Apparently, his people hadn’t found it.
“I’m surprised the murderer didn’t take the eyes as a trophy,” Autumn murmured.
Her gaze bounced around the bedroom. She entered the walk-in closet across the room. With a flick of the light, Autumn glanced at the shoes in perfect order, clothes color coordinated on hangers, and separated by type.
She turned the light off and walked back to the bookcase. A few photographs sat on the top shelf with stuffed animals. The next level housed books on fashion designers and history. The third had masquerade masks, pearls, and… a card to an exclusive sex club, Cat Tails.
Autumn picked up the card.
“That’s where I found the box. You’d think it was just another jewelry box the way it sat up there.”
She turned to Diego. His brown eyes narrowed on the card she held, then back up at her.
“It’s a good place to hide something like that.” She cleared her throat, “Is there anything else as far as physical evidence goes?”
“Nah, not that I’ve found.” Diego blinked and looked over his shoulder. “They keep looking at you.”
Autumn looked in the same direction. Newman and Hererra spoke in hushed tones. He glanced in their direction from time to time. She shrugged a shoulder. “I have no idea,” Autumn gritted her teeth.
They had to be talking about her. Hererra wouldn’t tell his boss she stole evidence. Perhaps Newman was bitching about having the profilers there in general.
Or he was asking Hererra about her flipping out.
Get back in the game. Remember what you’re doing here.
Autumn walked back to the body and looked down at Catarina Casale. There were no marks except around her neck, the bruising high on her cheekbones and around her eyebrows. Her wrists were tied with nylon rope, and… Autumn moved closer and touched Casale’s fisted hands.
Gently, Autumn loosened each finger and noticed creases in the center of her palms. “She tried to get away.”
“I noticed that earlier, too,” Diego said, coming up next to her. “The bindings tightened as she struggled, and probably cut off circulation to her wrists.”
“If she grew weak during the struggle, perhaps it helped when they took her eyes out,” Autumn said.
“We’ll have to find out after Reagan looks at the body.”
Autumn nodded to Diego, her eyes still on the victim.
“Ready for the final walk through?” Hererra asked as he hurried over to them.
The four of them started for the front door. Autumn peered into the main area of the condo, searching for anything that looked out of place. A set of fireplace tools sat next to an electric hearth.
Autumn’s lips turned down as she walked toward it. Why would someone need a fireplace in a condo in the middle of New York City? That wasn’t the only thing out of place. The poker and shovel were missing.
“He hit her from behind.” Autumn turned to Hererra and Newman. “She opened the door, the murderer walked behind her, saw the fireplace tools, came up behind her and whacked Catarina in the back of the head.”
“You’re assuming she let him in?” Newman studied Autumn and glanced at the other two men in the room.
“Or she met him somewhere,” she held the card in her hand and continued walking toward the bedroom.
“He didn’t kill her outright,” Diego murmured. “He laid Catarina on the bed, undressed her and tied her wrists, then waited for Sleeping Beauty to wake up.”
“And strangled Casale before ripping her eyes out,” Autumn finished.
“Why not make her suffer?” Hererra murmured from behind. “It makes little sense to strangle her, then take the eyes.”
“Perhaps he didn’t want the screams to interfere with his plans,” Autumn suggested.
“The screams are agonizing, Lovely, it’s different from killing an animal. You don’t have to hear them when they die. It’s easier to take the eyes after.”
