“Amanda Hartford.”
“I knew her, at least by reputation.She owned that women’s clothing store downtown until it closed—what, about eight months ago?”
“Hartford’s Closet,” Jake supplied.“She lost it after filing a lawsuit against Heather Banning.Claimed Banning stole her business model, her suppliers, even her display ideas.”
“And she also lost in court,” Jenna added.“I remember it was pretty messy.Lots of talk on TownCircle.”
“Brenda Drummond had a field day with it,” Jake confirmed.“Amanda was working at the discount store out by the highway after that.Register job.”
Jenna felt a pang of empathy.She’d seen Amanda there once, scanning items with mechanical motions, her once-confident posture diminished by the ill-fitting red polo shirt of the store’s uniform.To fall so far, so publicly, in a town with such a long memory—it must have been excruciating.
“Green is for envy,” Jenna repeated softly.“So someone killed Amanda because they thought she was envious of Heather Banning.”
“Or maybe because Amanda’s envy drove her to actions that hurt others,” Jake suggested.“We don’t know the killer’s logic yet.”
“What about our persons of interest?”Jenna asked.
“We’ve had officers watching Brenda Drummond, Roger Dixon, and David Ellington all night.None of them left home.”
“That means we start from scratch,” Jenna said.
They turned onto Maple Street, where three patrol cars were parked in front of a shabby apartment complex.Yellow crime scene tape fluttered in the morning breeze, creating a barrier between the ordinary world and the horror inside.As Jake parked, a county medical examiner’s van pulled in behind them.
“Perfect timing,” Jake said, nodding toward the van.“Stark’s here.”
They got out of the car just as Dr.Melissa Stark emerged from the van, her silver hair pulled back in a practical bun, her movements efficient as she instructed her team to bring in their equipment.She spotted Jenna and Jake and approached with a grim smile.
“Sheriff.Deputy.”Her handshake was firm as always.“I’d say good morning, but it clearly isn’t one.”
“Dr.Stark,” Jenna greeted her.“Thanks for coming so quickly.”
“Two murders with creative posthumous decoration in less than a week?”Stark raised an eyebrow.“I’d say that warrants prompt attention.”
They made their way through the gathering of curious neighbors and ducked under the crime scene tape.The building’s stairwell smelled of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener.Officer Maria Delgado stood in the second-floor hallway outside an apartment door, her notebook ready as she spoke quietly to a woman in workout clothes.The woman’s face was ashen, her eyes red-rimmed with pain.
“Sheriff,” Delgado acknowledged Jenna.“This is Cathy Gifford.She found the victim this morning.”
“Ms.Gifford,” Jenna said gently.“I’m Sheriff Graves.This is Deputy Hawkins and Dr.Stark from the medical examiner’s office.I know this is difficult, but we appreciate you staying to speak with us.”
Cathy nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as if cold despite the building’s stuffy warmth.“I didn’t want to leave her alone,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“We’ll talk more in a moment,” Jenna promised.“First, I need to see the scene.”
“I’ll stay with Ms.Gifford,” Delgado said.“Everything inside is untouched.”
Jenna pulled on a pair of latex gloves and paused at the door to look at the lock, where she saw some telltale scratches.
“The lock was picked,” she said.
“And the building has no security system,” Jake added.“She was an easy target.”
Jenna, Jake, and Dr.Stark entered the apartment, leaving Cathy in Delgado’s care.The small living space was neat but spartan, with furniture that looked too large for the room, as if transplanted from a more spacious home.Through an open bedroom door, Jenna saw what she’d been dreading since Piper’s whispered message.
Amanda Hartford lay on her back on the carpet, arms stretched outward, green yarn wound elaborately around her body.The vibrant emerald strands encircled her neck multiple times, then branched outward in geometric patterns across her torso, also binding her wrists and ankles.
“Identical presentation to Derek Sullivan,” Dr.Stark said, kneeling beside the body.She examined the ligature marks on Amanda’s neck.“Strangulation, like the other case.Lividity suggests she’s been dead approximately eight to ten hours.”
Melissa Stark’s voice took on the sardonic edge that came from decades of seeing the worst humanity had to offer.“Trentville has its very own serial killer.Again.You folks certainly keep me busy for such a small town.”
