Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (books on motivation .txt) 📗

He rubbed his chin. “Probably a couple dozen a month, but I don’t know for sure.”

Kimberley nodded. “And where do these tourists stay?”

“Motels, Airbnbs, and campsites, I presume. Many probably pass through the same day. Not a whole hell of a lot to do in Custer County.”

Megan redirected her attention to the vacuous, engorged hole where the woman’s head used to be. She leaned in a little closer, examining the flesh. “This is a clean cut,” she said.

“And what’s that mean?” Sam folded his arms across his chest.

Megan looked up at him. “It means her head was severed from the body with one blow. So, the weapon was large and sharp.”

“Like an ax or a machete?” Kimberley thought out loud.

“Definite possibilities.” Megan nodded.

“Well, shit. Everyone around here has both of those.” Sam scratched the back of his head.

“Whoever did this has considerable strength to be able to hack straight through the spinal cord. There’re no tears on the skin.” Megan pointed to the edges of the neck. “If they had been stopped by the spinal cord or done multiple blows, I would expect to see tears around the neck lining, where the tendons and sinew would have pulled and given way. But this is very clean, almost like a guillotine.”

“So, we’re looking for a large man,” Sam said.

“Or a woman. Nothing in this crime scene says it was a man,” Megan said steadily.

“Sure, fine. Or a really strong woman,” he obliged.

“Anything else you can tell us?” Kimberley asked.

“Not without the head or performing an autopsy. At first look, this doesn’t appear to have been sexually motivated as her clothes aren’t in any disarray, but I’ll perform a rape kit to be sure.” Megan stood up and removed her gloves. “I’ll have my team do a clean sweep of the area as well and bag up all evidence.”

Before Sam or Chief Deputy King could ask any more questions, Deputy Burns standing a little way down the creek yelled out. “Found the head!”

Megan raised an eyebrow, while Sam and Kimberley exchanged a glance. Immediately, the three exited the crime scene and trudged through the long wheatgrass in the direction of the deputy.

Burns stood over the object, pointing down at the head lying in the tall grass as Megan, Sam, and Kimberley approached. He was visibly upset, the color drained from his face and his hand shaking as he pointed. Kimberley gently pushed his arm down to his side, giving him a slight nod. Megan slid her white gloves back on her hands. The face was covered by the woman’s long dark hair, matted to her skin by dried black blood. Tiny pieces of flesh were missing at the base of the neck, and there were a few small bite marks and scratches along the cheeks and chin. The flesh was turning pale gray as there was no blood to fill it or warm it to its regular color.

“Good work,” Sam said to Burns.

Burns stood frozen, staring at the head.

“I thought you said this was a clean cut. The bottom of the neck is all mangled with chunks missing.” Kimberley pointed out the battered skin.

“Looks like an animal got to it first. It must have dragged it away from the body and left it here when it realized there’s not much meat on a head,” Megan explained.

“You think?” Sam questioned.

“I know. Definitely a fox or a coyote.” Megan bent down and pointed at the skin. “See those bite marks. Too deep and elongated to be a human.”

Sam and Kimberley nodded, accepting her explanation.

Megan gently pushed the long dark hair aside, uncovering the woman’s face. The vibrancy of her green eyes had faded, leaving behind a muted dullness, two emeralds submerged just below the surface in a pool of milk. In the center of her forehead, there was a small hole and a trickle of blood seeped from it, running down the side of her face into her hairline.

“There’s your cause of death. Gunshot to the head,” Megan said.

“How do you know the gunshot happened before the head was removed?” Sam rocked back on his heels.

Megan pointed to the dried blood. “Because of the blood trickling out of the wound, and it’s darker than the blood at the main crime scene, meaning it’s older.”

Sam gave a slight nod.

As Kimberley’s eyes scanned the face of the dead woman, recognition jarred her to the core like a hefty punch to the gut. Kimberley gasped and a look of horror washed over her. “Oh my God. I know this woman.”

12

Kimberley took a few small steps back. Her heart began to race, and her eyes glistened, but she forced herself to take a couple of large breaths before she completely lost it. She had known this woman. She had spoken to this woman. She knew her story. She could have been there for her. Maybe she could have stopped what happened to her.

Sam closed the distance between himself and Kimberley. Megan continued examining the head, taking swabs of it with a Q-tip and bagging them.

“What do you mean you know her? How? You just moved here. Who is she?” he asked.

“Her name’s Hannah. I’ve met her a couple of times at my daughter’s daycare. The child in the stroller must be her fourteen-month-old daughter, Isobel,” Kimberley explained, laying out the facts as if this were just another case… but she knew it wasn’t, at least not to her. Could she have helped this woman? When she met her, had Hannah known she was in danger? Was that why she needed a friend? Kimberley’s thoughts raced, trying to piece together parts of a story for a woman who would never be able to tell it.

“Okay. Do you know anything else about her?” Sam scratched at his chin.

“She works part time at the local pharmacy. Isobel’s father isn’t in the picture, but I’m not sure who he is or where he is. I just know Hannah was a