“Thank you.” It was the proper response, but Laurel had never understood why. She had no control over her chromosomal pairs. Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it free of her pocket, surprised to still be receiving cell service, and unsurprised to see the identity of the caller. “Good morning, Captain.”
The sounds of a fire crackled across the line. “I heard we have another body. Are you headed to the scene?” Huck asked.
“I am, with Monty and Officer Jordan in a UTV,” Laurel said. “You have been removed from this case.”
Huck sighed. “I know, but I heard that the vic was found by Witch Creek. I know that area better than anybody.” Aeneas whined through the line. “I should head out there.”
“We both know you can’t. If you want to be busy this morning, try to track down a judge to sign the warrant for Haylee’s apartment, would you? We have been unsuccessful with that.” She covered the phone with her hand. “Monty, somebody in your office notified Huck about this case, and you need to put a stop to it. He has to be shielded completely.”
Monty turned. “I’ll raise a ruckus when I return to the office.” He grimaced over his shoulder at Laurel before focusing on the trail again. “Everyone likes and respects him so much, they all want Huck to stay on the case.”
“It won’t help in the long run,” Officer Jordan said. “In fact, once we catch the killer, it’ll screw up the entire case against the murderer. You have to know that.”
Monty sighed. “I do. May I have the phone?”
Laurel handed her phone up to him.
Monty visibly straightened his shoulders. “Hi, Captain Rivers. If you interfere again, I’ll have you put on disciplinary leave.”
Laurel leaned closer to hear.
Monty sighed. “Thank you for understanding, and yes, that was really difficult to say. Is Aeneas enjoying those new dog treats I found in Snohomish last week?”
Laurel settled back against her seat as Monty and Huck engaged in small talk until Monty lost service. He handed back the phone. “He’s okay.”
“Good.” Laurel leaned against the side of the UTV and closed her eyes, surprised by how tired she remained even after sleeping for several hours. She may have dozed off until they reached an area with a couple of obvious camping spots. She stepped out, and the wind chill slapped her wide awake. “This isn’t where we found Abbott’s Witch Creek victim.”
“No,” Monty said. “We’re about . . . I don’t know. What would you say, Jills? Maybe half a mile north of that scene?”
“So, he chooses the same body of water but not the exact same location,” Laurel said. “I wonder if that’s by design. Is the ice heavier here? We need to check that out, Officer Jordan. Please take pictures of the ice in this location and then the ice where Jason Abbott’s first victim was found, all right?”
“No problem, Agent Snow,” Officer Jordan said. “This baby will drive anywhere. I’m happy to do that.”
They required additional backup for this case. “Thank you.”
Dawn was just lightening the sky and the forest around Laurel as she followed Monty between the trees toward Witch Creek. Icicles hung from the surrounding branches, and fresh snow covered the trail they followed. Many sets of boots showed near the tree line, no doubt as officers tried to preserve the trail, but Laurel couldn’t discern any prints.
This killer seemed both methodical and lucky with the weather.
Monty looked back at her. “Do you think that the killer has changed his MO? I mean, initially there were three days between kills, and now seven days?”
Laurel’s boots sank into the snow near a tamarack shivering in the wind. “No. I think he’s careful and has to wait for the easiest time to take a victim. Based on what we know so far about Delta Rivers, she was a victim of opportunity, so we have to surmise the same for all of them right now—until we track her movements better to see if she somehow was stalked.” There were too many unanswered questions about Huck’s mother.
The wind cracked between the trees in bursts, pushing Laurel forward. Silence drummed around them as if the forest held its breath, allowing the wind to triumph.
She shivered, shoving her gloved hands into her pockets and ducking her head. Tucking her chin inside her jacket, she stepped in Monty’s footprints, unsure why they stayed off the main trail. There were no prints. Period.
Finally, they emerged onto a crusted-over beach area complete with two worn and weathered picnic tables near the tree line. Ice covered them both.
Fish and Wildlife officers had already set up several spotlights as well as a tent over the body. From the look of the scene, the state crime lab techs had been at work for at least thirty minutes.
The creek stretched wide at this point with the other side showing a drop-off between the trees and the creek. Ice spread across the water, which bubbled in protest against it in several areas, not quite breaking through.
Laurel neared the body. She could barely make out blond hair beneath a bubble of ice that encased the victim’s head and stretched down her entire length. She wore a long, gray trench coat with bright red boots. Awareness began to tick down Laurel’s body, and she shivered, making sure her coat was zipped up to the very top. She should’ve remembered to wear a scarf. Stepping to the side, she studied the creek.
She angled closer, noting that the hole this time held sharper edges, like the first crime scene, so perhaps an ice spud pole had been used again. “We need pictures of the ice close up and far away, and I’d love to get a molding of those indents if it’s possible.”
“I’ll try,” the nearest tech said. “Officer Tso has taken photographs of the entire area. The ice has already melted quite a bit, but I’ll do my best.”
