Scraps & Chum (13 page)

“
They say anything off the record?
”

Ted shook his head no.
“
Just what I told you. The trees, the squeaks, the leftovers as you see them.
”

“
They recognize her?
”

“
Can anybody recognize that?
”

“
Okay, I
’
ll go talk to them. I can
’
t look at this thing anymore.
”

Ted threw up a palm.
“
Hang on.
”

“
What?
”

“
Check this out first.
”
Ted motioned to a patch of dirt at the edge of the clearing. A set of tracks wound out of the foliage and lead to the pit.
“
Kids said they didn
’
t do it.
”

George had seen this type of track before. Most homicide detectives had at one point in their career.
“
Looks like a drag pattern.  Couple of footprints here. Guy must have whacked her somewhere else, dragged the body out here.
”

“
Knocked her out anyway. There
’
s no bullet hole on her I can see. And I
’
m not getting down in that pit to look
further
.
”

“
So we know he came from that direction,
”
George said, pointing into the belly of the woods.
“
That near the lye factory?
”

“
Near the river anyway. But that
’
s not what I
’
m looking at. See there
’
s this drag mark here, and then there
’
s this skinnier one that runs between the foot prints. Could be another
—
”

“
Some fucking prints. What
’
re those marks there?
”

“
I
’
m thinking telephone pole guy.
’
s
’
why I don
’
t think he
’
s a factory worker. You know the guys got those spikes on their boots?
”

“
Yeah. Climb the poles with
’
em. Gotcha. So a cable or telephone guy. Maybe parked at the factory after closing. Kept the
boot
climbers on for traction. Let
’
s check and see if any service was done in the area recently.
”

“
I already put the word out on that, too. But this thin drag line here, this is what concerns me. See how it skids about? Separate from the other drag mark.
”

“
Like something was moving,
”
George replied, suddenly more stressed,
“
maybe trying to get free. You think it
’
s another body?
”

“
I hope not. If we
’
re looking for a second victim…
”

George stood up and looked around the woods. They seemed to stretch on forever.
“
And if this guy has more of these pits…
”

The young cop leaned over the police tape and yelled,
“
Hey
,
detectives? Animal Control is here!
”

***

Sleep was not something Ted Newcomb got during these kinds of cases. It was one thing to find a DOA with a gunshot or stab wound, but torture victims burned afterimages in his mind that took years to scrub away. And so he stirred all night and tried to rationalize it all. Which was a futile exercise in the end. The world was sick, and there was no solution. Even if he did catch this guy, legal council would just convince the jury he was abused as a kid and deserved to spend his days in a padded room with a soft cot and three square meals. It was bullshit.

The M
.
E
.
’
s report was on his desk the next morning. No other leads had come in since the body
’
s discovery yesterday afternoon. The employee list for the factory had been secured and officers had questioned everyone on it throughout the night. Turned out they were all married, and all had alibis. All of them. They were t
old not to leave town anyway.  But Ted knew, people lie. He
would follow up on them all tomorrow.

He filed it in his briefcase, started going through his other notes. There were so many that he
still
needed to weed through. He
’
d gotten home late and had talked to so many people yesterday his head was still dizzy. Maybe the telephone/cable worker angle would pan out.  He made another call to the cable companies, asked for a list of employees. The cable company said it was contacting their lawyer and would get back to him asap.
Swore their employees were screened and bonded.

It was ten before George showed up, a cup of coffee in his hands. He didn
’
t look like he
’
d slept any better. Said something about needing to spend the morning with his little girl after yesterday
’
s find. Wasn
’
t the best work acumen to have, but Ted understood. You see enough dead bodies you begin to wonder when you
’
re number
’
s coming up. George was eligible for
early
retirement and had been talking about moving his family someplace warmer, buying a boat, finding Mandy a good school and a safe place to grow up. If such a place existed anymore.

Ted maneuvered through the desks and plopped down in a chair next to George. He took out his notes and started leafing through them.
“
I got the report from the M
.
E.
Our
Jane Doe is Shelly Dumas, lived two streets over from the park. Single, no kids, traveled a lot for work so no one in the neighborhood would really know if she was missing or not. She did real estate, worked for herself.  So no boss or friends calling to find out why she wasn
’
t in work. Blunt force trauma to the head. But the rats definitely killed her.
At least, that’s the definitive cause of death. No way to look for hemorrhaging.
Chewed her up, sent her into shock, she bled out and died. Ate half her flesh and most of her internal organs. Has more germs in her now than they have text books for. CDC is flying someone in to take a closer look, just to be safe. M
.
E
.
puts her decomp at about two days.
”

George sipped coffee from his I LOVE DADDY mug.
“
Jesus. And forensics?
”

“
Place was clean of trace save for about a gazillion rat hairs. They took a mold of the prints, second
ed
the idea the guy has boots with spikes on them. Someone speculated the skinnier drag marks could be a small body, maybe a kid, judging by the way it slides.
‘
Could be
’
is the thing. Could also be a suitcase or his laundry for all we know. Neighborhood kids are all accounted for anyway.
”

“
Well thank God for that.
”

“
No forced entry at Dumas
’
home. Lots of prints on her property, but she
’
s single so who knows how many guys she
’
s had over. We
’
re running them all through the system.
So far nothing.
Guy who fills a pit with rats, though? No way he left his prints.
”

“
No shit.
”

Ted flipped through more of his notes.
“
Otherwise, nothing out of place, no signs of struggle.
”

“
Guy cased her house, waited for her to come out?
”

“
Neighbors have seen her jogging in the past. Makes sense. She goes out for a jog, the guy grabs her, hits her over the head, drags her into the trees
—
”

“
Feeds her to the rats. The sick fuck. Rape?
”
George asked.

“
Nope.
”

“
Anything on the telephone pole lead?
”

“
Nope.
”

“
Missing persons reports from surrounding areas?
”

“
Nope.
”

“
They find anything else in the woods? Another pit?
”

“
Nope.
”

“
Say nope again.
”

“
Nope.
”

***

A press conference was scheduled for two o
’
clock in one of the meeting rooms at the station. A select group of media was invited to come hear what information was being released to the public. Mostly this would consist of a profile and a warning for people in the neighborhood.

The rat angle had already made it out; the kids had seen to that.

Ted was meeting with someone from animal control to get specifics about the rats, so George headed to the conference where the chief was already answering questions for the news cameras. He stood to the side and listened, played with his tie out of anxious habit.