throat. “I already called a crime unit.”
“Have you identified her?”
“Not yet.”
“All right, I’m on my way.” He stowed his phone on his belt, then explained what happened to Sherese.
Sherese headed toward the exam rooms. “I’ll tell Cara.”
He glanced at the flier again while he waited on her to return. Cara and the pregnant teen and her boyfriend emerged from the back. Cara’s face was strained, although she tried to hide it from her patients.
“Everything looks good. You have a couple more weeks to go, but call me if anything changes.”
The teenage father looked up at Cara sheepishly. He was trying so hard to be a man. “Thank you, Dr. Winchester. You take good care of my little one.”
Cara patted his back. “You’re both going to do fine,” she assured them.
The couple left together, holding hands.
“Sherese said there was another victim,” Cara said as soon as the couple disappeared out the door.
Mason nodded. “I just talked to the sheriff.”
“How can you be sure it’s the same guy?”
“I can’t until we look at the scene and the victim, but he buried her in the same Comanche ritualistic manner.”
Anguish flickered across Cara’s face. “Let me get my bag and I’ll go with you.” She disappeared down the hall.
Mason wanted to shield her from the sight of another murder, but he couldn’t do that. She was a doctor, the assistant coroner for God’s sake, and too entrenched in the investigation for him to hold back.
Besides, if he’d even suggested it, she would have balked.
Sherese shifted, obviously anxious. “You have to find this creep, Detective Blackpaw.”
“I will,” Mason promised.
Although how many more women would die before he did?
* * *
C ARA AND M ASON lapsed into a strained silence, both lost in worry over the case as they drove toward the dump. By the time they arrived at the dump on the country road, her nerves were completely frayed.
The stench of the landfill clogged the air as they climbed out, and Cara paused to catch her breath while Mason retrieved his crime kit.
“You don’t have to do this,” Mason said, his voice gruff.
“Yes, I do.” Cara lifted her medical bag from the car, then forged ahead, leading the way to the sheriff’s car.
“Where are the kids who found her?” Mason asked.
“They were pretty shook up, so one boy’s father picked them up.”
“They were clean?” Mason asked.
The sheriff nodded. “Just a couple of adolescents,” McRae said. “Father assured me they’re good students. They had a science project, something about recycled products. That’s why they came here. I have their contact information in case we need to follow up.”
“They didn’t see anyone?” Mason asked.
“Naw. And we haven’t dug her up yet,” McRae said. “Waiting on you and the crime lab to do that.”
Cara spotted the mound of dirt and stones and paused.
For a moment, the cruelty of the killer’s disregard for the woman’s life, and her death, immobilized her. The poor
woman’s eyes and forehead had been exposed, but the rest of her body was still underground.
She glanced around the landfill, a chill engulfing her at the stench and piles of trash and garbage. “This is...even more vile,” she said. “Why bury her out here in this pit?”
“Because he saw her as trash,” Mason suggested.
Cara frowned. “It’s different from Nellie.”
“Yet the same,” Mason said. “It’s almost as if he didn’t care if this woman wasn’t found.”
“Like she didn’t deserve our attention,” Cara said, repulsed by the killer’s lack of respect for another human.
“Yet he still used the stones when he could have just left her here,” Mason added, as if that fact perplexed him.
“Which means this ritual is important to him,” Cara interjected. “It’s so ingrained in his belief system that even if he wanted to discard her body differently, he couldn’t do that or he’d defy his own
“Have you identified her?”
“Not yet.”
“All right, I’m on my way.” He stowed his phone on his belt, then explained what happened to Sherese.
Sherese headed toward the exam rooms. “I’ll tell Cara.”
He glanced at the flier again while he waited on her to return. Cara and the pregnant teen and her boyfriend emerged from the back. Cara’s face was strained, although she tried to hide it from her patients.
“Everything looks good. You have a couple more weeks to go, but call me if anything changes.”
The teenage father looked up at Cara sheepishly. He was trying so hard to be a man. “Thank you, Dr. Winchester. You take good care of my little one.”
Cara patted his back. “You’re both going to do fine,” she assured them.
The couple left together, holding hands.
“Sherese said there was another victim,” Cara said as soon as the couple disappeared out the door.
Mason nodded. “I just talked to the sheriff.”
“How can you be sure it’s the same guy?”
“I can’t until we look at the scene and the victim, but he buried her in the same Comanche ritualistic manner.”
Anguish flickered across Cara’s face. “Let me get my bag and I’ll go with you.” She disappeared down the hall.
Mason wanted to shield her from the sight of another murder, but he couldn’t do that. She was a doctor, the assistant coroner for God’s sake, and too entrenched in the investigation for him to hold back.
Besides, if he’d even suggested it, she would have balked.
Sherese shifted, obviously anxious. “You have to find this creep, Detective Blackpaw.”
“I will,” Mason promised.
Although how many more women would die before he did?
* * *
C ARA AND M ASON lapsed into a strained silence, both lost in worry over the case as they drove toward the dump. By the time they arrived at the dump on the country road, her nerves were completely frayed.
The stench of the landfill clogged the air as they climbed out, and Cara paused to catch her breath while Mason retrieved his crime kit.
“You don’t have to do this,” Mason said, his voice gruff.
“Yes, I do.” Cara lifted her medical bag from the car, then forged ahead, leading the way to the sheriff’s car.
“Where are the kids who found her?” Mason asked.
“They were pretty shook up, so one boy’s father picked them up.”
“They were clean?” Mason asked.
The sheriff nodded. “Just a couple of adolescents,” McRae said. “Father assured me they’re good students. They had a science project, something about recycled products. That’s why they came here. I have their contact information in case we need to follow up.”
“They didn’t see anyone?” Mason asked.
“Naw. And we haven’t dug her up yet,” McRae said. “Waiting on you and the crime lab to do that.”
Cara spotted the mound of dirt and stones and paused.
For a moment, the cruelty of the killer’s disregard for the woman’s life, and her death, immobilized her. The poor
woman’s eyes and forehead had been exposed, but the rest of her body was still underground.
She glanced around the landfill, a chill engulfing her at the stench and piles of trash and garbage. “This is...even more vile,” she said. “Why bury her out here in this pit?”
“Because he saw her as trash,” Mason suggested.
Cara frowned. “It’s different from Nellie.”
“Yet the same,” Mason said. “It’s almost as if he didn’t care if this woman wasn’t found.”
“Like she didn’t deserve our attention,” Cara said, repulsed by the killer’s lack of respect for another human.
“Yet he still used the stones when he could have just left her here,” Mason added, as if that fact perplexed him.
“Which means this ritual is important to him,” Cara interjected. “It’s so ingrained in his belief system that even if he wanted to discard her body differently, he couldn’t do that or he’d defy his own
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