Sterling said, “That’s my cue. After we get a look at her, we’ll take your statement. But you probably know the drill.”
He approached the other two men, and they all began conferring and gesturing at Vasti’s body. While Dr. Berg and Baxter continued examining the body, Sterling made a wide circle around them, taking in the entire scene. He came to an abrupt halt and put his hands on his hips, shooting me a glare.
“Damn it, Matthews! Did you step in blood and leave these shoeprints? You of all people should know better than that!” he barked at me.
I stalked toward him, making sure not to get too close to the scene. If there was one thing law enforcement hated, it was civilians mucking up a crime scene. “It wasn’t me,” I fired back, put out over having to defend myself again from Sterling’s ridiculous accusations. “Those shoeprints were there when I got here, and besides, they’re like a men’s size ten, genius.”
“I see you two lovebirds are still at it,” sneered Beck Durant, who had slithered up beside me unnoticed.
“Hi, Beck,” I said, not at all happy to see him.
Sterling snapped, “Becky! It’s about time you showed up. Get your ass over here and make yourself useful.”
Beck obeyed, muttering under his breath that his name wasn’t “Becky.” His assistant, a young woman laden down with her field kit as well as Beck’s, hurried after him. After they had all conferred for a while, Detective Baxter headed my way, with Sterling staying behind to boss around the criminalists.
Baxter said, “Ms. Matthews, how about I take your statement and give you a break from Sterling?”
“That would be great.”
“Let’s find a place to sit down and talk.”
He led me away from Kiddie Land, and we managed to find one picnic table that was still upright and in one piece. We both sat down, and he got out a notebook and a recorder.
“I guess we should start at the beginning. Why were you out here today?” he asked.
“Dr. Cooper and I are in charge of Ashmore College’s new forensic anthropology research facility, and Carnival Cove is its unfortunate location. The plan is for us to be able to study how human bodies decompose in a variety of outdoor settings. We were out here trying to decide which structures would be beneficial to our research and should stay and which ones should be torn down. We didn’t expect to already have our first subject.”
He made a face. “You’re going to leave bodies all around the park and let them decompose so you can study them?”
“Yes, that’s the plan.”
Getting a little green, he said, “That’s disgusting.”
I leaned away from him. “You’re not going to throw up again, are you?”
He shook his head, but I wasn’t convinced.
Hoping to steer the conversation away from the gore, I said, “Our facility could help the Sheriff’s Department and the coroner quite a lot. We could replicate crime scenes to help solve the more difficult cases. We could recreate certain conditions to help better pinpoint time since death. There’s a lot of good that can be done here.”
“I hope I won’t ever need help like that. Let’s keep going. Did you see anyone else here besides yourself and Dr. Cooper?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“And you mentioned that you saw the victim last night. Was that here or somewhere else?”
I was interested to find out Detective Baxter’s take on how the events of last night and the aftermath today were intertwined. “I saw her at a fundraiser for this facility that was held at Dr. Cooper’s aunt and uncle’s home. By the way, you should know that some of the students at Ashmore are not in favor of the new facility and have been protesting.”
“I know. I saw it on the news.”
“Right. Well, there were around two-dozen students protesting the fundraiser last night. The girl who was murdered, Vasti Marais, seemed to be their fearless leader. After the guests all arrived, most of the protestors left. But when I went outside, one of the diehards ran up and threw a bucket of pig’s blood on my evening gown, shouting, ‘Death to the body farm.’ ”
“Someone threw pig’s blood all over you?” he asked, dumbfounded. “Are you positive it was pig’s blood and not…any other type?”
“I think so. One of the other protestors assured me it was, and I have no reason not to believe him. I’m going to my lab to test it later to be sure.”
“Who threw the blood?”
“An Ashmore student. Justin something. I don’t know his last name. Now, I’m not trying to put thoughts into your head, Detective, but it would seem that my incident last night and the vandalism here are related, since the phrase ‘Death to the body farm’ is written in blood on the sign out front and the same girl was in both places.”
“You’re right. It’s no coincidence.”
“And one of the kids said ‘the blood isn’t for throwing on people’ or something like that. He didn’t say what it was intended for, but I can guess.”
“Did you recognize any of the other protestors?” he asked.
“They all looked familiar, but the only ones I know by name besides Vasti are Tristan Sellers and Eli Vanover. But Eli seemed to be covering it for the school newspaper rather than participating.”
“That helps. Thanks. And I take it you didn’t press charges if the student in question was likely out here vandalizing the place after your encounter with him?”
Shrugging, I said, “I figured it would be more trouble that it was worth. You cops make everything so difficult and ask way too many questions.”
He smiled. “I’m just getting started.”
I groaned. Detective Baxter fired question after question at me, ranging from minute details about last night to my opinion of the condition of the body to why Cooper seemed so upset about this whole mess. After an hour or so, I was getting tired of talking, but I could tell that the detective was close to wrapping things up.
“How did Dr. Cooper know Ms. Marais?” he asked.
“He said he was the faculty advisor last year for a student group she belonged to.”
He nodded, jotting down a note. “And what time did he leave the fundraiser last night?”
“I don’t know. I left early because of the blood incident. The last time I saw him was at seven thirty PM.”
“And did you go straight home from the fundraiser? Any detours on the way?”
I smiled. “An Uber driver took me straight to my home in Noblesville. No stops. I stayed at home the rest of the night.”
“Can anyone corroborate that?”
“My sister and my alarm system.”
His eyebrows shot up. “An alarm system. Do you live in one of those fancy McMansions this county is so famous for?”
“Not even close. But it’s only my sister, her little boy, and me, so we’re cautious. I’ve seen way too much not to be cautious.”
“That’s smart. I take it you’re already in CODIS and AFIS, so we don’t have to swab you or print you.”
He was referring to the Combined DNA Index System and the Automated Fingerprint Identification System, databases used to match DNA and fingerprints at crime scenes to persons in the systems. All criminal justice workers’ information goes into both systems for background checks and ease in distinguishing possible suspects from inadvertent crime scene contamination.
“I am,” I replied.
“Well, then I guess the only thing I need now is the garment you were wearing last night when you got hit with the pig blood.”
“Aw, really?” I was hoping he wasn’t going to take my gown for evidence, but I wasn’t surprised he asked for it. “Damn. I was going to cut my gown up and use it for a lab project in my classes.”
He laughed. “Only a hard-core criminalist would be more worried about her precious evidence being taken away than about losing a fancy dress.” He got up from the picnic table. “I’ll drive you to your house. Meet me out front.”
“Will do,” I replied.
CHAPTER FOUR
When I reached the front gate, a deputy lifted the caution tape stretched across the entrance so I could duck under it. I spotted Cooper sitting on the curb, head in his hands. His reaction bothered me. Usually he was so reserved and calm about everything, but between the protesting, vandalism, and Vasti’s murder, he was a wreck.
Going over and sitting down next to him, I placed my hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Cooper shook his head. “No. On top of everything, I’m a person of interest in Vasti’s murder since I own the park and also because I had a disagreement with her at the fundraiser last night. Of course the video recording of it is the top story on the Ashmore Voice’s website.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m a person of interest, too. I found the body.”
He didn’t respond.
“You don’t need to drive me home—I have to go with the detective to turn over my gown from last night as evidence. Looks like they may be trying to tie that kid who threw the blood on me to the vandalism here.”
Again, he didn’t reply.
At a loss for what else to say to him, I said, “So I’ll see you later?”
Looking over at me with anguished eyes, he whispered, “Ellie, I—”
“Well, young lady. You’ve had quite a day.” Shielding my eyes from the sun, I looked up to find Sheriff Jayne Walsh smiling down at me. I hopped up, and she embraced me in a motherly hug. She was a middle-aged woman in a man’s world, and she was tough as nails, except with me. She continued, “It’s different when you’re on the other side, huh?”
Her kind empathy giving me a lump in my throat, I dropped my arms and stepped back. “It’s good to see you, Jayne.”
“And you as well. Have my detectives questioned and harassed you thoroughly?”
“Yes, on both counts.”
“Ah, I take it you’ve run into Detective Sterling, then,” she said, chuckling.
“Unfortunately.”
Detective Baxter approached us, keys in hand. “Hello, Sheriff. Ready to go, Ms. Matthews?”
“Yes, I think I’d like to go home now,” I said, happy it was time to get away from this place.
Jayne winked at me. “Don’t leave town.” She ambled off toward the gate.
The detective was waiting for me, but I felt as though I needed another moment with Cooper. I said, “I’ll be just a second, okay?”
“Take your time,” Baxter replied, heading toward his vehicle.
I looked down at Cooper, who had his head bowed again. “Coop?”
He squinted up at me. “Yes?”
“If you need anything, call me. Even if it’s just to talk.”
A hint of relief in his eyes, he took my hand. “Thank you, Ellie. I will.”
I hurried over to Detective Baxter’s SUV and climbed into the passenger seat.
He asked, “You said you live in Noblesville?”
“Yes.” I gave him my address.
Pulling out of the parking lot, he said, “I don’t know of anyone who’s on a first-name basis with the Sheriff. What makes you so special?”
As a rule, I didn’t share the details of my personal life with people I’d just met, but Detective Baxter seemed trustworthy, and he was easy to talk to. “Are you bound by detective-civilian confidentiality rules here?”
He laughed. “I don’t think that’s a thing. But if you’re afraid I’ll tell Sterling, don’t be. I can keep a secret like it’s my job.”
“Well, it’s not a secret, but it’s something I don’t want broadcast to the department. When I was a kid, I was a serious hell-raiser. And I was good at not getting caught until I ran up against an off-duty cop named Jayne Walsh. She saw me shoplifting at Castleton Square Mall. Before I even knew what was happening, she had my face smashed against a jewelry counter and my hands tied behind my back with the ugliest paisley scarf I’d ever seen.”
“She’s quite a badass.”
“No kidding. I was mortified. Even worse, she took me down to the station, booked me, and threw me in a cell with two crack whores who were jonesing for their next high. They were nuts.” I shook my head and smiled at the memory. “I honestly thought they were going to kill me. After I was sufficiently scared out of my wits, she let me out, got my charges dropped, and had a heart-to-heart with me. It literally changed my life. After that, I ditched my delinquent friends, started studying, and decided to make something of myself.”
“That’s a great story. I had no idea the Sheriff had a soft side.”
“Jayne is a good woman. She’s the reason I became a criminalist. She took me under her wing—she knew my home life was horrible, so she made it a point to take me to dinner once a week and make sure I was doing okay. She helped me get into a good college, and then she hired me when an opening came up in Hamilton County. The rest is history.”
“After all that, though, why did you quit investigations and become a teacher?”
I lowered my eyes and gave my stock answer. “I had a case that really got to me. I lost my stomach for dealing with violence.”
His voice kind, he said, “Don’t feel bad. That happens. It’s unfortunate for the department, though. Our crime lab could really use someone in charge who knows what the hell they’re doing.”
“Don’t get me started on Beck.”
“I don’t mind so much that he’s incompetent, but he’s such an ass.” He shot me a look and winced. “I probably shouldn’t have said that to you. Can I invoke civilian-detective confidentiality?”
Smiling, I replied, “Sure, but it’s not a big secret that Beck is an ass.”
We both laughed as he pulled up in front of my house. When I got out, he accompanied me to my door, entering my home right behind me. My faithful Golden Retriever, Trixie, greeted us at the door, and Detective Baxter kneeled down to pet her, not seeming to mind her slobbery dog kisses. After Trixie had cleared him for entry, he followed me down the hall to my bedroom, which I found a little strange, but I didn’t say anything. He had the good sense to stop at my bedroom door, but unfortunately from there he could still see my unmade bed and overflowing laundry basket.
I retrieved the paper grocery bag with my ruined dress from my closet and grudgingly handed it over to Detective Baxter.
“I’m sorry to be the one to take away your lab experiment, but it’s evidence,” he said.
My half-sister Rachel opened her bedroom door and poked her head out. She whispered, “Shh. Nate is trying to take a nap.” She eyed the detective and gave me a meaningful look. “Sis, did you forget our pact about bringing friends home?”
I smiled. Rachel, at twenty-one, was mom to the light of my life, my three-year-old nephew Nathan. Although she was young, single, and a full-time college student, she took better care of her son than most parents, even after having terrible role models. Her only weakness was that she had poor taste in men. Not that I was one to judge. Since we knew we both had that problem, for Nate’s sake we had made a pact never to bring any of the men we dated into our home.
“He’s a cop, Rach,” I explained. “He’s collecting my dress from last night for evidence.”
“And I was just leaving,” said Baxter, heading back down the hallway.
Rachel disappeared into her room, and I followed Baxter out.
Stopping at the door to study the bag, he said, “Nice. It’s very nerdy of you to bag and tag your own evidence. Thanks.”
Old habits died hard. After taping the bag shut, I had scrawled my name, the date, a brief description of my dress, and the word “biohazard” onto the bag before I’d even realized it. “No problem,” I said.
He handed me a business card. “If you remember anything else about today or last night you’d like to add to your statement, give me a call.”
“I will.”
“Take care, Ms. Matthews. Try to stay out of trouble.”
Grinning, I said, “I’ll certainly try.”
The moment I closed the door, Rachel
descended on me. “Who was that guy? He was cute!”
“His name is Detective Nick Baxter. He works for the Sheriff’s Department.” I hesitated. “Um…Rachel…you’d better sit down. I have something to tell you.” She sat down, and I said as gently as I could, “One of your classmates is dead. Vasti Marais.”
Her hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes filled with tears. “Vasti? How? What happened?” she whispered. She and Vasti hadn’t been especially close, but they had been in classes and campus organizations together.
“I can’t tell you much, because…I’m sort of mixed up in the situation.”
“You? How? I don’t understand.”
“I found her body when Cooper and I were out at Carnival Cove. She was murdered.”
Rachel gaped at me. “Why would anyone want to kill Vasti? Everyone loved her.”
Sighing, I replied, “It’s a tragedy. And since I found her and I…saw things, I feel like I need to treat it like my cases when I worked for the crime lab. Aside from what I’ve already told you, I shouldn’t talk about it at all. I know you would never blab the details, but I don’t want any information about the crime scene leaking out because of me.”
She wiped her eyes. “I understand. Are you okay, though? Finding a dead body has to be—”
Rachel was interrupted by a knock at the door. An excited Trixie made a beeline to the front window to get the first glimpse of whoever was outside. When I opened the door, a woman dressed in a pantsuit thrust a microphone in my face.
She asked, “Are you Ellie Matthews, the person who found the body of Vasti Marais, Ashmore College student, at Carnival Cove this afternoon?”
I froze. Behind her stood a cameraman with a large news camera trained on me. The thought hadn’t yet crossed my mind that reporters would pester me over this. What troubled me most was that there were already two news vans parked in front of my house, with a third one pulling in. I was about to be the center of a full-blown media circus. With Indianapolis having numerous far-reaching local news outlets, it wasn’t out of the question that this could become national news.
Bitter Past Page 4
