She bit her lip. Where was the other teenager she was looking for? Had she ended up just like Ashley?
“Found her clothes!” A patrol officer shouted from approximately fifty feet away. Leaving the forensic techs to their job, Ryan jogged over to where the patrol officer was standing next to a set of clothes.
She let the photographer get a couple crime scene photos first, before she slowly worked through the discarded clothes with her gloved fingers. Pockets had been pulled out, everything ripped inside out. “He’s looking for something.”
“He?” Dane questioned.
“Could be a she, but I doubt it.” Ryan considered the severity of the crime scene. “Maybe it’s both.” Drugs were more often a weapon of choice for women, whereas men were much more physical. A knife screamed aggression, and the multiple stab wounds screamed overkill.
It was personal, but how? As far as Ryan could tell, the victim had no known enemies and no boyfriends or exes. There were few people that she was linked to that would have had this level of anger. Maybe Jasmine did, and she was part of the group going after Ashley.
“Not going to be a fun autopsy.” Dane came up next to her, his face a grimace.
“Or a fun case to solve.” Ryan let out a sigh. A murder of passion usually meant it was a specific, one-time thing, but the viciousness of the crime led her to believe he had probably killed before, and would likely kill again.
When was Amaranth going to go back to the nice, doddering old town it had once been?
“There may be a second body.” Ryan projected her voice loud enough that all could hear. “Let’s set up a search grid and comb the nearby area.”
It took nearly an hour and they started combing the nearby area on foot. There was nothing, not in Ryan’s path or anyone else’s. That created more questions than answers. Where was the second girl? Were their cases entirely unrelated?
That seemed a lot less likely than any other option. The odds of two unrelated crimes happening to connected people was extremely rare.
“We found something.” It was her radio, connecting her back to the main crime scene.
“Be there in a sec,” she radioed back. Then she and Dane hoofed it back to the main scene, thankful they weren’t wearing heavy police uniforms in the stifling forest.
“This was underneath her body.” A patrol officer held out an evidence bag.
Ryan recognized it almost immediately, and she frowned. It was a business card for the Sports bar that Ross was a bartender at, and that Veronica owned. A male/female pair? Or just a coincidence? Ross seemed genial enough. With enough evidence, she could see Veronica as a potential killer.
But neither of them had motive. The girl leaving without warning didn’t really fit a crime of this type of passion.
“I’ll go.” Ryan left the crime scene in Dane’s charge, going straight to her car and heading to the bar. The media were soon to catch onto the crime and the last thing she wanted to deal with was them, especially after the recent news conferences that had left her boiling.
If she got anywhere near a microphone like she wanted to, she wouldn’t have to wait for the Chief to fire her, she’d probably quit on the spot.
The bar was a fifteen minute drive away, with the dirt roads making for quite the bumpy ride until she made it out back onto the main roads.
The bar looked bright in the daylight, and that was another thing that made Ryan pause. How long had the body been there? Had someone dropped it off in the middle of the day? That was a risky move — unless the person had dropped the body off last night and it had just been discovered this morning.
She had her case notes in her car, and a copy of a photo of the victim was attached. She detached it from the paper clip and headed into the bar, hoping that someone was there.
And there Ross was, cleaning the counter and apparently preparing the bar to open later that night. “You’re here early,” Ryan said, catching his attention without spooking him.
“Gotta keep the bar maintained,” he said with a grin. “We’re out of a few supplies, so.”
“Is Veronica around?” Ryan kept her voice detached, but if Veronica was, she most certainly wanted to talk to her.
“I’m afraid not,” Ross said, a hint of Southerner slipping into his drawl. “She’s away on business. Something to do in the big city, or something.”
“I just wanted to know what you knew about this girl.” Ryan placed the photo on the bar and passed it over.
Curious, Ross looked at the photo. “She was here a few days ago,” he said.
“Didn’t she use to work here?” Ryan asked, flashing back to their earlier conversation.
Ross nodded. “The other girl never came back, but she did. She left with someone.” His face clouded as he thought, then it dawned on him. “Charles. She was with Charles, the day before he was arrested.”
“Thanks.” Ryan nodded, tucking the photo back into the file. “Anything else you can remember?”
Ross shook his head. “No, but I’ll let you know if there is.”
Ryan left the bar more confused than she had been when she had gotten there. Had Charles killed both the girls? That was doubtful. He was in police custody at the moment.
That is, unless he had an accomplice who had dumped the body for him. The sign of two killers bothered her more than anything else. She felt like she had some pieces of the puzzle, but was missing a corner piece
