“That’s us,” Novak said, offering his hand for a shake. “I’m Special Agent Novak, and this is Special Agent Gift.”
“Good to meet you. I’m Deputy Joe Leery. Welcome to the crime scene.” His voice was deep but measured, carrying the soft drawl of a Virginia native.
Leery was an imposing figure, well over six feet tall, with broad shoulders that filled out his tan uniform. But his face held a gentleness that seemed at odds with his size – warm brown eyes and smile lines around his mouth that showed even through his current serious expression. He couldn't have been muchover forty, though touches of grey had started to appear at his temples.
"What can you tell us about the scene?" Rachel asked, noting how Leery's demeanor shifted immediately to all business.
"Follow me, I’ll show you," he said, gesturing toward a barely visible trail leading into the woods. "I'll fill you in as we walk. It's about a quarter mile in."
As they left the roadside, the forest seemed to swallow them whole. The canopy above was largely bare, the November chill having stripped most of the trees weeks ago. What leaves remained were brown and withered, clinging stubbornly to skeletal branches. A thick carpet of fallen leaves covered the ground, making each step a crunching announcement of their presence.
"The body was found by our K-9 unit," Leery explained as they walked. "They were out here on an unrelated drug sweep of the hiking trails. Dog went off course and led them right to her." He ducked under a low-hanging branch. "She's been identified as Carla Rhodes, the very same woman who has been missing for five months."
“Is she a local?” Novak asked.
“Local enough. Her home address is listed thirty miles from here.”
The path they followed was well-worn but narrow, forcing them to walk single file. The morning sun, still low in the sky, cast long shadows through the trees that seemed to reach for them like grasping fingers. The air was heavy with the musty smell of decomposing leaves and damp earth…a smell that Rachel had always found surprisingly calming.
"The trail's popular with hikers and joggers during warmer months," Leery continued. "Gets less traffic this time of year, though. Probably why the killer chose this spot."
"Any indication how long she's been out here?" Rachel asked, noting how the deputy's shoulders tensed slightly at the question.
"Based on initial observations? No more than three days." He paused, glancing back at them. "Which is the strange part, given that Carla Rhodes has been missing for almost five months."
Rachel exchanged a look with Novak. The timeline clearly didn't add up, and in her experience, when timelines didn't add up, cases got complicated quickly. It made her feel like she and Novak were already very far behind.
The forest grew denser as they moved away from the main trail. Thorny undergrowth grabbed at their clothes, and the ground became more uneven.. Rachel caught occasional whiffs of pine and cedar mixed with the predominant scent of decay.
After about ten minutes of walking off of the trail, they came to a small clearing. Yellow crime scene tape had been strung between several trees, creating a rough perimeter. Two uniformed officers stood guard, their breaths visible in the cold morning air.
And there, in the center of the clearing, lay Carla Rhodes. Her dead eyes were looking skyward.
Rachel approached the body slowly, taking in every detail of the scene. The ground around the body was undisturbed save for the footprints of law enforcement. No drag marks, no signs of struggle. The fallen leaves around the body were undisturbed and perfect, almost as if they'd been swept back into place.
"She wasn't killed here," Rachel said, kneeling beside the body. "She was carried in and placed here with considerable care."
Carla Rhodes had been a striking woman, probably in her late twenties if Rachel had to venture a guess. Even in death, there was something elegant about her features. She wore darkjeans and a grey sweater, both clean and seemingly undamaged except for the blood around the fatal wound.
The cause of death was very clear: a gunshot wound sat precisely between her eyes – a contact wound, judging by the powder burns. The shot had been delivered at point-blank range with a steady hand. There was no hesitation mark, no sign that the killer's hand had wavered. Without even having to look, Rachel was sure there was a bloody exit wound at the back of her head.
What struck Rachel most was the positioning of the body. Carla's arms had been carefully arranged, her hands folded peacefully over her stomach as if she were merely sleeping. Her legs were straight, ankles crossed. Even her hair had been neatly smoothed away from her face.
"The killer took time with her," Rachel observed, noting how Deputy Leery moved closer to listen. "This wasn't a dump job. Every detail was considered." She gestured to the folded hands. "He still saw her as a person, not an object. That's unusual for this type of crime…unless there’s some sort of obsession element to it."
Leery nodded, pulling out a small notebook. "We found no identification on the body, but the description matched our missing persons report on Carla Rhodes. I mean, all we had to do was look at the profile pic on her Facebook profile. Or compare it to the several pictures the news programs have been using over the past five months. It’s her without a doubt.”
"There was a suicide note involved, right?" Novak asked.
"That's right," Leery confirmed, flipping through his notes. "A note that was believed to be a suicide note was found by a co-worker, but nobody. Now we find her here, freshly killed." He shook his head. "Something doesn't add up."
Rachel stood, brushing leaves from her knees. "No, it doesn't. And that gunshot wound?" She pointed to Carla's face. "Clean, precise, professional. This wasn't a random act of violence."
The sound of approaching footsteps drew their attention. The local coroner and medical examiner were making their way through the trees, the ME carrying her briefcase of equipment. More footsteps followed – crime scene technicians with their cameras and evidence collection kits.
"Well," Leery said, watching the newcomer’s approach, "one thing is for certain... she didn't do this to herself."
Rachel nodded absently, her mind already racing through possibilities. A suicide note followed by months of silence, then a carefully staged body with a professional-style execution. Nothing about this case fit any pattern she'd encountered before. She glanced over to Novak and saw that he looked baffled, too.