Hank said. “Why don’t you see if you can find any of the staff who knew our victim? They might be able to shed some light on this.”
“Will do, Hank.”
“I need to talk to the Lincolns, then I have to find out if Mr. Ronson has any next of kin and make a visit.”
Hank moved back into the corridor, gazed down at the body, and sighed. Despite the pale white face, the victim still had a gentle look about him. Raymond Ronson didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would harm anyone, and it angered Hank.
The senseless death of innocent victims always did that to him. And it wasn’t just the death of the victim. It affected the person’s family, friends, and everyone around him.
More than one person’s life had been changed forever because of this violent act. Hank gazed at the body and doubled his vow to track down Adam Thorburn and bring him to justice any way he could.
Chapter 20
Wednesday, 9:52 a.m.
JAKE LEANED against the fender of the Firebird, his arms crossed, watching the proceedings outside the school. He glanced over toward Annie. She was chatting with one of the uniformed officers whose task it was to keep the crowd from getting too close.
Jake wanted to find out if Hank had discovered anything during his study of the crime scene that would help in the search for Adam Thorburn. He wasn’t all that particular about who eventually found the killer; whether it was them or Hank, he didn’t care, he only wanted Thorburn tracked down like the dog he was.
He looked toward the service door as Hank stepped out, removed his shoe coverings and rolled them up, stuffing them into a side pocket of his jacket. The cop glanced toward Jake, raised a finger, and spoke to the officer at the door.
An investigator carried a bag of something from the building and put it into the forensic van. They would be here awhile yet, making sure nothing was missed. No matter how small or how large, everything would be thoroughly scrutinized and documented.
The ambulance had pulled away some time ago, replaced by the coroner’s van. A pair of guys stood outside the van, talking and waiting. When the body was ready for them, they would bypass the hospital and carry their load directly to the city morgue.
The ME had driven away a few minutes earlier. Nancy’s task had only begun, her thorough study of the body yet to take place before the victim could be allowed to rest in peace.
Hank finished his chat and he came toward Jake, shaking his head. “It looks like the work of Thorburn,” the cop said.
Annie must’ve been keeping an eye out for Hank. She appeared beside Jake and spoke to the cop. “Was that a rose in his mouth?”
Hank nodded grimly. “It looks to be the same species as the last one. The lab’ll soon tell us if it is.”
“If so, then there’s no way this is a copycat,” Annie said.
Hank agreed. “A few people knew about the rose in the last victim’s mouth, but no one outside the department knows exactly what species it is.”
“What about the email?” Jake asked. “Any idea if it was the killer or the victim who sent it?”
“According to the time of death Nancy gave, it had to be the killer. Rod Jameson’s trying to track down the computer it was sent from.” Hank turned his head away, gazing toward the road. A disgusted look appeared on his face and he motioned with a jerk of his head. “It’s Lisa Krunk,” he said.
Jake followed Hank’s gaze. The Channel 7 Action News van drove across the parking lot and stopped outside the taped-off perimeter. The doors swung open. Lisa Krunk stepped from the passenger side, her cameraman, Don, from the other. Don slid open the side door, removed a camera, and dropped it onto his shoulder. He hurried to catch up with Lisa as she strode toward the tape and stopped.
“Detective Corning,” Lisa called, waving with one hand, a microphone held securely in the other.
Hank sighed. “I guess I should talk to Lisa.”
Elaine Levine
M.A. Stacie
Feminista Jones
Aminta Reily
Bilinda Ni Siodacain
Liz Primeau
Phil Rickman
1802-1870 Alexandre Dumas
Neal Stephenson
Joseph P. Lash