EVIDENCE OF BETRAYAL
Chapter 1
Jean Mays labored to breathe, her thigh muscles burning. Soon the Florida humidity would settle on her body like a wet blanket. But for now, it was cool. She knew the trail’s end wasn’t far and she could get her caffeine fix at the little coffee shop she stopped at every day on her way home. Her mouth salivated anticipating the reward of her favorite blend.
Her run had been uneventful and peaceful. She enjoyed the euphoria of the “runner’s high.” It helped her make it through the day. This particular path was just the way she liked it—not well-groomed. Very few people jogged here. She’d had her fill of intrusions in every aspect of her life in D.C. Now she was alone and could relax.
A rustle in the woods caused her to turn to see what kind of animal it was. In the past, she had seen squirrels, a deer, the occasional raccoon, even a skunk which she managed to avoid. Today, no animal showed itself. Catching herself as she tripped over some roots, she ran on.
But something wasn’t right. There was that prickling on her skin, the goosebumps that unnerved her. A whisper of noise. Jean turned her head. The bushes rustled slightly. It was a windless day which made her suspicious. Was someone watching her? Or was her imagination playing tricks on her again?
Either way, she decided it was safer not to investigate and ran faster even though she was tired. The 11 a.m. meeting at the coffee shop with a man she didn’t want to deal with weighed heavy on her mind. She didn’t want to be late. He was insistent she meet him there, not at her condo, and he was not a man to cross. She wished she knew why he wanted to meet. Why was he even in Black Pointe? Was he upset because she asked for a little money in exchange for not spilling the extent of their involvement in ruining Grace Winslow’s reputation in D.C.? Well, she’d know soon enough.
Thump. Thump. The rhythm of her footsteps lulled her into calmness.
A slight movement from the bushes on her left startled her. She almost tripped over a branch on the path. As she righted herself, a dark form stepped out.
“You!”
***
Chapter 2
Detectives Luke McBride and his partner Ben Green flashed their badges at the beat cop guarding the entrance to Sexton Park. The tree-lined path was shaded and cool, innocent-looking except for the deceased lying on her side.
The bagel he consumed for breakfast threatened to make an impromptu appearance. Even though he had seen his share of killings for the past eight years, the loss of life still sickened Luke, especially when it involved women or children. They were supposed to be protected and cherished.
The police didn’t have any information on the woman yet. No keys. No ID. No cell phone. Nevertheless, she had been someone’s someone—a sister, mother, girlfriend, aunt, or daughter.
Right now, she was just another anonymous body heaped on the ground, surrounded by yellow tape, flashing red and blue lights, cops, detectives, curious onlookers and the ubiquitous nosy body trying to sneak under the tape, to get a picture or story to titillate the tabloids.
Shit. Luke shook his head. “Why couldn’t it be a drug dealer or a gangbanger lying there? Why an innocent?”
“It’s the job, man. Gotta tell you, it’s getting to me too,” muttered Ben.
The woman’s body lay on her side along the dirt trail about twenty feet from the entrance.
Her black shorts had been pulled down around her ankles, followed by pale pink panties. The juxtaposition of the innocent pink playing against the background of black wasn’t lost on Luke. Had she been raped before her death? Luke hoped not.
The woman was pretty. But now, she lay there broken and bruised, pretty didn’t matter anymore.
Her sleeveless purple top was pulled up around her neck. The perp didn’t bother to unsnap her bra, just jerked it up exposing her breasts. A long blond braid full of leaves and debris snaked out from the back of her head, her white sneakers were still on her feet, and her hands were clasped just under her chin as if she were praying. Posed for sure. But why?
It was way past dawn. The Florida sun was rising like a giant hot yellow ball on the horizon, and his shirt was starting to cling to his body. Luke hoped to get the body moved before the day got any hotter and decomposition became more of a problem; however, the medical examiner was caught in traffic and running late.
The cop on the scene pointed out a tall, thin man standing at the edge of the path who found the body.
As Ben handed Luke a pair of blue disposable gloves and pulled on a pair himself, he muttered, “I’m so tired of this shit. Why can’t a woman be able to take a run without being killed.”
Luke looked over at Ben, his partner for the past three years, shook his head. “Tell me about it.”
Standing near the bushes behind the body, Luke didn’t observe anything out of the ordinary. Nothing screaming, “I’m evidence, pick me up” or broken branches. Nothing showing she died at this location.
Searching for evidence in the bushes, under rocks, in the grass, anywhere that might lead them to her killer didn’t yield much. The park was a favorite spot for the homeless because it wasn’t used often, and the smell of urine made him gag. They picked up a few empty soda and beer cans; a used condom; an inhaler, some needles, fast-food wrappers and paper. Lots of paper—newspapers, paper napkins—all sorts of paper. God, people were pigs. Bagging and tagging what they found, they set the bags on the ground and walked over to the body.
“Damn. She’s the second jogger this month to be killed and exposed like this.” Ben rubbed his face and looked quizzically at the body. “Although her hands are posed differently. I wonder if we have a serial killer on the loose?”
Luke stepped closer to the body. “Hope not. We’ll find out soon enough.”
He and Ben searched the general area but didn’t notice any drag marks on the sidewalk or broken branches in the bushes surrounding her body. Luke was perplexed. Bodies didn’t just fall from the sky.
“I wonder where she was killed?”
“Could be here in the park. This doesn’t make sense. Why place the body here? Does it have some significance or was it just convenient?” asked Ben.
They needed to expand their search so they would walk the park later. Shit, this was going to be another long day. Par for the course though.
Did the murderer move the body here? If so, why?
From his vantage point, Luke observed the woman’s bloody knuckles and broken fingernails. Good. She put up a struggle. Not that it helped her, but the lab might get the DNA of the murderer. He didn’t see any blood on the ground, but that could change when the medical examiner arrived and turned her body over.
A car door slammed shut, and a mumble of voices caused Luke to turn. The crime scene investigators had arrived and were unpacking their equipment. Soon they would take pictures of the body, bag her hands for DNA, diagram the scene and collect more evidence. Following them was the medical examiner.
Luke motioned to Ben. “Why don’t you go talk to Wilson, who called it in. I’ll talk to the jogger who found her and get his statement. By then the ME should be finished.”
Ben nodded and headed over to the officer guarding the entrance.
Luke went over to the twenty-something guy who found the body. He was pacing at the far edge of the sidewalk looking around nervously. He looked a little pale. A lot pale, actually. Pale and greenish. Praying the guy wouldn’t lose his cookies on him, Luke took a step back and pulled out his notebook.
The jogger was wiping his hands on his shirt. He stopped when Luke walked over.
“Look, man,” he started before Luke even opened his mouth. “I didn’t see or hear anyone near the body. I almost didn’t see her, and I certainly didn’t touch her.”
He glanced around the park, ignoring the body and sighed. “I jog in this park every morning, and there has never been any trouble.” He shrugged. “I wish I could help, but I don’t know anything more.”
“OK then,” Luke looked at his notes. “Jim?”
The man nodded.
“You didn’t touch the body or move anything, did you?”
“No. I told you already I didn’t.”
“What time did you notice her lying there?”
“Somewhere around 7 a.m.”
“Where were you when you first saw her lying there?” Shit, this case wasn’t going to be solved quickly. This guy couldn’t add any information.
The man pointed farther down the path. “I was rounding the corner, looking at the exit when I saw what looked like a heap of clothes on the path. I didn’t realize it was a person until I got closer. I called 9-1-1 as soon as I realized she wasn’t moving. I definitely didn’t go in for a close-up.”
Luke rubbed the back of his neck. They hadn’t solved the last jogger’s murder, and now they had another one on their plate. Could Ben be right? Was it possible this was the same killer?
“Did you see anyone else on the path?”
The man thought for a moment. “Hmmm. No. I’m usually one of a few joggers who run here. It’s not a popular park. Plus, this isn’t the path I normally use. I wanted to spice up my run a little.” He grimaced, “I guess I got more than I bargained for.”
He glanced at his watch. “Shit, I’m gonna be late for work. Can I go now?”
Disappointed the jogger couldn’t give him more information, Luke handed him a pen and paper and took out his card. “Give me your contact information, and you’re free to go. Here’s my card in case you remember anything.”
Luke pocketed the jogger’s information and watched as he headed off down the opposite path. Luke turned to see Ben waving him over.
“The ME’s done,” Ben said.
John Stokes, the ME, motioned Luke and Ben over. John was a tall man who stood out in a crowd, and still trim with a mop of gray hair. He always had a ready smile on his face outside of work. Today his face was grim. They had worked on several cases together, and Luke respected John immensely.
“Luke. Ben.” He nodded at them.
“So, what’d you find?” Luke asked.
“Well.” John cleared his throat. “It looks the marks on her throat are consistent with strangling, and her hands staged similarly to that last murdered jogger. I won’t know if she was raped until I get her on the table. Hopefully, I’ll be able to retrieve some DNA from under her nails and some blood samples.”
Pulling off his gloves and throwing them in a bag, John continued, “You boys have your work cut out for you. I don’t think her body has been here very long. Rigor hasn’t set in. I’m guessing she died within the last couple of hours.”
Scowling, John added, “I estimate she’s in her late twenties, early thirties and most likely put up a good fight judging from her knuckles.”
“Can you tell us anything else?” Luke asked.
“I’ll be able to tell more when she’s on the table.”
John packed up his bag and filled in the body identification sheet to attach it to the body. His technicians gently lifted the woman and placed her in a vinyl body bag.
“I hate this,” said John and shook his head. “Damn. Let me know if someone calls in with an identification.”
Luke nodded. He and Ben took one last look around before they expanded their search to see if they missed anything. The park was notorious for not having cameras, but they would check near the coffee shop. Maybe they’d get lucky and the camera would be pointing in the right direction.
Luke noticed a police officer interviewing the bystanders. Yep, been there, done that. Interviewing people who got facts wrong or the liars who made up information drove him crazy. Not finding clues drove him crazy. In fact, this job was beginning to drive him crazy=