The River Girls

by Melinda Woodhall

  Nessa had watched Iris Nguyen pull up to the scene in the white Medical Examiner’s van, Wesley Knox riding shotgun next to her, and waited for them to pull the protective clothing over their street clothes.

  Now, they stood together waiting for the crime scene technicians to finish recording the scene. The video could be used later as a reference for the detectives, as well as evidence during any trial. Nessa hoped there would be a trial. The maniac that did this was still out there, and she had a sinking feeling that he wouldn’t stop until he was caught and locked up. And right now, she was the only one even looking for him.

  Alma approached, her brown eyes serious. She removed her face mask, revealing a pert nose and round cheeks.

  “Good to see you, guys” she said, nodding at Iris and Wesley. “We got a real bad scene down there. We’ve tried to protect the body by putting up the tent, but she’s half in the water and the sun’s only gonna get hotter. I’m thinking you’ll want to conduct your initial examination pretty quickly and get the body back to your office for the postmortem.”

  “Sounds about right, Alma.” Iris pulled out her camera and adjusted her bag over her shoulder. “Wesley, you get the stretcher out and make sure the van’s ready. Hopefully I won’t be down there long.”

  “I’m on it, boss,” Wesley said, walking toward the back of the van. “Just give a shout if you need help down there.”

  “We’ve already taken lots of photos, Iris,” Alma said. “And we’ve got the video done, so she’s all yours for now. Once you’re done we’ll collect and document any remaining evidence.”

  Nessa turned to Alma. “What about the belt? Have you tried to get any prints from it?”

  “No, not yet.” Alma looked over at Iris, eyebrows raised. “We wanted to wait until Iris examined the scene before removing the belt or disturbing the body.”

  “Of course, that’s good,” Iris reassured Alma. She turned to Nessa. “I’ll be as quick as I can, so we can check for prints right away. I know you want to find out who did this as soon as possible. So do I.”

  Nessa watched Iris hurry toward the tent. She knew she should put her coveralls back on and follow after the medical examiner, but she didn’t think her stomach would be able to handle the heat and the smell again so soon. She would need her energy for what lay ahead. The race to find the killer was just beginning.

  A black Dodge Charger nosed its way onto the grass and parked inches from a barricade that had been positioned to block cars from entering the area. Detective Simon Jankowski stepped out, his jaw already sporting a shadow of stubble, and his tie loosened at his neck. He approached Nessa, and she saw her own distorted reflection in his mirrored aviator sunglasses.

  “Morning, Jankowski. I’m surprised to see you. I know how busy and important you are,” Nessa said, still smarting from their last encounter. “Were you just passing by, or are you here to gawk?”

  “I’m here because Chief Kramer called me,” Jankowski said, his tone flat. “Took me off the case I was working on for Vice and re-assigned me. I’m now officially part of the Major Crimes unit. And for the time being, I’m your new partner.”

  “Well, I’ll be goddamned,” Nessa sputtered before she could stop herself. “Would have been nice for him to let me know.”

  “Check your messages, Nessa,’ Simon said, a sarcastic smile emerging. “I’m pretty sure he’s been trying to get you on the phone most of the morning.”

  Nessa didn’t take her phone out of her pocket. She’d turned the ringer off before she’d walked the scene and hadn’t thought to turn it back on. But she wasn’t going to let Jankowski see her fumbling with her phone now.

  “Maybe Kramer forgot I already have a partner.” Pete Barker’s worn face flashed through Nessa’s tired mind. “Barker will be back on the job soon, so your partnership won’t be needed.”

  “Well, that’s not the way Kramer sees it,” Jankowski said, crossing muscular arms over his bulky chest. “The way he sees it, we’ve found two dead girls in the space of a week, and you’re in way over your head on your own.”

  “Is that what he said?” Nessa asked, then regretted saying the words out loud. Before Jankowski could reply, Iris approached them, removing her mouth guard and pulling off a pair of latex gloves. Nessa could see the medical examiner wore yet another pair of latex gloves underneath them.

  Sweat beaded on Iris’ forehead and her cheeks were flushed. She didn’t waste time greeting Jankowski. “I’ve completed my initial examination and taken photos of the body in situ. The crime scene techs are collecting and tagging the evidence now. I’d like to get her back to my office for the autopsy. The sooner the better, of course.”

  “Can you determine the time and cause of death?” Jankowski asked.

  “Her body temperature indicates she’s probably been dead between twelve and fourteen hours, but it’s hot out here so it’s hard to say for sure at this stage. But she’s in full rigor now, so I’d say death occurred at least ten hours ago.” Iris sighed and bit her lip. “Lividity also indicates the body has been in the same position for at least ten hours. And based on the lividity patterns on her back, it looks like she’s been laying in the same spot as well.”

  “So, late last night then,” Jankowski said, taking off his glasses as he gazed down at Iris. “What about cause?”

  “It’s difficult to say at this stage whether death was ultimately caused by the ligature strangulation or from the blood loss sustained from the alligator attack. It doesn’t look like she was fully submerged in water, so we can probably rule out drowning, although once I perform the autopsy and can observe her internal organs we’ll know more.”

  Jankowski looked over at Nessa. “Alligator attack?”

  “I guess Kramer couldn’t tell you everything, could he, Jankowski?” Nessa said, but her tone was softer. She didn’t have the energy to be mad at Jankowski and try to find a killer at the same time.

  “There’s a dead girl down there that has a belt wrapped around her throat and track marks on one arm. The other arm was torn off by a twelve-foot gator. Now we gotta find out who killed her, and why.”

  “A belt?” Jankowski asked, absorbing the situation without showing signs of shock or surprise. “You get any prints?”

  “I want to remove the belt and check for trace evidence and latent prints once we get back to our facilities. The conditions here are less than ideal,” Iris said, waving over Wesley. “You going to attend the postmortem, Nessa?”

  “We both will,” Jankowski interjected before Nessa could respond. “We need to expedite the entire process. I want any fingerprints from the belt to be the top priority. He’s already killed two girls in one week. If we can I.D. this freak, we may be able to stop him before he kills a third.”

  “So, you’re assuming this homicide was committed by the same person that killed Jessica Carmichael?” Iris asked, glancing at Nessa.

  Nessa wanted to argue. After all, she knew from her first homicide case in Atlanta that similar crimes weren’t necessarily committed by the same perp. And she hated to agree with Jankowski’s theory when he’d only been brought into the investigation five minutes ago, but she nodded.

  “Of course, we’ve got to keep an open mind, but I’d be surprised if this isn’t the same guy. Looks like we just may have a serial killer in Willow Bay after all.”

  Nessa watched Wesley and Iris wheel the stretcher toward the tent. She turned to Jankowski and saw he’d put his sunglasses back on. She looked into his mirrored gaze. “I’m still waiting to hear back from Reinhardt. Last time I talked to him he said you never followed up to ask about the missing girls.”

  “I’ve been a little busy,” Jankowski said, then grinned. “But, I guess that excuse is getting a little old.”

  Nessa sighed and fished in her pocket for a tissue. She wiped the sweat off her forehead and stuck the tissue back in her pocket.

  “We need to know if these girls got their drugs from the same guy who killed them.
If Reinhardt can find out who’s supplying them, we may actually have a lead.”

  “It’s a long shot,” Jankowski said, and hesitated.

  He took off the aviators again to wipe the sweat from his forehead, and Nessa saw his eyes were tired and bloodshot. His brow furrowed, and he looked as if he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure he should.

  Shaking his head, he said, “Okay, I’ll reach out to Reinhardt. It’s worth a try.”

  Nessa studied him, trying to get a read on the man that was going to be her partner, at least until Barker returned. He was a handsome man under the glasses and stubble. His hazel eyes seemed worried, and she thought maybe a bit sad.

  Simon Jankowski is not a happy man. I wonder why.

  “You have some sort of problem with Reinhardt?” she asked, thinking maybe Jankowski’s reluctance to reach out to the older detective was caused by a personal dislike between the two alpha males.

  The engine of the medical examiner’s van roared to life, and Nessa looked around and waved at Iris and Wesley as they pulled slowly away.

  When she turned back, Jankowski was already climbing back into his Charger. He gave Nessa a mock salute, and then slammed the door shut. Within seconds he was on the road behind the van, headed toward downtown. Nessa stared at the road until the vehicles disappeared around the bend, a thoughtful look on her face.

  You’re hiding something, Jankowski. I’m sure of it. And I’m sure as hell going to find out what it is.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Eden stood at the granite-topped kitchen island, the ingredients needed to make Hope and Devon’s favorite lunch, grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches, spread out around her. She held up a container of spicy yellow mustard.

  “My secret ingredient,” she told Reggie, who sat on a stool across from her. “Don’t tell anyone or I may have to kill you.”

  The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them.

  Not really the right time to be making jokes about killing people, Eden thought with a grimace.

  “Don’t look so worried.” Reggie winked. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

  “Yes, I know you are great at keeping secrets, which is why I trust you with all of mine. But that’s not what I’m worried about.”

  Eden felt guilt tug at her heart as she spread a light layer of mustard over thick slices of bread. She had kept a secret from Reggie. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her friend, it was more that she didn’t trust her own memory.

  Eden still wasn’t sure what had happened the night Mercy died, but lately her nightmares had been disturbingly realistic. She was beginning to suspect her nightmares might actually be flashbacks.

  “I told the police I’d try to find out Star’s real name and last known address from the Mercy Harbor database. I was up all night stewing it over.”

  “Oh,” Reggie said, her forehead creasing into a rare frown. “That is a dilemma. I can see why you’re worried.”

  “I take the Mercy Harbor’s pact of confidentiality seriously. If we share the resident’s details, we could put their lives and their children in danger.”

  Eden knew that estranged husbands and boyfriends could stalk their ex-partners for years, trying to win them back, determined to stop them from meeting anyone else. These obsessed men could turn up months or years later with the intent to kill. It happened more often that most people wanted to acknowledge.

  Most women who had been the target of a violent ex-partner wanted to stay as far away from their ex as possible, and often went to great lengths to hide where they lived. Some changed their names and their appearance, desperate to live a life free of fear and harassment.

  “It’s a shame we can’t count on the police to keep the information from getting out if we do provide it to them,” Reggie said, absently tapping her long, red fingernails against the granite countertop.

  “The detective that called, Detective Reinhardt, said he would keep the information confidential, but I didn’t get warm and fuzzy feelings from him. He sounded pretty callous about the whole situation.” Eden stacked swiss and cheddar cheese onto the bread along with generous slices of tomato.

  “But if we can find out Star’s real name, and where her mother lives, we might be able to find her. And she may be able to tell the police where to find the guy she said killed her friend, Jess.”

  The pan sizzled as Eden lowered in the two sandwiches.

  “That smells delicious.” Reggie inhaled deeply. “Wish I could join you all, but I’ve got a group session starting in twenty minutes. You give the kids a hug from me.”

  “I will, and thanks for stopping by, Reggie.” Eden adjusted the heat of the stovetop and moved around the island to give the small woman a hug.

  Reggie’s thin body felt fragile in Eden’s arms, and she wondered, not for the first time, how such a little woman made her feel so safe. “I’ll let you know what I decide to do.”

  “It isn’t an easy decision, but whatever you decide, don’t let yourself get too emotionally invested. This situation isn’t your fault. You’re trying to help the best way you know how. That’s all anyone can ask of you, and it should be all that you ask of yourself.”

  “I got it, Reggie,” Eden said, a rueful smile appearing. “No negative self-talk. No worrying. No guilt. I’ll do my best to follow your advice.”

  Once Reggie’s Mini Cooper had sped away, Eden picked up her cell phone and tapped on Nathan Rush’s name in her favorite’s list. He picked up on the first ring.

  “Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” Nathan said, the smile in his voice making Eden feel guilty for not calling him back sooner. “I thought you were officially avoiding me.”

  “Sorry Nathan, but you can’t imagine what has been going on here,” Eden said, not knowing where to start. “I don’t have time to go into all the details, but I need your help.”

  “Oh, I see,” Nathan teased, “you’ve suddenly found time for me now that I can be of service.”

  “Nathan, this is serious,” Eden said, talking fast, impatient to find out if Nathan was going to be able to help her.

  “I’m trying to track down a girl who showed up at one of our safe houses and said her friend may have been killed. Then, two days later, her friend’s body was pulled out of the Willow River. And the girl I talked to ran away, so I need to find her to make sure she’s safe, and to find out what she knows about the guy who may have killed her friend.”

  “Wow, that sounds dangerous, Eden. Are you sure you should be involved in this?” Nathan’s concern was palpable, and Eden’s guilt returned.

  Nathan still worried about her. If she was honest with herself, she knew he still loved her. She shouldn’t be stringing him along. She should leave him alone to find someone who could make him happy.

  “Nathan, you don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’m a big girl, and I’ve been doing really well,” Eden said, not sure she was convincing anyone, including herself.

  “But I am running a foundation for battered women, so it’s part of the job to get involved in helping these women even when the situation may be unpleasant.”

  “And hunting down a killer? Is that also part of the job?” Nathan asked, his voice serious. “You’ve got Hope and Devon to consider. What happens to them if you become the target of some psycho?”

  “You know I would never put Hope and Devon in danger,” Eden replied, indignation making her voice shake. “And if you don’t want to help me, then I have to go. I don’t have time to waste.”

  “Of course, I’ll help you, Eden,” Nathan said. His voice was resigned, almost sad. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to help you.”

  Eden felt a lump in her throat and forced herself to swallow it and take a deep breath.

  “I need to find someone who stayed in one of our shelters. We keep certain information about the residents in our database. Names, ages, names of their children, history of their interaction with the foundation. It’s all confidential and used
only by the foundation’s staff. But now I need to search the database for a girl that might have stayed at a shelter in the last few years. I don’t have many details, but I was hoping you may be able to build a query I could run against the data?”

  “What kind of query?” Nathan asked, his interest peaked. “What kind of database is it?”

  Eden knew that if anyone could help her sort and filter data, it was Nathan, the technical genius behind Giant Leap, their data mining start-up. He’d been the brains behind the products and services that had earned the company rave reviews and a steady stream of new clients, while Eden had handled the business and finance side of things, coming up with strategies that had helped make the company one of the few start-ups that was actually profitable in its first year of operation.

  “I need a list of the women who stayed at the 1408 Shutter Street location within the last three years, and who had a daughter between twelve and seventeen years old at the time,” Eden said.

  “I’m hoping the query results can list out all possible matches. The list should include the name of the resident, the name of the resident’s daughter and the daughter’s photo. We keep a photo of all residents in their files for security reasons.”

  “As long as you have collected the data to support the query, it should be simple to create and run it,” Nathan said. “Of course, I’ll need access to the database, and I’ll need a login with the necessary permissions to create and run queries.”

  “No problem, you can remotely access my work computer and use my login.” Eden looked toward the side counter where her work laptop usually sat. The counter was empty.

  “Oh, great. With everything going on, I forgot my laptop at the office. I’ll need to go to the office before we can try to build the query.”

  “No problem,” Nathan said. “You get to the office and then call me. I’ll be waiting by the phone.”

  “Okay, it’ll probably be about an hour.” Eden looked at her watch as she put down her phone. Sage had taken the kids and Duke out shopping for supplies for their upcoming trip to Nassau. They should be home any minute. Eden reached for the spatula. The sandwiches were golden brown, a few drips of melted cheese oozing down the sides. She arranged the sandwiches on plates and sat them on the counter.