by Cameron Dane
“Holy mother.” Jasper crossed himself even though he hadn't been to church since his grandmother died.
Ren slid off his horse and pulled his cell phone off his belt. “Keep the horses back,” he ordered. “I'm going to call the station and then take some pictures in case we can't keep the animals away.” His lips and face had gone completely pale. Jasper knew he probably looked equally sick. “You call Caleb and Jake. They need to know about this too.”
Jasper's hands shook as he unclipped his walkie-talkie, and his legs didn't feel entirely steady when his feet hit the ground. He put the device to his mouth and made a call to home base. Jasper steadied his voice enough to ask to speak to one of the bosses, but he could not keep his eyes off the horrifying sight some dozen feet away.
In the center of a copse of oaks, three or four feet off the ground, a naked woman with long auburn hair hung nailed to a tree. Someone had stretched her arms wide across a long slat of wood, making her resemble Christ on the cross, and had secured her hands to the piece of wood with long nails or spikes. The wood holding her arms open had been attached to the tall, bare trunk of the tree, and it looked like her ankles were nailed to the thick base. One ankle anyway. Her left leg ended at the knee, and Jasper could only guess the cougar Ren had frightened off with his gunshots had taken the lower half of her limb with him. Birds—and God knew what else—had picked at her face and body, and she had large chunks of skin missing.
The crackle of static ripped Jasper out of his trancelike state. “Jake here.” The complete authority in Jake's familiar voice immediately focused Jasper. “What's up?”
“Boss—” God, Jasper didn't want to say anything too explicit over the walkie-talkies, no matter that others working the ranch would not hear this channel. “You need to get Caleb and come to the mountain edge of the high north grazing land, right now. It's something really bad.”
“We'll be right there. Jake out.”
Jasper clipped the walkie-talkie back to his belt, swallowing bile as his gaze automatically went back to the girl nailed to the tree. Ren snapped picture after picture all around them, capturing the entire scene as well as the surrounding land. Jasper forced himself to take his eyes off the horror of the slain woman and look around the area, studying, just in case he could be of some help.
* * * *
Saying a silent prayer under his breath, Jace looked to Cade. “Do you have any early thoughts about her?” He and Cade stood on ladders on either side of the murder victim, waiting for the sheriff's okay to remove her for transport to the crime lab in Bozeman.
“Dead before she was nailed to the slat of wood and the tree,” Cade answered, his voice muffled. His eyes shone dark above the safety mask covering the lower half of his face. Jace wore protection over his mouth and nose too. They also wore latex gloves.
“I'd say so too,” Jace agreed. Since they saw no blood flow from the puncture wounds, nor from areas picked at by animals, they could take some comfort that her death had preceded her killer attaching her to this tree. The body was unmistakably that of a female, but with the damage done to her face by birds and other critters, Jace didn't think even her family members would be able to identify her. “I'm not seeing any real signs of violence.” He shared a grim look with Cade. “From what's left of her anyway. No obvious knife trauma or bullet wounds.”
“I have some bruising on her wrist here,” Cade said, pointing as he looked at Jace. “Maybe the perp held her by the arms at some point and dragged her. If we're lucky, we might get some prints.”
“Here.” Jace handed Cade a camera so he could take a picture. They already had hundreds of photos, but it never hurt to take one more. He shifted and looked at the woman again, trying to see past the carnage to the clues. “Wait a minute.” Jace took another step up the ladder, as a hint of bizarre perfection lived in the mess. “Look at her hair. See how it's all precisely styled at the edges? Kind of curled forward?” It reminded Jace of how Sarah sometimes did her hair, and he shuddered.
Christ, I would not survive if I lost her. In any way, let alone like this.
Shaking himself mentally, he returned his attention to the job. “The top part is wrecked, probably by the birds, but I wonder if someone styled her before they put her up here? Or maybe after but didn't anticipate animals so quickly damaging the picture he was trying to create.”
“Posing and styling her, beyond the obvious religious conclusions we're supposed to draw with the Christlike position of the body?”
“Maybe.” Jace appreciated the ability to share ideas with an experienced law-enforcement officer like Cade, who had worked a lot of big-city crime when he lived in Texas. “Caleb and
Jake have cattle grazing in this area right now, so if it was someone local, they would have known a cowboy would find the body at some point today when checking on the fence and animals.”
“True.” “Wherever she was killed,” Jace added, “the perp then had to bring her here and somehow get her attached to this tree. If she went out last night, I'd think any primping she might have done at home would be nonexistent by now. I think our killer had to do it, whether here or somewhere else.”
“Good point.” Cade's brow furrowed, and he looked off into the distance. “There hasn't been anyone reported missing in Quinten lately, so if she's local, she lived alone or didn't have anyone expecting her home last night.” Cade turned back to Jace, and Jace could see the wheels turning in his mind. “You figure you give the guy time to grab her, kill her somewhere else, transport her here—let's assume under the cover of darkness for the fact that it makes the most sense—and then Ren and Jasper don't find her until nearly noon… She has to have been gone from her life for ten to twelve hours, I'd say. Probably more than that. It's doubtful she would have gone out at midnight.”
“Yeah. More than likely, she went out dancing or to see a movie, considering yesterday was Friday. Maybe she had a date.”
“That's assuming he took her yesterday.”
“That's why we're not going to assume anything.” The sheriff, Duke Boone, broke into the conversation. He climbed up a third ladder, joining Jace, Cade, and the body. “Robyn can't get here, and she can't send anyone over fast enough to be of help right now.” Robyn Fallon was the head of forensics at the crime lab in Bozeman, Quinten's resource for lab work and assistance on crime scenes such as this one. “They're working that quadruple homicide we heard about earlier today, and she needs all hands on deck over there. I gave Robyn everything I could and sent some pictures to her laptop. She has instructed me to pry our Jane Doe's ankle and the slat of wood away from the tree, but to leave her attached to the wood itself. You two keep hold of her and the slat, and I'll pry her off.”
Duke climbed down, and another deputy handed him a large crowbar. Duke looked to Cade, then Jace, and then a dozen feet away to where Jasper, Ren, Jake, and Caleb remained. Grimacing, Duke asked, “Everybody ready?”
Everyone nodded, and Duke, quietly and efficiently, worked the metal behind the victim's ankle and detached her from the tree. Silence reigned all around them, and the absence of sound—even that of animals—whispered a shiver through Jace.
Duke climbed up the third ladder again and, as with the ankle, worked without words and pried the nails driven through the slat of wood from the tree. Jace held tight to the body and wood, determined not to let their victim fall as her weight slowly shifted from the tree to Jace and Cade. Men below held the ladders in place, making sure Jace, Cade, and Duke didn't topple under their task.
“Steady.” Cade gritted his teeth, giving the tight-lipped instruction as the job of holding the dead woman transferred completely to him and Jace. Both men strained under the weight but steadily worked their way down the ladders until they hit a point where deputies waiting on the ground could reach up and offer assistance.
“All right, we have her.” Deputy Max Stuart gave Jace and Cade verbal instructions from below. “Slowly, everyone, we're going to lower her facedown
onto the board.” When Jace didn't feel any pressure on his arms, he released his hold on the body, let the others take over the task of settling her on the makeshift gurney, and jumped to the ground.
“Okay.” Max's voice remained authoritative. “That's good. Carson!” she called out, gaining the attention of their newest deputy. “We're going to shift the board, and I need you to strap her down for me.”
Jace was in the process of removing his gloves when Carson said, “Hey, look at this,” and immediately gained everyone's attention. “She has a tattoo on her left buttock.” Carson looked to the sheriff. “A cowboy hat and a boot. That should help in making a positive ID on her, right?”
Everyone in uniform swooped in on the body to get a closer look. A commotion erupted behind them, and suddenly Jasper pushed his way past Cade, right up to the dead woman, whispering, “Oh my God.”
Swearing, Jace pushed in front of Jasper and strong-armed him back. “Get away from the scene.”
“But wait.” Jasper wiggled around Jace's hold. “It's important.” His Adam's apple bobbed as he looked at everyone in the group. “I know her.”
Jace grabbed Jasper by the upper arms and swung him around, putting them chest to chest. “What did you say?”
Jasper looked at Jace; his lips were pale, and his eyes were wide. “Her name is Ginger Carlton. I used to date her.”
Chapter Four
“Jasper!” Sarah shot out of her seat as Jace guided Jasper into the station. “What is going on?”
“Not right now, Sarah.” Jace answered before Jasper could. “You can talk to him later.”
“It's okay,” Jasper added. “We're just talkin'.” I think.
Jasper kept his eyes turned down to the floor as Jace led him down a hall and opened the door to an interview room. He knew he hadn't done anything wrong, yet he couldn't help feeling guilty or dirty in some way, just by being led to a room like this.
“Go on in and take a seat,” Jace said. “I'll be right with you.”
The door closed as soon as Jasper stepped inside, and a chill went through him.
God, what must Sarah think about me right now? Jasper recalled the trouble in his past, and he wondered if Sarah had that on her mind too. He wanted to run back down that fluorescent-lit hallway and assure her he hadn't done anything wrong. He wasn't in trouble; he was here to help. If he walked out of this room after talking to Jace and saw doubt in Sarah's eyes, it would crush him. He had worked so hard to become a good person, someone Sarah could believe in and trust.
The doorknob turned, and Jace entered the room. “Do you mind if I tape this?” He held up a little recording device. He also had a spiral notepad tucked under his arm.
“Uhh…” Jasper's hands shook, and he shoved them under the table to his lap.
Damn it, Jace is just a regular guy. Get control of your nerves around him.
Easier thought than done. During the afternoon today, Jasper found his attention drifting time and again to Jace, and he had become unduly fascinated by the bigger man's focus and command of his job. Jasper had not once seen Jace cringe or turn green at the graphic crime scene, and while watching, Jasper had witnessed the respect Jace's coworkers and boss had for him.
“Mr. Simmons?” Jace rapped his knuckles on the table, jerking Jasper out of his own head. “Are you with me?”
“Yeah, no, sorry.” Flames of embarrassment crept up Jasper's neck. “It's fine to record what I say. I'm not hidin' anything. And you know my name is Jasper.” The flush rose the rest of the way up Jasper's face, but he forced himself to swallow the knot lodged in his throat and face Jace head-on. “It feels like you're mockin' me when you call me Mr. Simmons like that.”
Just a hint of a hitch marred Jace's stride midstep, and Jasper knew he hit the mark. “Fine,” Jace said. He took a seat across from Jasper and put the recorder on the table between them. Jace folded his hands on the table and looked right into Jasper's eyes. “Now, do you care to tell me what was so private about our victim that you couldn't speak about it out at the ranch?”
“It's not private so much as just tryin' to be respectful.” The hairs on Jasper's arms stood on end as he relived all those people staring at him back at the ranch. Discomfort didn't even begin to describe his reaction to such scrutiny and attention. Sitting across from Jace right now intimidated him nearly as much. Jasper cleared his throat and picked at a hangnail on his thumb but, with determination, held Jace's gaze. “It didn't feel right talkin' about Ginger with her body lyin' right there and all those people around her.”
Jace dipped his head. “Okay. I respect that.”
“You do?”
Jace's pupils flared, nearly drowning out the circle of pale green. “I'm not an animal, Jasper, despite what you might view as evidence to the contrary.” Jace thumbed a button on the recording device, and the green light at the top changed to flashing red. “I apologized to Sarah. Just so you know. I'm not proud of that moment you witnessed this morning. I don't treat women that way; I don't treat people that way.” Jace's lips narrowed to a thin line, mirroring the natural hardness of his face. “Most of the time anyway.”
Empathy welled in Jasper, as well as an almost overwhelming urge to reach across the table and hold Jace's hand. What the hell? Clasping his hands together to keep them from moving, Jasper murmured, “I guess we all make bad choices sometimes. Even a guy like you.”
“A guy like me?”
“Yeah. You know, strong, capable, respected.” Handsome. Feeling sick to his stomach, Jasper added quickly, “Sarah thinks all that, I mean. She talks about you all the time. She says she wouldn't have gotten through all these years without you there to understand and listen about her brother. That's why I went after you this mornin' like I did. I know what you said probably hurt her feelings, and that pissed me off just as much as the meanness of your tone.”
With his eyes pinpointed on Jasper, Jace opened his mouth. “I wanted—” Abruptly, he clamped his jaw and curled his hand into a fist against the table. “Never mind. You were right to defend Sarah, and I don't hold any hard feelings. Now that we're clear on that…” Jace put his finger back on the recorder. “Shall we?”
“Right. Of course.” Jasper sat up straight. His thoughts drifted to the scene at the ranch, unlike anything he had ever witnessed. His chest hurt with awareness that, beneath all that mess, he knew the murdered woman. “Ask me whatever you want about Ginger. If I know the answer, I'll tell you. I want to help.”
Jace pressed the button that got the recording device going again, and leaned back in his chair. “All right. Let's start again with how and when you knew the victim.”
“Okay, um, we went out for maybe a month around four years ago. It was right after Caleb hired me back on at the ranch.” Jasper shot forward to the edge of his seat. “But that was before I knew Sarah, even when we was just friends.”
A half smile quirked Jace's mouth up at the corner, and his eyes lit for a moment too. “Noted. Tell me about this woman.” Jace rubbed his hand around the back of his neck. “Paint me a picture the sheriff is not likely to get from her family when he speaks to them.”
Heat swept through Jasper, and he rocketed to his feet. “It ain't like that. She's ain't— isn't”—he dug his knuckles into his thigh—“wasn't a bad person.”
“Let me explain something to you, Jasper. Everyone's real life is an amalgamation of family, friends, relationships, work… The list goes on. There are always secrets. What you see in one area is rarely a complete picture of the individual. I'm not asking you to defame anyone; I just need all the pieces. It might lead us to her killer.”
The wind left his sails, and Jasper sat back down. “All right. Here's the thing: I get tonguetied a lot, and I don't make that many first moves with dates. With Ginger, it wasn't really a problem.”
“How is that?”
“She was not shy,” Jasper answered. “Not back then anyway. She made offers without any kind of pretendin'. I was twenty, not da
tin' anyone, and I knew I was out of my league with her, but I didn't say no.” Shrugging, Jasper pushed down the monumental discomfort living inside him that talking about this subject, with this man, inflamed in him. “I'm a guy, and she was pretty and nice and fun. We had sex a couple of times. That's how I know about the tattoo on her backside. I asked her about it once; she said she liked cowboys.”
“But you only saw her for a month,” Jace said, possessing a driving focus that stirred Jasper's blood. Uncomfortably so. “Why didn't it work out?”
“Couple of reasons. First, I didn't have that much money, and she liked to go out every time we got together. Not anywhere fancy necessarily, but just out a lot. She wasn't askin' me to pay; I just couldn't afford my half all the time like that. Second, I was working a ton, even more than I do now. I could only see her about twice a week, and I gave up some extra shut-eye just to do that. It wasn't enough time to get to know her real well.”
Swallowing down the nasty taste that came with telling tales out of school, Jasper forced himself to get everything said. “But mostly it was that one of the guys told me she was seein' a couple of other cowboys too. My buddy didn't have nothin' in it for him to lie, and when I asked her about it, Ginger was honest. She liked to have fun; she never told me otherwise. I didn't realize that meant she was seein' other people at the same time she was goin' out with me.” It left Jasper cold to think this woman he used to know might have slept with her murderer. “It was her choice, but that ain't my style, so I broke it off with her.”
“And she was okay with your ending the relationship?”
“Yep.”
“What's the name of the friend who told you about Ginger?”
“Ahh, a guy named Bruce Arnold. He works for the Hawkinses too.”
“Okay.” Jace made more scribbles on his notepad. “And do you know the names of the other men she was dating while going out with you?”
