“Sure.” Gabe got on his phone and texted Nolan. “Could take some time with such broad criteria.”
El continued around the vehicle but halted next to the driver’s door. She grimaced, then looked at him. “Join me over here.”
Professional El had taken over—sharp, to the point, demanding.
With anyone else, he might be irritated, but he loved seeing the confidence in her law enforcement abilities.
He headed her way, pausing to study the van’s tailgate. The shattered taillight matched the pieces on the road.
She pointed at the ground. “Blood. Looks like a struggle.”
He’d walked over this area last night to open the door, but hadn’t noticed blood in the dark. “I would’ve contaminated this area when I raced to the driver’s door.”
“Couldn’t be helped, but now that we know it’s here, we can avoid further contamination.”
He studied the blood, his brain flooding with terrible possibilities. “Do you think this is where her killer gained control of her?”
“Seems probable, but Kenna didn’t have obvious wounds that would cause this blood.” El pointed at the ground where a one-foot circle of blood saturated fallen leaves. “Maybe she injured her assailant. Maybe with a knife.”
“She doesn’t carry one, but she could’ve used something else.” Gabe dropped to the ground and shone his phone’s flashlight under the van. Something silver sparkled back. He took a quick picture.
He hopped up and swiped to the photo to show El. “A blood-tipped screwdriver.”
“Say that was Kenna’s weapon. What was she doing with a screwdriver?”
Yeah, what?He stared at the picture. An idea came to mind. “Her license plates. She just got those custom ones and needed a screwdriver to change them. She could’ve left it in the van.”
“She’d need to be a strong woman to keep her wits about her and remember that while a man was attacking her.”
“She would’ve done everything within her power to protect Lucy.”
She wouldn’t be protecting her sweet baby girl anymore.
Who would, if Lucy was alive? Not her father or her family. Kenna had asked Gabe to take care of Lucy if anything happened to her, but she’d never made it official.
A new shockwave traveled through him. Could the responsibility for the little princess actually fall on him? He loved the tiny tyke beyond anything he’d ever known, but he was the last person who should be raising a child. He didn’t even have his own life together. How could he parent a child?
One thing was clear. He could never let her go into foster care.
El lowered her camera to rest on her chest. “Leave the screwdriver for Sierra to collect. Let’s follow the blood trail.”
He followed her over pine needles and leaf debris. She paused several times, squatted, and shone her flashlight on still damp smaller splotches of blood. Wet, the mist to blame, but they’d still turned brownish red.
She stood and looked him in the eye. “Someone continued to bleed. Maybe reached the point of needing immediate medical intervention.”
Thankfully, she stopped before saying who might’ve needed that intervention.
No way he could handle her saying the pool and trail of blood could belong to Lucy.
6
El stood at the water’s edge in the ravine with Gabe near what remained of a crumbling dock disappearing into the murk a few feet away. If the killer had used a boat to move Kenna and Lucy, this could’ve been his launch point.
She looked at Gabe. “I assume you noticed that there weren’t any drag marks.”
He nodded. “Which means if he moved her in a boat from here, he had to have carried her. He also would’ve had to carry the car seat. Kenna must have been restrained enough for him to not worry about her escape while he carried Lucy in her car seat over here.”
She scanned the shoreline again. A deep V-shaped gouge marked the bank, the kind a metal hull left when someone beached in a hurry. Freshly trampled grass fanned out from the spot, helping confirm her theory.
