Page 47 of Trap ’N’ Trace

“She was.” Bart tapped the pad with his pen. “Last month two individuals were arrested, along with a doctor who was signing off on phony diagnoses. Turns out the driver of the offending vehicle and the injured driver he slammed into from behind were actually cousins who were going to split the settlement. They had different last names, and it was Becca’s surveillance photos that pounded the nail into their coffins. She actually caught them in a bar, celebrating.”

Dayne swallowed another sip of muddy coffee. “How much would that settlement have been?”

“Half a million.”

Paulson whistled. “I can think of a lot of people who’d do a lot of bad things for half a mil.”

“Where are the two people who got arrested?” Dayne asked. “Chances are they wouldn’t have gotten jail time, so they’re probably out on probation.” And could have paid Becca a visit.

“Already on it,” Bart said. “I sent the names to ASAC Barstow, and she’s sending another team to interview them.”

“Good.” Dayne appreciated that Bart was on the ball. “How many other cases like this was she actively working?”

Bart flipped a page. “Seven with the same MO, but there could be eight.”

Something about the way Bart tapped the pad faster with his pen caught his attention. “Could be?”

“Becca’s file-keeping system was impeccable. Since she got her license, she worked a total of fifty-seven cases. She numbered every file folder sequentially and kept an inventory sheet with case numbers, along with the open and closure dates of each case.”

Dayne beat Bart to the punch. “One of the case files is missing.”

“Yep.”

“Does the inventory list any subject names for each case number?”

“Negative.” Bart shook his head.

He took another drag of coffee. “Becca’s husband said she never took work files home. So, in addition to the laptop and camera, now there’s a missing file.” He tucked that tidbit of information away in the back of his mind. They had no way of knowing if the missing file was relevant, but sometimes key evidence could materialize from otherwise seemingly inconsequential bits of information. “Okay. Thanks, Bart. Let me know if you find anything else.”

“Will do.”

When Bart had left the squad room, Paulson pulled up his email. “The ME’s final report is in. So are most of the lab reports for both crime scenes.” He printed out two copies of everything, handing one set to Dayne.

“Time of death,” Paulson read aloud, “estimated to be between four p.m. and midnight, Tuesday, March twenty-eighth. Cause of death…”

Before Paulson finished the sentence, the contents of Dayne’s stomach gave a vicious roll. Not that there’d been any doubt as to the COD, but still.

“…severe lacerative trauma to all major internal organs. Specifically, forty-seven stab wounds. Probable weapon was a smooth-edged blade, approximately five inches in length and two inches in diameter.”

They both read on in silence.

Many of the wounds on Becca’s back contained carpet fibers, indicating they’d been inflicted when she was lying on her back on the office floor. Meaning, the fucker kept stabbing her when she was already down.

Many of the wounds were nonlethal, but there were so many to her heart and lungs the organs were all but hacked to pieces. Her neck had been stabbed so many times and with such brutal force, her head had practically been severed from her body.

He’d seen a lot of bodies in his career, but reading such a gory report on someone he knew was enough to make his lunch launch right out of his throat. To prevent that from happening, he dragged in several deep breaths.

The rest of the ME’s findings on Becca and Amy were as expected. Blood toxicology for both was negative for alcohol, methamphetamines, marijuana, and traces of any other illegal substance. Amy’s COD was strangulation. Bruises in the shape of fingers confirmed the killer had used his hands. The lab reports were easier to stomach. Unfortunately, they provided very few, if any, leads.

The only blood in Becca’s office was her own. As expected, the place was covered with fingerprints, including Becca’s and a few of her clients who had minor criminal records. Nothing that spiked high on his would-be-homicide list, but it was worth following up on. All the other prints came back “not on file” and could belong to anyone. The postal carrier, the cleaning service Becca used, her husband, just to name a few. Process of elimination would take a while, but they’d be thorough just the same. Not having prints on file didn’t mean a person wasn’t capable of committing murder. They were better off using their time following up on a possible motive.

One that was, for the moment, elusive.

“DNA results were negative.” Paulson took a slug of coffee. “No one else’s DNA was present on Katrina Vandenburg or Amy Thorpe’s neck, or on the swabs from your dog’s mouth. And before you ask, CCU called me this morning. They only just got into the cell phone. It was encrypted and took a while. They’ll keep me posted on what they find.”

“What about this footprint in the mud outside the Canine Haven?” Dayne asked, flipping to the next page. Unless the killer wore shoes with unique tread or had an abnormally large or small shoe size, that wouldn’t give them much to go on.

Paulson set his mug down. “One decent imprint, approximately size ten, nothing unique about the tread.”