Tainted Mind (13 page)

“Could be she's just missing,” Nick pointed out.

“Could be.”

“But you think it's related to Jessica?”

“Yes, I do.”

“If they are related, then Jessica's father isn't involved, since he's been in Leavenworth and will stay there.”

“I could be wrong,” Vivi offered.

“As much as it pains me to admit it, you're rarely wrong, Viv.”

“True, at least when it comes to murder.” She didn't doubt he'd pick up on her subtle jibe that she'd been wrong in her judgment of him.

“You know I regret that, don't you?” Nick said.

She sighed. She hadn't called him to rehash things and regretted that she'd let the insinuation slide from her mouth. It just wasn't relevant anymore.

“Water under the bridge, Nick.”

“Then why don't I come up there and help you?”

“Because we don't need your help. And it's not your jurisdiction. She's not army, it's probably not related to her father, there's no reason for you to come up here.”

“Unless you're wrong.”

“If I'm wrong, I'll call.”

He let out a frustrated breath. “You won't call.”

“Nick, I may have been furious with you, but I know what she meant to you. I know you wanted her in protective custody and I know she declined. I also know that you probably blame yourself.”

“It wasn't my bloody fault she ran off,” he responded.

“Of course it wasn't, but that doesn't mean we don't blame ourselves for other people's mistakes. Come on, Nick. Think of who you're talking to here. We do it all the time. The one that got away, the one we couldn't catch in time. I know what that feels like, Nick. And despite the fact that you used me, I wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone. Not even you. If I think this case is related, I'll call.”

Nick was silent and, after a long moment, Vivi began to think he might have actually hung up on her. But then he spoke.

“I would appreciate that,” he said, very formally, making her nervous.

“Nick,” she warned.

“It's too late for us, isn't it, Viv?”

“A long time ago, Nick.”

“I should have tried harder.”

“There's a lesson for next time then.”

He paused again. “Call me.”

“If it looks related, I will,” she gave one last promise before hanging up. She stared at the phone in her hand for a moment and was almost certain that wasn't the last she would hear from Nick.

Shaking her head, shaking off the conversation, she booted up her computer and began picking at her lunch. Combing through databases wasn't as simple as it sounded on television. There were so many variables that brought up different results that Vivi often felt it was a bit like playing the slots. Only there wasn't one big payout, but lots of little ones, and even those needed to be sorted through to find the real gems.

Several hours later, she stretched and took a break consisting of taking her plate back down to Rob then coming back up to jump in the shower. Within thirty minutes she was back on her computer, weeding through more missing persons reports than she cared to acknowledge.

Lost in thought, she jumped when she heard a knock on her door. She glanced at the clock and shot up. It was ten after seven.

“Sorry about that,” she said, opening the door. Ian stepped through and glanced around.

“Everything okay?”

“Everything is fine, I just got hung up on the research. Give me five minutes and I'll be ready.”

*   *   *

Ian nodded in agreement and watched Vivienne disappear into the bathroom. She'd showered and changed and her hair was still damp. And for the first time since he'd met her, it wasn't pulled back but rather fell, in long locks, down her back. It was the kind of hair a man could get tangled in. For a moment he considered suggesting they skip dinner. But as appealing as that sounded, it was a bit presumptuous, even for his arrogant Ranger-self. He was pretty sure the attraction was mutual, but he couldn't get a read on how far Vivienne was interested in taking it, if anywhere at all.

He glanced down at the table in the room, littered with files and printouts. They were case related, judging by the few sheets he saw, so he picked one up. It was a report of a woman missing from DC. Same basic stats as both Jessica and Rebecca and the picture accompanying the report looked similar enough to Jessica that, if the killer did prefer a certain look, she would definitely fall into that category. He frowned and picked up a second sheet of paper.

This one was different. This one was a printout of a report regarding the murder of yet another woman. There was no photo, but the report included height, approximate weight, hair and eye color, and means of death. Again, the stats fit Jessica, but more alarming, so did the method of death. Manual strangulation, signs of a shackle or manacle-like restraint, and likely sexual assault.

“How did you find these?” he asked, spinning around when the bathroom door opened.

“FBI databases. I know you put in the request a few days ago to run them, but I have direct access, and since I'm now officially on the case, I figured I would handle the database information.”

“It looks like you might have found more than you bargained for,” he said, motioning to the pages scattered across the desk. There had to be a hundred of them. The thought made him sick.

She came to his side, took the two pages he held, and placed them back with the others. “Not all of these will be related to our case. In fact most of them won't be related. But the thing is, I've been doing this long enough that I like to keep the parameters open and
explore probably more than I need to. I figure I would rather put in the extra time and cast a wider net in the hopes I don't miss something than stick to the bare facts.”

“And you do this yourself?” Ian was both stunned and humbled by the thought. When Vivienne DeMarco stepped into a case, she stepped in 110 percent.

“Like I said, I like to cast a wide net. The people who run the database queries are good, but they don't always have the time to explore the unexpected, or even if they do, they generally don't have the inside information I have. Don't get me wrong, they do a good job of maintaining the databases, an excellent job. But the databases—and the information we get out of them—are only as good as what is put in, and sometimes people don't put everything in. I've been around long enough to know when it's worth looking at a case that might, at first glance, not look like a good fit.”

“So what now?”

“I'll go down and eat dinner with you, tell you what I've found so far. Which isn't much,” she warned. “You'll tell me about anything that might have come up with you this afternoon. Then when you leave, I'll come back up here and start combing through these reports,” she said with a gesture to the table and its contents. “By morning, hopefully, I'll have a short list of cases we should take a closer look at.”

“Hopefully, a very short list,” he muttered.

She gave a last look at the scattered reports. “Amen to that.”

*   *   *

When Vivi's cell rang at seven in the morning, she ignored it and burrowed deeper into the blankets. She knew the dogs were on their way later that day, the evidence was at the lab, and the results of her own digging were scattered around the room. She'd spent hours after dinner going through the various reports and had narrowed the list down to twelve women—three bodies and nine missing persons—she wanted to look into further. And she was exhausted. But the ringing wouldn't stop. So, with a groan, she slapped her hand over the device and answered.

“Yes?” she sounded grumpy, but four hours of sleep did that to her.

“We have a body.”

Nothing quite woke her up like that phrase. She bolted upright and looked at the clock. “The dogs aren't supposed to be there until this afternoon.”

“Didn't need them,” came Ian's reply. “I called Owen Mayfield yesterday to tell him about the well you stepped into. Offered to pay for a new cover. He took a hike up there this morning.”

“And found her inside,” Vivi finished his sentence, her stomach turning. They were so close and hadn't sensed a thing.

“Any plans for the day?”

“Oh, you know, wash my hair, do my laundry,” she replied. “Actually, I do need to do laundry, but that can wait until tonight. I'll be out in twenty minutes.”

“Dump your stuff in my washer. My house is on the way, it won't add five minutes to your trip. We're waiting for the assistance team from the firehouse, so we're not doing anything yet anyway.”

Vivi considered the offer for all of two seconds before agreeing. Assuming they got the body out this morning, she could swing back by Ian's afterward, dump the clothes into the dryer, then head up to the lab to do the autopsy and talk with Sam about the evidence collected yesterday. Within five minutes she was out the door and headed downstairs. Rob stopped her on the way with a cup of coffee and a bag of goodies ready to go. She smiled her thanks, knowing Ian had probably called him to ask the favor.

When she pulled up to the house Rebecca had stayed in, Vivi was better equipped for the walk up the hill than she'd been the first time, and despite the ache in her ankle, she made decent time. The scene was quiet when she arrived, even though close to ten people were present. Ian made his way toward her.

“Doing okay?” he asked with a nod to her ankle.

“I'll be fine,” she answered. She liked that he'd asked but hadn't made a big deal out of it. “Tell me what's going on.”

“Carly and Marcus are here. This is Carly's first murder but she's doing well. Marcus was an MP in the Army so he's seen a bit more, but this is different. Still, they are both doing great. Over there,” he motioned with his head, “is the fire assist team. I called them in because
I think we're going to need help getting her out, and they have more equipment than we do.”

“And him?” Vivi asked with a nod toward a man standing with Wyatt.

“Owen Mayfield. He found the body.”

She studied him for a moment. He was an older gentleman, wearing a red flannel jacket, jeans, and workman's boots. But he stood straight and appeared calm as he talked to Wyatt. “He seems to be holding up fine,” Vivi commented.

“He's been better, but like me and a lot of guys around here, he did a stint in the military, so this isn't his first dead body.”

“But the first on his property, I'd imagine.” Ian inclined his head in assent. She studied the surroundings again for a moment, then in silent agreement, they made their way to the side of the well. Ian handed her a powerful flashlight; even in the daylight hours the area was darkened by the shadows of the surrounding trees. Ian stood beside her as she sank to her haunches; everyone else stayed a respectful distance away.

Over the years, the well had filled in, leaving it only about twenty feet deep. At the bottom lay the body of what Vivi presumed was Rebecca Cole. There wasn't enough flesh left to make a visual ID, and DNA would come later, but for all intents and purposes, Vivi was certain it was their missing woman. The body was in an upright fetal position with one leg splayed to the side, the other tucked up against her chest. Her arms lay at her sides and the back of her head rested against the wall of the well. She looked as if she'd simply been tossed down, like trash.

“Has anyone been down there?” she asked. Ian shook his head and Vivi shined her light on Rebecca's wrists and then ankles.

“It's hard to tell from here what kind of damage she sustained and what might have occurred before her death versus after or when she was dumped. I'm stating the obvious, but we need to get her out.”

“Yeah, we're on it.” In his usual way, Ian already had a plan. After sliding the body onto a makeshift platform, they were going to pull a large plastic cover over it for protection. The fire assist team had a lift, and once everything was positioned, they would pull the platform up. Because of the size of the well, Vivi knew it would either
have to be her or Carly who went down to prepare everything. And she wasn't surprised at all when Carly volunteered. The woman was quiet, but from what Vivi could tell, she was capable and conscientious.

Using a rope, Carly was lowered into the well where she managed to get the platform under the body and the protective cover in place. After a few fits and starts, Ian and Marcus carefully guided the body over the lip of the well and onto the ground.

“She make it?” Carly called from her position in the well. Marcus gave her the thumbs up. “If you hand down some collection bags and a good light, I'll see what I can find down here,” she offered.

“Good thinking, Carly,” Ian said, directing Wyatt to assist her.

“If we have a ladder that will fit down there, we may want to use it now, so Carly can examine the walls of the well on her way up,” Vivi suggested. There was no way they could have fit one in the well with the victim and Carly, but now that the body was gone, they were able to slide a long, metal ladder down.

Joining Ian and Marcus, Vivi slid on a pair of booties and gloves. After asking for a pair of scissors, she gently cut the protective plastic away, revealing the mostly decomposed body of the woman they were assuming was Rebecca Cole. Vivi did an initial examination of her in the fetal position, and then, with Ian's assistance, they straightened her out.

“There's not a lot left,” Marcus commented, keeping an appropriate distance.

“Have you had a wet spring?” Vivi asked. Ian and Marcus both responded in the positive. “The decomp is affected by the moisture that likely built up in the well. Have Carly collect some soil samples, and we'll see if anything got washed off while she was down there. You can see here and here,” she said, pointing to the wrists and ankles, “are marks similar to those we found on Jessica Akers.”

“So she was restrained too,” Ian commented.

“And here,” Vivi continued, leaning way over to take a closer look at the neck area. “It's hard to see much right now, but there are signs of strangulation too.” She sat back and regarded the body again before standing and giving Ian an apologetic look.

“I'm sorry this is happening here,” she said.

He held her gaze for a moment and then glanced back at the body. “I'm sorry it's happening at all.”