Page 91 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

The corporal shook her head. “She can’t, Remy. He killed her.”

Well, shit.

In an instant, the rug was pulled out from under her. She groped for her chair, her vision going dark. She dropped the file on her desk and tried to breathe.

In an instant, Colton was by her side. He was close but he didn’t touch her. “Remy?”

Colton’s concern-laced words penetrated the fog encroaching in her brain. She waved him away and he retook his seat. With obvious reluctance.

“What…” She swallowed and tried again. “What happened?”

Dorrie pointed to the file. “Georgia Dennison killed herself two months ago. Her mother couldn’t accept that. She’s been calling me every week, begging me to reopen her daughter’s case. When you came to me about Henrikson, something clicked. I can’t explain it—so don’t ask me to try.

“With Mrs. Dennison’s permission, we exhumed Georgia’s body. Because it was a suicide, the medical examiner’s office opted not to do an autopsy. They were supposed to. They’re supposed to with every death of a young person, but they didn’t.”

“And.” Remy wanted to get to the crux as quickly as possible.What happened?

“And the medical examiner ran a rape kit that was positive for DNA. We expedited the results. Graham Henrikson.”

“But how do you know he killed her? How do you know it wasn’t suicide?”

“Because the new M.E. took a better look at her neck. What they’d assumed to be rope marks were, in fact, handprints. He strangled her to death and then hung her by the rope to make it appear like suicide. The medical examiner will testify to all of this.”

A cold dread overcame her. “There’ll be so many questions, Dorrie. They’ll question the admissibility of an autopsy two months after death. A good defense attorney might even get this thrown out.”

“Does Henrikson have a good lawyer?” Colton’s question.

She couldn’t lie. “One of the best.”

“Remy, we got you the evidence.” Dorrie pointed to the folder. “It may not be perfect, but it’s as good as it’s going to get. We’re also reviewing any homicides and suicides of young women fitting the profile going back five years. But you were right. Your instincts were bang on. Danica wasn’t supposed to live. Sloppy of him to leave behind a living, breathing witness.”

“And lucky for us that she’s willing to testify.” Colton tapped his fingers on the table.

“She’s more than willing.” Remembering the fierce look of determination in Danica’s expression, Remy continued. “She wants him in jail where he can never hurt her or anyone else again. If I can get this evidence admitted, then he’s going away for a long time.”

For the first time, hope rose in her chest. She tried to tamp it down, but it refused to be dampened. She had a good feeling about this. The thick file on her desk could spell the death knell for Graham Henrikson. Well, not the death knell per se, as Canada didn’t have the death penalty, but she’d do her damnedest to keep him in jail forever if she could.

“I’ll take this to Zach.” Standing, she paused, taking a moment to compose herself. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“This was your doing, Remy.” Colton’s dark brown eyes sparkled with barely contained pleasure. He loved nailing bad guys. Dorrie did also, but she often tempered his enthusiasm. “This is because of your gut instincts. We won’t stop looking. We’ll let you know what we find.”

With that, Dorrie and Colton left the office.

Remy tried to sort out the myriad of emotions churning in her. Hope was the strongest. She wanted to call Rusty. She wanted to share the good news. Well, not good news, but the news. She needed his calming influence at that moment. But, for the moment, she’d have to keep the knowledge to herself. Well, there was one person she could share it with.

She picked up the file and headed to her boss’s office. She knocked on the open door.

Zach looked up from his computer. Her expression must’ve been telling, because he pointed to the chair across from his desk.

She entered the room, closing the door behind her.

“You look like the cat who caught the canary.”

She took a breath, schooling herself. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself, Zach, but Dorrie and Colton came through.” She handed him the file. “It looks like Henrikson killed a young woman.”

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Instead, he began reading the file.

She should’ve done that first, but the pressing need to talk about it had overridden common sense. Now she was being forced to exert extreme patience while her boss scrutinized every document.

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