No Returns (10 page)

I looked at the gash on her neck. It was clean, almost surgical. No blood was present but given that she’d been in the ocean then used as a pull toy by a golden retriever, it was a pretty safe bet that this wasn’t the primary crime scene.

I had to tilt my head back to look up at Max. He was well over six feet with black hair and dark eyes. He had broad shoulders and a tapered waist. It was clear that he worked out regularly. And he didn’t wear a wedding ring.

I gave myself a little mental bitch slap. Here I was at a gruesome crime scene and I’m checking out the lead detective’s marital status. Maybe I’ve been at this job too long.

Speaking of my job, “What do you need from me?”

“I have nothing, Peyton. Nothing but pieces of dead people I can’t even identify.” He glanced over my shoulder. “Oh shit!” he muttered.

I turned to see the news van parking just behind my car. “This is the kind of case that attracts attention,” I reminded him. “Just give them a no comment at this time.”

He took his cell out of his pocket and called for an information officer on scene. Then he turned his attention back to me. “Why parts?” he asked.

“Trophies. Rituals. Sexual gratification. The torso . . . was she sexually assaulted?”

He shook his head. “ME says no.”

“Do you have a timeline?”

He shrugged. “The ME gave me a give or take twenty-four hours on the torso. The legs had more decomp, so the thinking is the male vic went first, then the woman, and we’ll have to wait on the ME on the head.”

“But all this happened within the last ten days?”

“Yes.”

“I assume you’ve already checked missing persons?”

“Negative. So I sent the information to the gulf states but I haven’t heard back.”

“This is pretty violent stuff here. Usually an unsub works up to this kind of mutilation.”

“It gets worse,” Max said. “According to the ME, the earlier victims were dissected while they were still alive.”