Page 23 of Her Last Whisper
“Okay,” she said, looking back down at the body, seeing it properly for the first time. There was no avoiding what she had to do next. Silence fell. No one spoke. Even the police radios had been turned down.
Amanda’s head was turned to the right, exposing several rows of reddened marks across her pallid neck. Her dark hair partially obscured her face, arms bent close to her torso with palms down, pressing against the earth, and her legs straight close together. She looked more like a mannequin than the woman she had spoken with barely twenty-four hours ago.
Katie pulled on her gloves, hoping that no one noticed her trembling hands. She needed to focus on the small details, the same way she had done in the army when she searched specific areas for tripwires and bomb devices. Keeping her focus narrowed and thorough would help her manage the full horror of the situation unfolding in front of her.
Katie knelt close to Amanda and carefully pulled her wet hair away from her neck and face to reveal more of the marks on her throat. “It appears to be strangulation with these ligature marks on her neck—someone strangled her from behind. Whatever was used is consistent with the restraint marks you can see on her wrists and ankles. Rope or twine.” She gently picked up Amanda’s arm and studied the marks on her wrists, which were faint but distinct.
Katie moved around the body, working in a clockwise rotation.
She scrutinized Amanda’s entire body and couldn’t see any other wounds, only the pooling of blood at the bottom of her torso and the back of her legs as livor mortis set in and the slight stiffening of her arms and body indicating the early stages of rigor mortis. “Judging by the lividity, she was killed somewhere else and dumped here afterwards—this is the secondary crime scene. But what I’m not sure…” She looked at a strange mark on the side of the woman’s back, near her waistline; a long imprint with two lines going vertical.
“What is that?” asked the other detective.
“Not sure, but it could be something that she was forced up against when she was restrained. Like some type of furniture, outdoor railing, or maybe a car?”
“Forensics will get photos,” he said.
“I’m not one hundred percent sure, but it appears that these restraint marks were post mortem. The medical examiner will be able to tell,” she said.
“Why would he restrain her if she was already dead?” He took a couple of notes. “Why?”
Katie studied the marks on the body and then noticed an almost imperceptible thread wedged under her middle fingernail. She turned and said to John, “We need to bag her hands before she gets put on the gurney. I can see some foreign fibers under her nails.”
John nodded as he continued to wait until she was done with her initial scene examination.
“Good eye, Detective,” said Hamilton, but his voice still wasn’t friendly.
“Wait… there’s something else,” she said, taking her pen and cautiously prizing up Amanda’s pinky and ring finger to reveal a crumpled piece of paper curled into her fist.
“What is that?” the detective asked.
“I think it is…” she hesitated. “It looks like a business card.”
“Whose?”
Katie flattened the card and was taken aback. “Mine. I gave her my business card when I spoke with her.”
“Why would the killer do that?”
“I’m speculating, but whoever did this must know I was looking into her case. Maybe they want to send a warning?” Katie swallowed hard. Seeing her name clutched in Amanda’s lifeless hand sent chills down her spine. As if on cue, a gust of wind blew through the area causing the pines trees to sway and whisper around her.
“How would they know that you would be working this homicide?” he asked.
“I just spoke with her only yesterday and gave her my card. Maybe she kept it on her? It’s like he’s telling us he’s the one in control, that this was the way itshouldhave been,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Amanda escaped from him once, so maybe he set this all up to re-enact what should have happened if shehadn’t.”
“Posing? A recreation?”
“Something like that. It’s like he’s letting us know that he corrected a mistake, one he won’t let happen again. Interesting.”
Detective Hamilton turned his gaze to the body and seemed to be lost in thought—could he not see what she saw?
“What was the weather like early this morning? Was there any heavy mist or rain?” she asked.
“I don’t think so, it was like it is now. Overcast and cool.”
