“What’s going on?”one of the bystanders asked.“Is that blood?”
“Everyone stay back,” Faith said authoritatively.She looked at the new dog and asked, “What is it, girl?What happened?”
The dog turned around and trotted into the trees.Faith and Turk followed, more cries and gasps from the freshly alarmed crowd echoing after them.
The dog moved deep into the copse, and the path behind was quickly obscured by the thick growth of trees.She came to a stop at the base of one of the trees and looked pleadingly at Faith.
Turk barked in alarm and ran to her side.Faith arrived a moment later and verbalized her earlier oath.“Oh God.”
Lying at the base of the tree was a woman about the same age as the one Faith had helped.Her eyes were open, but they stared sightlessly up at the branches above.A small red dot sat directly in between those eyes.Below her head, blood had turned the dirt into mud, interrupted by a small indentation near her face where the dog had nuzzled her owner, trying in vain to wake her up.
David showed up a second later.“What is it, Faith?What… Oh God.”
“Call nine-one-one again,” Faith said.“Tell them we have a crime scene.”
CHAPTER TWO
Yelps from concerned dogs punctuated the soft drone of concerned human voices gathered on the path in front of the stand of trees.A Quantico Police officer was carefully driving a wooden stake into the ground while another wrapped the end of a roll of yellow tape around another stake and pulled it across the narrow dirt path that led into the copse.
Faith looked through the trees as David talked with the paramedics currently attending to Olivia, the woman who had passed out and first pulled Turk’s attention away from his bug-chasing.She was pale and shaking, but Faith doubted blood sugar had anything to do with it anymore.
“Poor girl,” the nearest officer said.
Faith followed his gaze and saw the Staffordshire Terrier, Luna, according to the tag on her collar, lying a few yards from the body of her owner, Iris Caldwell.Her head was in between her paws, and her eyes wore a shell-shocked expression that was remarkably and painfully human.Turk lay next to her, choosing to comfort the bereaved pup rather than investigate the scene.
Faith was fine with that, at least for the moment.A closer look at Luna revealed that she had been beaten with a blunt object, probably a club of some sort and almost certainly as she tried to protect Iris.David said her injuries weren’t serious, but while she would recover from her physical injuries, she had a long road to walk to recover from the emotional scars.
Turk caught Faith’s gaze and whined mournfully.He knew all about those kinds of scars.His first FBI handler, Special Agent Jack Preston, was murdered by a serial killer.That killer nearly killed Turk during that fight, and later that day captured and tortured Faith nearly to death.
Faith shivered at the memory and looked back at the crime scene.Crime scene investigators were gingerly examining Iris’s body, taking pictures of the surrounding area as well as Iris’s injuries.
Or rather injury.
“Cause of death was a single gunshot wound to the head,” the officer who had spoken earlier replied.“Small-caliber bullet, probably a twenty-two, but we’ll have the lab check it out and confirm that.”
Faith turned to the officer.He wore a sergeant’s chevrons and a nametag that read Meyers.He stared at the body with an expression of deep grief.
He caught Faith’s look and explained, “She looks a lot like my mother when she died.A little older and skinnier than she was, but… well, you get the point.”
Faith absolutely did.“It’s harder when the victim is someone vulnerable.”
Meyers scoffed.“Yeah.Old people and kids.Always the worst.Damn.”He wiped a hand across his brow, took a deep breath, and settled into a professional expression.“You’re an FBI agent, right?You hunt killers?”
“Yes,” Faith confirmed.“Special Agent Faith Bold.I specialize in highly organized ritualistic spree killers, but I’ve come across a lot of different sorts of murderer.”
Meyers nodded.“Any thoughts on this?”
Faith looked back at the body, which had been carefully lowered back to the position in which she had found it.
Her.Not it.Her.That was a human being.One of the most important lessons Jack had taught her was to never forget that victims were people.
“Is anything missing from her purse?”
“Nope.Wallet, credit cards, cash, and even a very pricey sapphire pendant are all still there.We dusted for prints, but my first impression is that they all belong to her unless our killer has very slender fingers.”
“So robbery’s not a motive,” Faith replied.
“What do you think about the weapon?”
