“But the women in Corinth and Earle. Same age, same race, not raped—”
“Don’t hate me when I say this, but this is what I do for a living and I’m going to tell you straight. A lot of young black women get murdered in this country. It’s a damn shame and it makes me sick inside, but they do. It’s my job to make it stop, and I can’t. That makes me sick inside, too.”
He quit talking and his gaze dropped to his hands, one on each thigh. He looked like he wanted to be doing something useful with them.
He finally looked at her again, catching her eye as if wanting to be sure she heard and understood. “How can I say this to you? You look at a cluster of murders of young black women and see a pattern that maybe takes in Mississippi and Arkansas. I look at the same thing and I see a pattern that takes in the whole country. You want to believe there’s one killer, because that means we can find him and make it stop. I just wish that were true.”
“But the ones in Mississippi and Arkansas showed an obsession with burial—”
“Two or three killers got their shit together well enough to dig a good grave, instead of dumping their victim in a ditch. Big deal.”
“It’s a coincidence that they were all found in July?”
“One out of twelve murdered women, or something like that, get buried in July. Actually, more, because murders peak in the summertime”
“Are they usually raped? Robbed?”
“No, not always. I just don’t see a pattern that says ‘serial killer.’ I know you want me to, but I don’t.”
He flicked his eyes her way in what she thought might possibly be a hint of apology. But she also saw the look of a man who was confident in his experience and proud of it.
“You’re the expert,” she said, because it was true, but not because it made him right.
“Well, you’re the expert in bones that have been buried for a long time. How long do you think this body’s been in the ground? You said 2010 or thereabouts before. Now that you’ve seen the bones, does that opinion still stand?”
“Based on the condition of the body and the look of the soil? In addition to the activity I saw on those old aerial photos? I’d say five years, give or take a few years, so yeah. There’s nothing here to change the opinion I gave you before.”
The eyes finally flicked her way and they were frustrated.
“It’s not an exact science,” she said. “I’m sorry. Your forensics lab may be able to narrow that date range down.”
“I’ve got people searching our missing persons data to try to figure out who the victim was. I’ll tell them to pay close attention to that time window. So by your logic, I should be looking at missing persons from 2010 all the way up to now, since this supposed serial killer has been active for five years, seven years, maybe more?”
“I sure hope not.”
He looked around them, at the open woodland and the thicket beyond. “Well, this isn’t a bad place to hide a body. There could be others out there. Maybe the same killer put ’em there. Maybe not. Either way, I need to search this whole end of the park. How would you do that?”
“Dr. Broome probably has ideas. It’s her project.”
“I asked you.”
Now he definitely was not making eye contact. He was watching his own forensic archaeologist, whose professional judgment he was clearly beginning to doubt.
“Ground penetrating radar comes immediately to mind. LIDAR—that’s short for light detection and ranging—is great if you’ve got the budget for somebody to fly around in an airplane.”
“If you’re right that there’s a serial killer crossing state lines, it’ll be the FBI’s budget. They can afford whatever they want to afford. Until then, I’m not sure how much money I can pry out of the department. And if I’m going to lose jurisdiction on this case, I’m not sure I have the time to drag in the fancy equipment beforehand.”
“What about drones? They’re cheap. Put a camera on one and you can see a lot. You can still do the GPR and LIDAR later, but drones give you quick-and-dirty information. You don’t have to wait for someone to come out and operate them, because you can do it yourself. And you don’t have to wait for them to interpret the data, either. The best thing? You can get a drone at the toy store, if you have to.”
“A toy store. Get out.” Now he was laughing. “The department probably has something I can use. If they don’t, I’ll go to the toy store.” He stacked up the historical photos they’d been studying. “You don’t seem to have any right-this-minute aerial photos. If drones are so great for checking out a big piece of land, how come you’re not using one?”
“Tennessee state law includes requirements for hiring somebody with the right insurance and such. But there’s a clause in the law that specifically says it’s okay to take a picture with a drone for law enforcement purposes. That’s you.”
He slapped both thighs and laughed. “Yes. It is.”
“My crew is cooped up in a motel room, eating bologna sandwiches and watching movies. If you want to make that up to me, you’ll give me a copy of that drone footage so I can use it for my project.”
“You’ve got a deal.”
Ayesha, Richard, Davion, Stephanie, Yvonna, and Jeremiah stood in the motel lobby looking expectantly at Faye. They were all so young and innocent, even Jeremiah, who obviously considered himself far older and more worldly than the rest. Since she’d last seen them, they had watched a movie together and eaten sandwiches and nobody had, to her knowledge, gotten drunk or misbehaved. From a managerial standpoint, today was a much better day than yesterday.
“I’m going to Frida’s funeral and
