Walter turned his head and coughed, the sound rattling. He heaved several times but didn’t throw up. “Sorry. Need to stop drinking.”
Laurel looked at the bridge and across the river. “He didn’t hide her this time. Since we found his dumping ground off Snowblood Peak, is he showing off for us?”
“How could he be? There’s no way he’d know we were coming here,” Walter whispered, looking around at the rapidly darkening day. He set his hand on his weapon, which was visible beneath his coat. “I didn’t tell anybody about our plans. Did you?” His voice rose slightly.
“No,” Laurel said. “But it makes sense that searchers would canvass the surrounding areas while the storm abated.” She stared at the dead female and fought the human urge to cover the body with her coat. Nobody should be laid to rest like that. Even though the woman had passed on, it was a travesty to leave her cold and alone.
“Then why?” Walter snapped.
Laurel shook her head, careful to keep snow from landing on the body. “I think he’s playing a game with us. If we find this body and witness his handiwork, then he wins. If we miss the body, then he leaves us another one. Either way, he wins.”
Walter scratched his forehead. “So he didn’t really care if we found her?”
Laurel shook her head. “The victims don’t mean anything to him after they’re dead.” Yes, she was getting a clear picture of this guy. “He’ll keep leaving victims for us now that he’s engaged. We interrupted his game, and now he’s going to force us to play.”
“That’s nuts,” Walter snarled. “Look what he did to her. There’s bruising on her inner thighs.”
“I know,” Laurel said quietly, trying to banish her feelings so she could think more clearly. “We have to get the body out of this weather.”
Walter reached into his jacket and drew out a radio. “No cell service out here, but I came prepared.” He looked over at the bridge. “We didn’t see her when we crossed, but I was watching my feet to make sure I didn’t slip. How about you?”
“Same,” Laurel said. She stared beyond the picnic area at the solid rock face leading up to another set of peaks. “Is there a way to reach this area besides following the trails we just used?”
Walter shrugged. “I don’t know.”
If not, how close had they come to seeing the killer? There hadn’t been tracks, so they’d missed him by at least an hour if not more. That feeling of being watched that she’d had in the parking area—was there a place he might have hidden? She couldn’t think of where, but that instinctual warning had been intense.
Walter frowned and looked around. “I know from the maps that we’re on state land right now. This side of the river and mountains all belong to the state rather than the federal government.”
Laurel leaned over and scanned the ice-burned flesh. “He had you for a while, didn’t he?” she whispered. Shallow cuts accompanied the bruising across the woman’s ribs and down her hips. “She wasn’t just tossed here. See how her feet are set between those two rocks so the body doesn’t get pulled into the river?”
Walter leaned closer. “Yeah, and her head is settled in an indentation as if he kicked a small hole for it.”
Laurel pointed to the woman’s hands, which lay palms down with the fingers perfectly extended. Snow began to pile up between the fingers and cover the nails, which were painted a dark red with no chips. “It looks like he painted her nails before he placed her by the river.” She craned her neck to see the feet in the water. “Same with her toes.” They were a bright and unblemished red. “There wasn’t any mention of nail polish in the autopsies of the other victims, and the one body I saw didn’t have painted nails.”
Walter paled as the wind blew the bottom of his parka tight against his body. “So this is a new thing?”
Laurel forced herself to drop into the mind of the killer. “Is he making her pretty for us? Or is he just messing with us? I don’t know.” She leaned closer. “Is that eye shadow?” It was difficult to tell if the woman wore makeup because of the gray tinge to her skin. “I think so. Her eyelashes are very dark as well, and that’s probably mascara.” Not one smudge showed beneath the victim’s eyes. Had the killer polished her nails and made up her face after bringing her out to the picnic area? “He likes to take risks.”
“Why would a man do up her face like this?” Walter scouted the darkened trees beyond the outhouses. “Keep an eye out. He might be watching us.”
“It’s possible but doubtful. He wants to play for a while, but getting caught now wouldn’t work for him. Shooting us might, though.” She scouted the entire area. “He’s not here, Walter. We have to protect the remains as best we can from the elements. Just in case he made a mistake this time.”
“This guy doesn’t make mistakes,” Walter muttered, his hand waving the radio.
As she blinked snow out of her eyes, her neck chilled and her skin prickled. The murder was under state jurisdiction for the time being, which actually was fine with her. “Call in Fish and Wildlife, and then let’s try to find something to protect the body.”
Walter made the call on the radio, which crackled ominously. Then he tucked it away. “We could use one of our coats to shield her, but then we’d risk hypothermia. It’s not worth taking that chance, Agent Snow.”
“Agreed.” She moved to the other side of the victim and put herself between the wind and the body, taking out her cell phone to capture the macabre scene before snow concealed everything. “This will have to do.”
Walter crossed to her side and dropped noisily to his haunches to help block the wind. He breathed out of his mouth again. “They shouldn’t be too long. We left a trail, right?” His grim smile didn’t convey humor.
The snow had already covered their trail, but their location would be easily found. Laurel finished taking her pictures, fighting both the snow and piercing wind. The light continued to die, and the temperature dropped as the wind and snow picked up speed and strength. They took turns trying to protect the body and then moving around to keep their limbs from freezing. Finally, lights and the sound of movement came from the other side of the river.
“It’s about time,” Walter groused, standing and groaning as he stretched his back.
Laurel shivered and put her gloved hands in her pockets.
