She blinked. That was a kind offer. She’d never seen fish fall from a helicopter before. “I would enjoy that.”
“Good. For now, tell me what you know about this latest death.” He flicked the wipers on faster. “I’m surprised you got the call from our friendly sheriff.”
“I didn’t. Dr. Ortega was called to the scene, and he phoned me on his way out there. He should have just arrived a few minutes ago, I think.” She tightened the ponytail holder she’d put into place to secure her hair as she’d rushed to get ready. “Flowers were left around the body, apparently.”
“Black dahlias?”
Laurel shrugged. “Dr. Ortega didn’t know yet and said the sheriff hadn’t said.” If the sheriff tried to assert jurisdiction, and it looked like the cases were related, she’d have to take it from him. “Perhaps you should take lead on the scene. The Genesis Valley Sheriff didn’t like me during our last case.”
“He didn’t like me, either,” Huck said grimly, passing a silent, dark cabin that looked as if it had been shut down for the winter. “I’d like to think he didn’t respect you because you’re a Fed and not because you’re a woman, but I’m not sure.”
“I’d rather he didn’t disrespect me either way.”
Huck snorted. “Good point. All right, I’ll deal with him if need be.”
“It’s not needed,” she hastened to add. “I just don’t want anything to interfere with the case and finding justice for the victims.”
“I know you can handle yourself, Laurel,” Huck said, turning down a drive that had been marked with a flare on the snowy road.
“Thanks.” She leaned forward to peer at the wooden cabin up ahead. Two patrol cars lit the area with blue and red swirls next to a champagne-colored luxury SUV, a green Jeep Wrangler, an ambulance, and the ME’s van. “Apparently, we’re the last to arrive.” No doubt the sheriff had called everyone else but her.
“Do we have any details?” Huck rolled to a stop next to the ME’s van and cut the engine.
“There’s a dead woman surrounded by flowers who happens to be the mayor’s sister-in-law.” Laurel released her seatbelt and shoved open the heavy door to climb out.
“Great.” Huck followed suit and gestured her in front of him toward the cabin.
She tromped along a now well-worn trail in her snow boots, eyeing the rustic-looking cabin. Lights blazed from the wide windows of the two-storied, log-sided structure. Thick wooden columns stood tall, flanking the steps, and the wide front door had a metalBengraved in the center. She opened the door and walked into the warm interior with Huck on her heels. Aeneas, well trained by Huck, stayed back far enough to remain outside the scene.
“Hi,” Dr. Ortega said, gloves on his hands and his bag on the floor. “I’ve already done a preliminary and wouldn’t let them move the body until you arrived.” His hair was mussed around his face and his pants wrinkled as if he’d hurriedly dressed in yesterday’s clothing. “I’m glad you’re here.”
It was nice to have an ally. “Thank you for making sure we were called,” Laurel said, pulling gloves from her pocket. She looked around the main room, which had been decorated in western style, from the cowboy paintings on the walls to the checked blankets on the leather chairs. “Where is she?”
“This way.” Dr. Ortega turned and led them into a spacious kitchen, where state crime techs were at work cataloging the contents of the refrigerator. He kept moving to a sliding glass door that opened to a covered deck.
Floodlights had already been set up along the perimeter of the home. Sheriff York stood near an empty hot tub snapping pictures of the scene with his phone. Several flashlights flickered through the trees and bounced off the frozen surface of the darkened lake many yards away.
Laurel walked out far enough to allow Huck room to see and then paused, staring down at the dead woman. Even though she was somewhat protected by the eaves covering the deck, she was frozen over with ice and a skim of snow. Her skin was gray and her eyes a light blue, wide open in death. The rest of her face and part of her skull were battered nearly beyond recognition. Brain matter had frozen to the side of her mangled ear. Her long hair appeared to be a light brown strewn with blood, and it was impossible to tell her age. She was naked, and her hands had been removed. In addition, black dahlias had been scattered across the entire deck and down the stairs toward the lake, all of the flowers frozen solid beneath ice and snow. “She’s been dead a while,” Laurel said, taking in the scene.
Dr. Ortega nodded from within the cabin. “I’d guess a week or two but won’t know until I get her back to my lab.”
Laurel looked at Huck. “She was killed before Dr. Rox.” Just how many victims were already out there? Were they all in remote locations and out of touch with people who were supposed to know them?
Huck focused on the sheriff. “Have we found the hands?”
“Not yet,” Sheriff York said, hitching his belt up. Snow had fallen on his receding hairline and then melted down the side of his face to mush in his thick mustache. His gaze flicked to Laurel. “This like the other body you found?”
“This is very similar,” Laurel said, crouching to study the cut marks on the wrists. “Have you found an ax?”
“Yes. Already bagged it, and it has blood on it,” the sheriff said. “We’ll get it examined for fingerprints.”
This guy didn’t leave any prints. Laurel stood and spotted firewood neatly stacked at the far end of the porch beneath the eaves. “We don’t know if he needs to use an ax or has only used them out of opportunity so far.”
“Does that matter?” the sheriff snorted. “He cuts off their damn hands. That’s what matters.”
Laurel focused on Dr. Ortega. “Who found the body?”
“Her sister,” Sheriff York answered. “Mrs. Bearing was worried when she hadn’t heard from her sister, so she came up here and found her. Called me.”
