Precious Blood Read Free

the wall so she didn’t fall; in the heat of the lights, Jenner could feel the sweat plastering his shirt against his skin. As the ankle bolts came out, her body lurched forward, and Jenner braced her bare hip against the wall with his shoulder as Seeley struggled to control her calves.
    “Gently . . .”
    Seeley guided her legs as they moved her carefully out onto the carpet and laid her out. Garcia and Seeley stood, slightly out of breath; Jenner squatted by her body, rolling her onto her side; he could see no wounds on her back.
    He stood, still looking at the girl on the floor, then at the wall where she’d hung. He turned to Seeley. “Mike, you through with the other rooms?”
    “We took a quick look around, didn’t see anything out of place. This seems to be where the action is, Doc. But go ahead and look if you want to.”
    Jenner walked down the narrow, dark hall toward the bathroom. He poked his head into the first door, opposite the kitchen. A student’s bedroom with an unmade bed, white walls decorated with unframed pencil sketches. A half-unpacked suitcase lay on top of the small desk, the chair behind it pushed back against the radiator near the window.
    Next to the suitcase, an iPod and tangled headphones, a ring of keys, some rolling papers, and a scatter of brown seeds.
    He went on down the hall to the second bedroom, the door wide open. The hallway light was off and didn’t respond to the switch, so Jenner opened the bathroom door and turned the light on.
    He bent for a second, then gently pulled the bedroom door toward him.
    “Found something?”
    Jenner turned to Garcia and muttered, “You might want 12
    j o n at h a n h ay e s
    to tell Crime Scene that you always see more with the lights on, okay? Tell them it’s not an episode of CSI , it’s a goddamn murder scene.”
    He pointed at the frame. “The strike plate has been torn off. Look at the door near the lock; this thing has been kicked in.”
    He knelt, then turned. “Rad, ask Mike to come here with a camera, a forceps, and an evidence envelope.”
    “What have you got?”
    Jenner turned on the Maglite. “There’s a clump of hair here. It’s blond and long—not the victim’s.”
    “What do you think, the killer’s or the roommate’s?”
    “Well, it still has hair bulbs at one end, so it was torn out.
    I guess it could be the killer’s, but judging from the living room, he seemed to be really in control.” He squinted. “And this hair is bleached—the roots are much darker.”
    He turned to Rad. “I think we’re looking at a second victim.”
    Seeley’s assistant appeared at the end of the hall. “Lieutenant, the DA is here.”
    Jenner followed Garcia back to the living room. Assistant District Attorney Madeleine Silver stood between the light stands, staring down at the body.
    She shook her head and said, “Wow. That piece of shit really did a number on her . . .” She turned, nodded grimly at Garcia, then saw Jenner. She gave a soft smile and said,
    “Hey, Dr. Jenner!”
    “Ms. Silver.”
    She was of average height, early forties, curvy with feathered hair and the warmth of someone who hugged a lot, like a kindergarten teacher or elementary school counselor. Meeting her for the first time, junior defense attorneys took one look at the pearls and tennis bracelet, then dismissed her as some soccer mom treading water until her husband made partner and they moved to Scarsdale. But in the courtroom, the pearls and the gloves came off, and if the defense was foolish enough Precious Blood
    13
    to expose their neck, she’d rip out their throat and spit it onto their cap-toed Oxfords. After her first trial, when, legend had it, she’d made a rapist cry on the stand, Mike Merino from the DA’s squad had called her Mad Dog, and it had stuck; she drove a Honda minivan with a maddog license plate.
    She put a hand on his arm tenderly, looked into his face with soft brown eyes, and said, “How are you doing?”
    Jesus, did