Say You Love Me Read Free

least he left her inside the cabin,” Skeeter Jones, the head CSI officer, murmured.
    Yeah, or the gators would have fed on her already. Then no one would ever have found her.
    The medical examiner, Dr. Leland Charles, leaned over to examine the body. “The chest wound looks bad. A wide blade, lots of bruising. Looks as if he twisted it. He wanted her to suffer. Her coloring is pale with a yellowish tint.”
    â€œWe’ll check and track down where he got the lancet.” Jean-Paul stooped to study the spear. “They sell them in the gift shops in town.”
    â€œHell, a man could have his pick of murder weapons from the street vendors,” Charles muttered.
    â€œSo, what was the cause of death?” Jean-Paul asked.
    â€œThere are no ligature marks on her neck so I’d rule out asphyxiation. She might have bled out from the chest wound, but I want to check the tox screens.” Charles noted more bruises on her body—her ribs, abdomen, thighs. “She did fight back,” he murmured, “as much as she could in her position.”
    Jean-Paul wondered if she had agreed to the bondage, then changed her mind later. Or she could have been unconscious when the perp tied her up. “I want the cause of death as soon as you finish with her. And make sure to send me the result of the full tox screen and rape kit. We need to determine if the sex was consensual.”
    Charles nodded, then dabbed a Q-tip across the woman’s abdomen and bagged it. “It looks like he rubbed some kind of oil on her body. Maybe one of those love potions or sensual oils they sell in the market.”
    Jean-Paul scanned the room for a bottle. “So our guy uses massage oil as if he wants the woman to enjoy sex, then kills her? I don’t get it. Maybe he was conflicted?”
    Charles muttered a curse. “Figure out what makes this one tick and you’ll catch him.”
    â€œMaybe the night started out with romance, then things got rough.”
    â€œAnd something she said or did triggered the man to snap and he killed her,” Charles added.
    Jean-Paul shook his head, not buying it. The scene seemed too posed. Too planned. “No. The serpent necklace and lancet indicate he came prepared.” And what the hell did the mask of that crocodile head mean?
    A tech motioned toward the medical examiner and Jean-Paul narrowed his eyes. “Did you find something?”
    She shrugged. “Boombox is still warm. Found a CD in it called ‘Heartache Blues.’”
    â€œSymbolic or what?” Dr. Charles commented.
    â€œShe ripped out his heart, so he did the same to her.” Jean-Paul made a sound with his mouth. “Could be his motivation.”
    â€œCheck out the artist,” the tech said. “Some newbie named Randy Swain. I saw a write-up about him in the paper. He’s here for the music festival.”
    Along with a thousand others. All strangers, which made their investigation more difficult. “Of course.” Jean-Paul made a note to question the singer Randy Swain. And to question a couple of guys who made masks and sold them in the market.
    The woman bagged the CD, dusted the boombox, then tagged both items for evidence.
    â€œAnyone find the girl’s identification?” he asked.
    One of the CSI techs shook his head. “Not so far.”
    â€œWhere are her clothes?”
    â€œWe didn’t find them, either,” the CSI tech replied. “No clothes. No condom. Nothing personal. Not a toothbrush, comb or even a pair of underwear.”
    â€œThis guy knows what he’s doing,” Jean-Paul said. “He’s meticulous. He cleaned up. Didn’t leave any trace evidence.”
    â€œThere’s usually something—a hair fiber, an errant button, thread off a jacket,” the female crime scene investigator said. “If there is, we’ll find it.”
    Jean-Paul nodded and studied the victim’s face again.