‘He puts them in bridal dresses, with flowers.’
In the window’s reflection, he sees her cope with that. She holds firm. ‘What else?’
‘Sexual assault.’
‘And he holds on to them awhile.’
‘Yes,’ he acknowledges. ‘About five days, on average. We also believe he drugs them on capture, like Huxton.’
‘Is there anything new?’
‘They’re posed crime scenes.’
Emma gives him back her gaze. ‘Huxton never did that.’
‘No. He buried his victims in the area around the mountain house. There was no posing.’ He thinks how to phrase this. ‘Miss Lewis, I put you into protective custody because there’s enough resemblance to the Huxton case to warrant concern for your safety. But I’m taking you to Pittsburgh to see the body of the latest victim, the victim discovered today, because I’m hoping we can rule out a copycat. If we’re able to eliminate the copycat theory, I can send you back to OSU and dial down the security around your family.’
‘So if I see important differences, you’ll let me go home?’ Her eyes are hopeful.
‘Yes. I’m not prepared to do that, though, until I know for sure what’s going on.’ He checks her face. ‘Did you think I would try to hang on to you? To give advice on the case?’
Emma says nothing.
Carter is abashed. ‘If that strategy has been used on you before, my apologies. But that’s not how I operate. If I want your help, I’ll ask for it straight out, like I’m doing now. I prefer to deal with people who have some honest interest in the work.’
‘Not just a talent for it?’
He knows he has to tread carefully here. ‘Miss Lewis, I would appreciate your perspective. I would. But like I said, I’m not going to strong-arm you into cooperating. That usually turns out to be counterproductive for everybody.’
She looks as if she’s weighing this up. Deciding whether to trust it, checking underneath for the hidden trap. Damn, but he wishes this girl had been properly treated in the past. It would make his job a lot easier now.
He sinks back farther into his seat, removes his glasses to clean them. ‘Now I don’t know about you, but I’m planning to catch a nap sometime in the next three hours. I encourage you to rest. It may be a long night ahead.’
She scans him slowly then turns away, leans her head back. Her arms are still crossed. But it’s a start.
They get into Pittsburgh about 20:30 and are met by a car from the local field office. Emma carries her own bag and refuses to let the Pittsburgh agent, Novak, put it in the trunk. Carter waves him away.
Traffic on the I-376 is sparse at this time of night. Carter looks out the window, or checks the information in the folder on his lapby penlight, so Emma won’t feel like he’s studying her. The Fort Pitt Tunnel is lined with white tile, which makes him think of the place they’re about to visit. They come out over the river, and the lights of downtown are sparkling. Another ten minutes and they’re passing the tattoo parlors and pizza shops he’s familiar with on Smithfield Street.
Shored up with white mortar, the red stone walls of the Allegheny County Health Department glow under the streetlamps on Third Avenue. All the big windows and turrets of the old building look slightly out of plumb, most likely from the time it was moved in its entirety in 1929. Carter directs Novak to park on the street – they can go in via the back entrance. A light drizzle is dusting down from the dark sky.
Emma looks around a little wildly. ‘I thought we’d be going to the Pittsburgh field office.’
‘No, ma’am,’ Carter says. ‘The morgue is at county health.’
‘Oh, right.’ She says it like she should’ve remembered.
He wants to check she’s okay, but that might translate as being an offer to back out. He’s sure this is going to be difficult for her, but he’s hoping she won’t lose her nerve now they’ve come this far.
They’re met at the little red rear door by Dr Karl Friedrich, the venerable county medical examiner, who’s wearing a suit and a burgundy bow tie. ‘Hello, excuse me, you must be Special Agent Carter.’
‘I am.’ He shows his credentials. ‘We’ve spoken a number of times on the phone, Dr Friedrich. It’s good to meet you in person. Thanks for letting us visit at this hour.’
‘Of course, it’s no trouble. Come on in, get out of the rain.’
Friedrich ushers them into a tight hallway and past towers of cardboard file boxes, through a corridor with a freight elevator, and onward. He has not yet acknowledged Emma, although he casts curious glances.
‘Any early news on the victim identification?’
