Page 46 of Dirty Valentine
She displayed an enhanced image showing faint impressions on paper.“Lab enhanced this.The number traces to a burner phone purchased two weeks ago with cash at a Walmart in Richmond.”
“Untraceable,” Cole said.“Someone who knows how to stay off the grid.”
“There’s more,” Potts continued.“I found additional blood evidence in her garage.This was inside, where her car should have been parked.”
“Could belong to her or the attacker,” I said.
“Still waiting on DNA confirmation, but the spatter pattern suggests someone was injured in her garage.Could be where the attack started before moving into the house.”
Martinez was taking notes.“Any security cameras in the area?”
“Checking on that.Most of these older neighborhoods don’t have much coverage, but there’s an intersection camera about two blocks away that might have caught something.”
Cole stretched in his chair, wincing slightly as his ribs protested.“So we’ve got Mills on the run, but we still don’t know if she’s running from someone or running because she’s guilty.”
“All solid possibilities,” I said.“But we’re missing something.The timeline doesn’t quite work.”
Potts looked up from her tablet.“How so?”
“Thomas died from cardiac arrest, but his appointment book shows he was supposed to meet someone with the initials JMH for dinner the night he died.But according to the woman at the insurance office we interviewed, she saw Victoria leaving her medical practice next door around five thirty in a hurry.Said she was loading some bags in her trunk and then she took off.”
Jack nodded, picking up the thread.“Here’s what doesn’t add up,” he said.“The neighbor at the insurance office said she saw Mills loading bags into her trunk at five thirty, looking scared.But what if Mills never made it out of town?What if someone intercepted her at her house, staged it to look like she’d fled, then used her car for Thomas’s murder?”
“That would explain the blood in the garage,” Potts said.“Someone attacks her there, forces her into her own vehicle.”
“Or into the trunk,” I added, feeling sick at the thought.
“But we also know Victoria’s vehicle was caught on camera at the gas station that night on two separate occasions.The most damning being around the time Thomas Whitman was murdered and laid out at the cemetery.”
“So by those pieces of information,” I said.“We can assume Victoria was actually the first one to be attacked.”
Jack continued.“But what we don’t know is where Thomas was taken from or where he died.All we know is someone took the time to lay him out on Bridget Ashworth’s grave and move those heavy stones.We also don’t know where Victoria would have been during that time.Was she being held somewhere?Was she already dead?Still in the trunk?”
“That would have been a crowded trunk,” Cole said.“Maybe Mercedes should think about that for a new slogan—Trunks big enough you can fit two bodies.”
“It sounds like we need to find JMH,” Martinez said.
The room fell quiet as we all considered the implications.If our killer was working through a list, we needed to figure out who else might be targeted.
“We should run those initials against everyone we’ve interviewed,” Jack said.“All the family names, current and historical.”
“Good idea,” I said.“There has to be a connection we’re missing.”
“I’ll start tonight,” Martinez said, pulling out his laptop.“DMV records, voter registration, university directories.Someone with those initials had dinner with Thomas, and they might be the last person to see him alive.”
“Check the historical society membership too,” I suggested.“Thomas was connected to all those circles.”
Potts was packing up her equipment with her usual efficiency.“I’ll have the DNA results on that garage blood evidence by tomorrow morning.Should help us figure out what happened there.”
Jack’s phone rang, cutting through the quiet of the evening.The caller ID showed dispatch, and the room went silent.
“Lawson,” he answered.His face went stone cold as he listened.“Female?What’s the condition?”A pause.“God.Yes, secure the scene.We’re on our way.”
He hung up and looked around the room.“Body dumped at Rappahannock River boat launch.Female victim, signs of violence.”
“Mills?”I asked, though my gut already knew this case was about to get worse.
“They can’t make a visual ID.The face is…” He paused, choosing his words carefully.“Damaged.”
