Profile of Evil

by Alexa Grace

  "What about your parents?"

  "I lost my dad to cancer when I was ten," Brody said. "I don't remember much about him except how much he loved my mom."

  "I'm sorry. What about your mom? Does she live in Morel?"

  "Mom died seventeen years ago."

  "I'm so sorry, Brody.

  "Don't be. She was a fantastic mother and excellent sheriff. We were lucky to have had her in our lives," Brody said. "Aren't you going to ask me where you're going to stay while you're in Morel?"

  "I assume you have a hotel," said Carly.

  "Actually, we have an ancient historic hotel on Main Street, but I wouldn't let you stay there."

  "Why not?"

  "There are rumors that guests have seen rats as big as cats."

  "Ugh. I'm not a big fan of rats or spiders. Where am I going to stay?"

  "My family has a cottage on a lake on our property and our housekeeper is getting it ready for you. By the time we arrive, there should be fresh sheets on your bed and food in your refrigerator."

  Before Carly had a chance to respond, Brody's cell phone went off and he was deep into conversation. He turned to her as soon as he ended the call.

  "That was Cameron. Yesterday, before my flight, we learned about a thirteen-year-old girl reported missing in Indianapolis, which is about an hour from Morel. I want to talk to her mother tomorrow. Do you want to go?"

  "Absolutely! By then, I will have made a first pass through the evidence in your file."

  <><><>

  By the time they rented a car and finally reached Morel from the airport, Carly was starving, so Brody drove straight to Mollie's Cafe. If there had been another decent restaurant in town, he would have gone there. Anywhere but Mollie's.

  As his luck would have it, Mollie was working when they arrived, and made a beeline for them.

  "Hi, handsome," she said to Brody. To Carly, she extended her hand, "I'm Mollie. Welcome to my cafe."

  "I'm Carly Stone, and thank you."

  Mollie led them to a quiet table in a corner of the restaurant, placed their menus on the table, and headed back to the kitchen for their iced teas.

  Brody watched Mollie walk away and remembered the time he'd loved her as much as any teenage boy could love. But that was a long time ago and things had changed.

  "Are you seeing her?"

  "No." He concentrated on the menu in the hope Carly would stop asking personal questions.

  "She's an ex?"

  "I'd appreciate it, Ms. Stone, if you'd limit your intuitive talents to our case, and not my personal life."

  "Sorry, Sheriff Chase, I didn't know you were sensitive about it," Carly murmured.

  "Who said I was sensitive about it?" The second the words came out of his mouth, he realized how defensive he sounded and wished he could take them back.

  "I'm sorry. Blake tells me I'm too blunt sometimes. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

  Brody glanced at Mollie, who was now busy taking care of a customer at the cash register.

  "It was a long time ago. Mollie and I were just teenagers," Brody said.

  "First love?"

  "Yeah. I was the high school jock and she was a hot cheerleader. Pretty stereotypical."

  "So what happened?"

  "I was nineteen and in training at the police academy when it happened. Mom was the county sheriff back then," Brody began. "One day while I was sitting in a classroom in Indianapolis listening to a DNA expert from Quantico, my mom was getting shot by a drug dealer who didn't want her to open his car's trunk."

  "I'm so sorry," Carly whispered.

  "She'd just stopped him for a broken tail light. That's all. By the time she got to his driver-side window, it was too late to avoid the gun he had aimed at her heart. One shot and it was over." Brody swallowed hard. A raw and primitive grief overcame him. Clenching his jaw, he picked up his menu again.

  <><><>

  Carly watched him carefully. After all this time, his grief was still like a steel weight on his shoulders. Though she said nothing, she knew there was more to the story. Someday she would ask him to finish the story. His body language, the pain in his eyes, told her that he felt somehow responsible for his mother's murder. That was the thing about guilt; you could be a hundred miles away from the event and still blame yourself.

  Carly had an up-close-and-personal relationship with guilt. Two years earlier, she'd arrived late to a sex trafficking bust to find the targets had beheaded her partner and best friend. The visual still had the power to fill her eyes with tears.

  A slender, delicate thread was beginning to form between Brody and Carly, and she was unsure of how she felt about that. She was here to do a job. That's all. Once the killer was captured, she'd head home to Florida. Carly intended to go home with her heart intact. Besides, her work required her undivided attention. Carly didn't need a distraction, not even one as tempting as Brody Chase.

  Mollie refilled their iced tea glasses and asked to take their orders. Suddenly, Brody's cell phone sounded. He pulled it out of his pocket, looked at the display, and said, "I need to take this."

  Carly watched as Brody left the restaurant to take the call outside.

  "Have you and Brody been seeing each other long?" Mollie asked.

  "Uh, no, I just met him last night," Carly said.

  Mollie held up her hand. "Listen, I didn't mean to pry."

  "No, no, you don't understand. I'm working for Brody as a consultant."

  "I shouldn't have asked. Do you want to wait until Brody returns to order?"

  "Yes, thank you." Carly replied.

  Brody rushed back to the table, "We've got to go." He gulped down his iced tea and slapped a five dollar bill on the table.

  He raced the rental car down the street to the Sheriff's Office where he picked up his sheriff SUV in the parking lot. "What happened?" Carly asked, as she buckled her seat belt.

  "Cam said a couple of boys found a human skull," Brody explained as he flipped on the lights and siren and headed toward Indiana State Road 32.

  "Where?"

  "Outside a small town called Perrysville. The kids found the skull in the woods on a farmer's property. It's the same place we found the car fire and the two murdered girls."

  "So we could be talking about a killer preferred dump site?"

  Brody nodded. "I don't understand it. I had my deputies along with the CSI techs comb those woods for evidence the day of the car fire. They didn't find anything."

  "Anything could have happened in the meantime. The skull could have been covered by leaves and debris, and the boys or the wind could have uncovered it. The important thing is we find the rest of the bones for identification. They could be scattered throughout the woods by animals."

  Brody slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting a huge John Deere tractor that pulled onto the road, and Carly slid forward on the seat until the seat belt restrained her.

  "You can slow down, Sheriff. The bones aren't going anywhere," Carly said as she reached for her small overnight bag in the back seat.

  "What are you doing?"

  "I've got a sweatshirt and a pair of Reeboks in here. I can't work the scene in a business blazer." She fished out a gray hooded sweatshirt and the pair of shoes.

  "What do you know about working a scene like this?" Brody asked.

  "Plenty. I wasn't one of the federal agents officially assigned to the case, but I helped search for the bones after meter reader Roy Kronk found the skull of two-year-old Caylee Anthony in a wooded area in Orlando."

  "You're kidding," Brody exclaimed. "You worked on the Casey Anthony case?"

  "With the rest of the team, I searched those woods for days for bone fragments. When I wasn't searching in the blistering heat, I was sieving through buckets and buckets of dirt for bones or anything else of potential evidentiary value," Carly said. "So, Sheriff, you can rest assured I know how to work this scene."

  Carly tugged her arms out of the blazer sleeves, and threw it in the bac
k seat. She slipped the gray sweatshirt over her head, pulled an elastic band out of her jeans pocket and pulled her long hair back in a ponytail. Then she pulled off her heels, threw them in the back seat, and slipped on her Reeboks.

  When they reached the crime scene, a deputy waved the Sheriff's vehicle through so they could turn onto a dirt road and park. Brody and Carly followed yellow crime scene tape and maneuvered through brush and vines until they came to a clearing in the woods. It was the same site where the burning car was found. A couple of canopies had been set up that covered long tables. Several CSI technicians were using screened sieves to sift through dirt and rocks. What looked like a set of ribs and an arm bone lay on the blue tarp covered table next to them. Carly reached into a box of blue latex gloves and slipped on a pair.

  <><><>

  Brody headed to the second tent where he saw Cameron and Bryan talking.

  "Glad you're here, Brody," said Cameron.

  "What's going on?"

  "We got a call about three hours ago from Sherry Johnson, Wally's wife and mother of the two boys. It seems the boys were playing in the woods when they found the skull. They took it home to Mom, and she called the police."

  "What more have you found?"

  Bryan said, "We've got a rib cage and an arm bone. The more bones we find, the better we'll be able to put the skeleton together."

  "Do you have any guesses as far as the age and sex?"

  "Not yet. We won't be able to determine the sex until or if we find the pelvic bones," Bryan began. "As far as age, judging by the teeth, I'd guess between ages twelve and seventeen. That's just a guess. I'm not saying anything official until Dr. Harris gets here."

  "Who's that?" Brody asked, hands on his hips.

  "Dr. Ken Harris is a retired forensic anthropologist who lives in West Lafayette. His specialty is assisting in victim identification through skeletal remains. I heard he's one of the best," said Bryan as he brushed a fly away from his face.

  "Sounds good," Brody replied. "Cam, who's searching the woods?"

  "I pulled in four deputies who were off duty and a couple of CSI technicians. I've also got a trainer and a cadaver dog on the ..."

  "Hold on. Who's that?" Bryan asked, pointing toward the first tent.

  "Who are you talking about?" Cam responded, as he scanned the area.

  "The woman there in the ponytail. The one with the curves who's holding a sieve. Who is she, and what's she doing in my crime scene?"

  "That's our consultant," Brody replied.

  "That doesn't look like a 'Carl' to me," said Bryan.

  "It seems Sheriff Brennan made a typo in the email he sent to me when I asked for the consultant's name who helped him solve the serial murder case he had last year. Her name is Carly Stone."

  It was Cameron's turn to question. "Brody, didn't her name appear on her resume?"

  "I didn't read it until last night. Tim Brennan's recommendation was enough for me."

  Bryan let out a short laugh and shook his head. "I wish I had been there when you discovered Carl was a raven-haired beauty with those kinds of curves and mile-long legs."

  Remembering the first time he saw Carly, swimming nude in her pool, Brody said, "It was a moment I won't soon forget." Although it was a moment he should forget. The relationship between Carly and him needed to stay strictly business. Once her work on the case ended, she'd leave for her home in Florida. If there was one thing he didn't need in his life, it was a broken heart.

  Bryan poked him in the ribs. "So aren't you going to introduce us?"

  <><><>

  Carly shook the sieve gently to reveal a couple of pebbles, but no bone fragments. She looked up to see Brody walking toward her with two other men. One of the men looked a lot like Brody, only a couple of inches shorter and with a stocky build that was all muscle. He had to be one of Brody's brothers. The other man wore a white lab coat and was handsome in a traditional sense, but lacked Brody's confident, sexy swagger.

  "Carly, I'd like you to meet my brother, Cameron, and Dr. Bryan Pittman, our county coroner," said Brody.

  After shaking hands with each man, Carly said to Bryan, "Do you have experience identifying victims through skeletal remains?"

  "Not much," replied Bryan. "That's why I have a retired forensic anthropologist on his way here."

  "Good to know," Carly said. "If this area is one of your killer's favorite body dumping sites, there is more to find here than the rest of this body's bones."

  "What do you mean?" asked Bryan, frowning thoughtfully.

  "Serial killers often prefer a particular area for their body dumps. Ted Bundy favored the Taylor Mountain Forest where he dumped many bodies or body parts, especially heads. He'd toss the head fifty feet from the road, or if he was thinking clearly, he'd bury his victims' heads."

  "Not liking the visual," said Cameron with a grimace.

  Carly continued. "Gary Ridgeway, the Green River killer, dumped his victims' bodies in wooded areas around the Green River, except for two confirmed and another two suspected victims found in the Portland, Oregon, area."

  "So what are you saying?"

  "I'm saying it's very likely there are more bodies buried in shallow graves in these woods."

  "Well, if that's true, the deputies and technicians I have searching the woods will find them."

  "Are you saying you already have searchers in the woods?"

  "Yes, they've been out there about an hour," Cameron replied.

  "You've got to call them back," insisted Carly.

  "Why?"

  "Because when it comes to finding bone fragments and shallow graves, they can accidentally do more harm than good. They need to be briefed by your forensic anthropologist."

  Before Cameron could respond, three young men led by a middle-aged man with a shock of white hair and a trim mustache approached the tent. He focused on Bryan, wearing his white lab coat and said, "I'm Ken Harris, the forensic anthropologist you called."

  Bryan made introductions and Dr. Harris introduced the three young men with him as Indiana University interns completing field experiences.

  "What have you found so far?" asked Dr. Harris.

  Bryan pointed to the table behind him, "We have the skull, a rib cage, and what looks like an arm bone."

  "I see," Dr. Harris responded as he fingered the bones. "And it looks like you've already started the sieving process. That's good. Do you have search volunteers?"

  "Actually," Cameron said. "we sent a group of deputies and CSI technicians into the woods looking for bone fragments an hour ago."

  "That's not good," said Dr. Harris. "They cannot be out there searching until I talk to them about what to look for, and what to do if they find something. These woods are your crime scene. Any site of human remains is a crime scene where the potential for evidence is significant. Untrained searchers can unknowingly destroy valuable evidence."

  "I'll call them back," Cameron said as he stepped away.

  "I apologize," said Brody. "It's just that we've never experienced anything of this magnitude."

  Carly stepped forward. "My name is Carly Stone. I'm a former FBI agent who is working as a consultant for the county. I have reason to think we are working with a serial killer. These woods may be his preferred body dump site. When you brief the searchers, please teach them what to look for and what to do if they should find a shallow grave."

  "I agree, Ms. Stone. There may certainly be more to find in the woods than just bone fragments. As soon as the searchers return, I will brief them thoroughly. In addition, my interns, who have already been trained in searching for human remains, will join them in the search."

  <><><>

  In record time, Cameron gathered the searchers. Dr. Harris stood before them.

  "You are searching for human bone fragments, but you must keep a sharp eye out for shallow graves. If your killer has dumped one body here, there may be more.

  "The wooded area you are searching is a crime scene where the potenti
al for evidence is significant. It is, therefore, critically important that the entire scene, and evidence within it, remain in context. That is, not be moved or tampered with. Respect the entire area you are searching as a crime scene.

  "We only have one chance to extract the remains completely and correctly. If you should find anything, do not attempt to remove it yourself. Flag the area and call your supervisor so he can send someone on my team to your site immediately." Dr. Harris paused briefly and drank from his water bottle.

  "What are some of the things we should look for?" asked Jason, a deputy in his first year of service.

  "You may come upon a large area of disturbance in a search area that may represent where the perpetrator rested or re-adjusted the weight of the body. Alternately, the same disturbance may simply be a result of animal activity. There may be signs of passage leading to a specific area, including human or tire tracks and signs of dragging.

  "Ask yourself what is the likely or probable path taken by the perpetrator? Was the body dragged or carried to the scene? Look for evidence of the killer's activities, such as the presence of cigarettes, food wrappers, etc."

  "This is my first search for human remains. How will we know if we've found a shallow grave?" asked Tessa, another one of the deputies.

  Dr. Harris advised, "Some shallow grave indicators to look for are changes in vegetation, or bare patches in an otherwise plant-filled area.

  "You may find a halo of little or no vegetation. Depressions in the soil often indicate a shallow grave. Significant bloating of the body will cause soil to be pushed upwards, and then resettle as the body collapses.

  "In older graves, you will find depressions with plant growth."

  "Is there anything else they should look for?" asked Cameron.

  "Yes," said Dr. Harris. "Look for animal burrowing or signs of digging, especially in relation to ground depressions. Cracking or fissuring of the soil is often present around grave sites.