Consumed by E. H. Reinhard

women found deceased.”
    “Yeah, I put together a couple of files that contain the photos. Maybe you guys can get some copies made and distribute them around the station as needed?”
    “We’ll do what we can,” Munro said.
    I pulled my laptop bag onto my lap and took out everything we had. After I passed out the individual files of photos, the two detectives and the captain opened the files.
    “We’re pretty sure these women are from Nashville here,” Beth said. “And if what your other detective said about the tattoos is true, it confirms it.”
    Detective Hardy tapped at a photo. “I recognize this one. Candy, she goes by. Always wears that platinum wig.”
    “She had a tattoo that said Candy,” Beth said. “Do we know if that’s a real name or what her last name is?”
    “Couldn’t tell you on that. I’ve never picked her up for soliciting personally, but I’ve seen her on the streets around Murfreesboro Pike. I’ve talked to her a handful of times. It’s about fifteen minutes from here.”
    I wrote the name down. “Is that a street or an area of town or…?”
    “State highway for the most part, a couple lanes in each direction—runs from Nashville down to Murfreesboro. Changes name a bunch of times along the way. The area with the most traffic in the sex-for-hire trade is around Plus Park Boulevard and Wilhagan Road. That’s where we run our stings when we do them,” Detective Hardy said.
    I jotted the street names down.
    “Recognize any of the others?” Tom asked.
    Detective Pierce was leaning back, flipping through the photos until he stopped with one in particular in his hand. “Give me one second. This dark-haired girl looks like someone that was in a flophouse we raided last month. Let me get my file from the case.” He stood from his chair and left the office.
    The captain asked a few questions on the investigation while we waited for Detective Pierce to return. I pulled out the files we had on Rhonda Oakley, Brittany Colwell, and our first unidentified woman. I passed them over to the captain so he could have a look. As he finished with each one, he slid it to Detective Hardy.
    “I know this one,” Hardy said.
    “Brittany or Rhonda?” Beth asked.
    “No. This one.” Hardy held up the photo of the first unidentified woman. “Megan Poe. She’s been arrested countless times for solicitation. She works downtown here a lot. I see her on my way pretty much every morning. She’s always walking down on Second Street. I can’t say I’ve seen her in the last few days, now that I think about it. When was she found deceased?”
    “Wednesday of this past week if I’m not mistaken,” I said.
    “Shit. She was actually a nice person. I mean, obviously, yes, she was a criminal, soliciting men for sex, but still. She sure as hell didn’t deserve this. I’d stop every now and then to chat her up. She’d give me the same song and dance every time I’d stop her—literally. She’d sing me a country tune, twirl around, laugh, smile, wave, and continue on her way.”
    Giving the deceased woman a bubbly personality only seemed to worsen what had been done to her.
    The door of the conference room opened, and Detective Pierce reentered with a file in his hand. “Yeah, it’s her, I think. Rachael Mendez.” He opened his file and placed a mug shot next to the photo Dave had snapped of the woman’s face from the first dump site we’d viewed that morning.
    I slid both photos to my side of the table so Tom, Beth, and I could view them side by side.
    “That’s her,” Beth said. “Same scar in her right eyebrow. I noticed it at the dump site.”
    “Megan Poe is the name you said for this one?” I tapped on the photo.
    “Without a doubt,” Detective Hardy said.
    I wrote the woman’s name down on the back of the photo. “And this one is Rachael Mendez?” I tapped on the other photo.
    “Pretty sure,” Pierce said.
    “I’d say ninety-five percent, just going visually,” Beth