Jennie shook her head. “There was no sign of a sexual assault.”
“Okay.” He had to ask, given the way the victim was found and how it could have been a factor in her death.
“Oh, something else caught my eye…” Jennie cut into his thoughts. “I couldn’t help but notice that the decedent had the initials KB tattooed onto her right forearm. A boyfriend, perhaps?”
“Perhaps,” Campbell went along for effect. He certainly couldn’t rule out that the young woman might well have had a romantic relationship with cult leader Kenneth Braison. But the bigger question was whether or not he or his group had anything to do with her death. “We’ll see about that and its relevance, if anything,” Campbell told the forensic pathologist before ending the briefing.
* * *
CAMPBELL PULLED UPthe digital case file from the department’s Cold Case Unit on Lynda Boxleitner. Twenty years ago, in an investigation led by Detective Mason Sawyer, his father, the forty-one-year-old waitress and former cheerleader at Reston Hills High School was found dead and naked in Reston Hills Park on Founder’s Day.
She had a broken nose, and there were other signs of physical duress.
But what had killed her was poison.
According to the Eckerslin County Coroner’s Office,Lynda Boxleitner had died from ingesting thallium sulfate, a highly toxic poisonous compound used primarily as an insecticide and rodenticide. Her death was ruled a homicide.
Campbell noted that she had been branded on her right forearm with the letters WB tattooed on it, which were said to be the initials for Wendell Braison, the then-leader of the Braison Family before it was eventually taken over by his son, Kenneth.
Though the elder Braison had long been thought to have been responsible for Lynda’s death, Campbell’s father had been unable to prove it, and Wendell Braison was never charged with killing her.
And neither was anyone else, Campbell thought, of the case that went as cold as ice. He gazed at the photograph of Lynda Boxleitner, whom his father had dated briefly in high school before meeting and falling in love with Campbell’s mother, Alyssa. The picture was of Lynda in a cheerleader outfit from her younger years that showed off her voluptuous figure.
Though he didn’t see any clear-cut physical similarities between Lynda Boxleitner and the still-unidentified woman killed at the park on Founder’s Day twenty years later, given the similar circumstances that befell the women, Campbell couldn’t help but wonder if the deaths weren’t connected in some way. Perhaps the apple didn’t fall far from the tree where it concerned Wendell Braison, who died seven years ago, his son Kenneth and murder.
I’ll need to find out by paying the Braison Family compound a visit, Campbell told himself.
* * *
WITH HER HAIRin a high ponytail, Stefanie stood barefoot on a purple mat in the front of her studio on HaegadonLane for a power yoga class, wearing an orange crop tank and brown high-waist leggings. There were ten women in attendance for the physical and mental exercises, including Bella, who wore a red sports bra and white retro shorts on her toned, long-legged body.
With upbeat music playing, Stefanie took the lead in doing the intermediate routines, happy to lend her expertise to those in attendance. She was still reeling over finding the dead woman at the park yesterday, and could imagine her being part of the yoga class someday had her life not been extinguished.
“Call me anytime,” Detective Campbell Sawyer had told her when handing her his card, with respect to the investigation.
I wonder if I should take him up on that?Stefanie asked herself, anxious to learn more about the poor woman’s tragic death, as there had been no update on the case from the authorities. Apart from that, it would be nice to get to know the handsome detective—though she realized that might well mean discovering he was married with two children or engaged to the love of his life.
Stefanie frowned at the thought while refocusing on the yoga routines, which everyone seemed to be enjoying.
After the session ended, Bella, wiping perspiration from her brow with a towel, said, “Wow! That was a great workout, mind and body.”
Stefanie smiled. “Glad you enjoyed it.”
“What’s not to like?” Bella grinned. “I’ll have to give your tai chi class a try.”
“You should,” Stefanie encouraged her. “You’d be a natural.”
“Hmm…maybe.” Bella flung the towel over her shoulder.“Heard anything else about the dead woman in the park?”
“Not yet.” Stefanie looked at her, knowing that she had the connections in town to get answers. “How about you?”
“Only that the autopsy has been completed, though the results haven’t been released yet to the public.” Bella wrinkled her nose. “Guess we’ll know when we know how she died and what to make of it.”
“True.” Stefanie decided at that moment to take the plunge and give Campbell a call to see what he’d learned, for better or worse. She headed to the locker room, pulled her hair from the ponytail and hopped into the shower.
* * *
THEBRAISONFAMILYcompound was located off South Petriss Road on around ten acres of rural land in an unincorporated area on the outskirts of Reston Hills. It consisted of one big ranch-style house and a number of cabins, where many members of the cult lived. Campbell wondered if this was where the OD victim had stayed before her death. And had someone there supplied her with the lethal fentanyl, making them complicit in the woman’s demise?
