Field Of Graves. J.T. Ellison

sure about this? Is it possible she was seeing someone and simply hadn’t told you?”

      Chen shook her head, wiping the tears from her face with a red bandana. “No. No way.”

      Taylor gave Marcus the whirlybird finger. Time to wrap it up.

      He stood, handed the girl a card. “Thank you for your time, Miss Chen. Please call us immediately if you remember anything relevant.”

      Taylor and Marcus left the sobbing Chen and wandered back into the quad. Taylor spotted two boys smoking, walked over to bum a cigarette. Marcus watched her with concern, and she gave him a wink. The only time she smoked anymore was when she was really stressed out, but she tried to give him a carefree attitude as cover. Quitting was awful. She felt bad enough about her occasional slips without disapproving glances from her teammates.

      She walked back to him, knew he’d seen her slide the spare behind her ear. Appreciated the lack of comment.

      “Anything stand out from Chen’s interview?” she asked.

      “She was evasive about the possible boyfriend. We need to pursue that angle if at all possible. I think Shelby was seeing someone and didn’t want people to know. Her dad, especially.”

      She rewarded him with a big smile. “Excellent. Exactly right. So who was Shelby seeing when she was supposed to be studying at the library? And why was it so important to keep the relationship secret?”

      Before he could comment, her phone rang.

      “Jackson.”

      “It’s Fitz.”

      “Thanks for that. I do have caller ID on this thing. What’s up?”

      “We’re opening the park back up. Crime Scene got exactly squat, no trace, no worthwhile prints, no ID or clothes. She may well have flown there and landed on those steps.”

      Taylor laughed. “That’s about the best logic I’ve heard today. What’s Sam up to?”

      “She wrapped things up about an hour ago. She said she’s sending over the autopsy report. Everything’s square with Loughley, too.”

      “Hmm. Did you call him?”

      “Nope, she did it all by her pretty little self. Why?”

      “Nothing, just curious. We’re not getting too much over here either, other than the distinct impression Shelby Kincaid has a secret lover. We’re on our way. You need anything while I’m out?”

      “If you get by Jack’s Bar-B-Que, you could grab me some pulled pork, buns, and a Bud,” he said hopefully.

      “Mmm, sounds good. Skipping the beer, though. Sorry.” She clicked off her phone and snapped it back onto her waistband.

      “Okay, Marcus, let’s get some lunch and head back to the office.”

      Taylor took a last drag on her cigarette and flicked it away into the bushes. Saw a figure over Marcus’s shoulder. Chief Graber was standing by Carmichael Towers. He wasn’t smiling. Taylor ignored him, turned her back, and they started walking back to their car.

      Taylor’s cell phone rang again as she touched the handle to the driver’s side door. “Yes?”

      “Hey, T, it’s Fitz again. You’re gonna have to skip the food. How about meeting me at the sidewalk behind the River Stages.”

      Taylor rolled her neck to the left with a loud pop. “And I’m hungry too. What’s so interesting behind the stage, Fitz?”

      “How’s about another dead girl?”

      Her heart sank.

      “Oh no. We’re on our way. Give us five minutes.” She clicked off, looked over at Marcus, who was lounging with his arms across the top of the car, watching the coeds.

      “Get in, slugger. We’ve got us another body.”

12

      Taylor and Marcus drove back downtown in silence. Riverfront Park was only a few blocks from police headquarters. The body had conveniently washed up in their backyard. They parked and walked toward River Stages, a popular summer concert venue. Fitz waved cheerily at them.

      “Come on down and meet our next contestant.” He led them down to the river.

      Taylor shook her head and smoothed a stray hair behind her ear. As they neared the water, she saw the tarp over a lump on the riverbank. Marcus stayed a few feet behind her.

      “Okay, Fitz, what do you have?”

      He pointed unnecessarily at the body. “Well, there we have another dead girl. Boat passin’ by saw something in the weeds, came by for a closer look. She was facedown—they used a grappling hook to turn her over, called 911.”

      “Who got here first?”

      “Who else? Officer Wills. Happened to be on Second Avenue when the call came—he was here within a minute.”

      “Good, good. At least we know he didn’t screw anything up.”

      Marcus was shifting from the ball of one foot to another like a small child who needed to go to the bathroom. Taylor caught the movement.

      “Okay, Marcus?”

      “Yes, ma’am. Though two girls in two days is a little creepy for me.”

      “Yes, it is. But that’s what you get when you work Homicide. Let’s go take a look, shall we?”

      They made their way to the water’s edge. Taylor leaned in and pulled the tarp back from the body, grimacing at the smell. She hated floaters.

      A young woman’s ruined face stared back at her. “Damn,” she said softly. She pulled the tarp the rest of the way back, careful not to disturb anything lying beneath it. The girl was naked, bloated with the buildup of gases that had brought her to the surface. There were five distinct stab wounds on her torso. At least it would be a little simpler to determine what killed this one.

      She started to replace the tarp when she heard Sam a few yards away.

      “Go ahead and leave it off, Taylor. I need to take a look.” She tripped on some unidentifiable piece of trash and she fell into Marcus, cursing under her breath. He grabbed on for dear life to the first available appendage. It happened to be her left breast. She barked a laugh and gave him a smile that only deepened his blush.

      “God, Sam, I’m so sorry.”

      “That’s okay, cookie. Nice catch.” She winked and he recovered nicely, giving her a charming smile back.

      “Hey, T. You’re keeping me a little busy, ya know?”

      “Yep.” Taylor stepped back from the body to give Sam room to set up. She did so quickly, knelt next to the girl’s body, poking and prodding.

      “Stabbed a few times, huh? She hasn’t been in the water too terribly long, maybe a week.” She picked up one of the girl’s white, puffy, wrinkled hands. “Washerwoman’s hands. There’s probably enough skin left for prints. We’ll see. She’s not too old either—I’m guessing between eighteen and twenty-two.” She reached around and rolled the girl onto her left side, picking at the detritus stuck to the girl’s limp body. She scraped some of the dirt into a bag and stuck the bag into the pocket of her jacket. “Hmm.” She rolled her into her previous position carefully and stood up. “Was anything found with her?”

      Officer Wills tripped down the bank to join the party. “No, ma’am. We’ve been searching up and down the bank, and there’s nothing out of place.”

      “Okay. Let’s have one of the ’gators take a look around. Hey, Taylor?”

      “Yup?”

      “I’m