Captain Blackford shook his head, but then turned to point into a dusty corner of the warehouse. It was dark in here, even with the light streaming through the windows and the lights the police had set up. The shadows behind the light rigs were thick. “There’s a crane truck with a basket that was left here by the previous owners,” he said. “Gassed up, even though it shouldn’t have been. Wires have been damaged, got it running again. He used that, we think. Lifted himself up there. Could have used it to move her, too, but we don’t think so. The dust on the floor has already covered some of the truck’s tracks.”
Laura followed his pointing finger down to the ground, to an area that looked somewhat scuffed compared to the rest. But he was right. It wasn’t totally clear. Dust had fallen again since the rope and platform had been set up.
There wasn’t much more to see here. But Laura was curi
ous about one thing: what the physical evidence left behind on the victims would tell them.
“Where’s the body?” Laura asked.
“Coroner,” Captain Blackford grunted.
Laura held back on the urge to roll her eyes. “I mean, where is that?” she asked. “We’ve only just got into town, came here straight from the airport. We’ll need directions, or at least an address.”
“I’ll take you there myself,” Blackford said, straightening up slightly. “You two got a car yet?”
Laura nodded. “Rental. You can drive with us. I’d like to ask some questions about the first victim as we go.” She turned towards the stairs, expecting him to follow her. It was only when she looked back with a raised eyebrow that he started to.
Laura was already starting to get a certain feeling from Captain Blackford, one she’d felt before. Although many officials on the ground were glad to get the help of the FBI, sometimes they would come into a case where it was felt as if they were stepping on toes. Taking over in an area where the locals already felt they would have been capable alone.
Though he’d been ostensibly polite enough, answering all her questions, Laura could sense that Captain Blackford was not happy with their presence here. That he resented being told what to do by someone who was outside of his own agency. Someone who, for all intents and purposes, outranked him in this case.
Being a Captain, he probably wasn’t used to being pushed around so much anymore. But it must have been his superiors who’d decided to call in the FBI.
And now he was going to take that out on Laura and Nate.
Fabulous.
So long as he cooperated fully, Laura could take a little attitude, though.
Nate pulled away from conversing with a forensic photographer as Laura approached, nodding his goodbye. He held out a hand towards Captain Blackford, who only gave a moment of sullen hesitation before shaking it.
“Agent Lavoie, I’m given to understand,” Blackford said.
“Call me Nate,” Nate said, giving him that wide-toothed grin he often used when he needed to disarm someone. So, it wasn’t just Laura who had picked up on the mood.
“Alright, then,” Blackford said, gesturing towards the door, but declining the obvious move of using Nate’s first name right away. “We’re to head out to the coroner in your car, so I’m told.”
Nate did a good job of not batting an eyelid. Laura let her fingers curl tightly into a fist by her side, where she was turned slightly away from the Captain, so he couldn’t see it. Letting him bother them, and letting him know he’d bothered them, right out of the gate was not a good way to keep control of this relationship. It would give him a license to print money, as far as antagonizing them went.
“Let’s go,” Laura said, cocking her head towards the door. She led the way without hesitation, knowing as she always did that Nate had her back.
Well, usually always. The last couple of weeks had been tough.
But he was back on her side now, she knew.
They headed into the car, Blackford pointedly taking the passenger seat so that he at least wasn’t relegated to sitting in the back. He stretched out long legs in front of him, setting the seat back a couple of notches. Nate got into the back seat behind Laura without any comment, taking it mildly. He was good at that. Choosing his battles.
“So, what can you tell us about the first victim?” Laura asked, starting up the car and beginning to pull out of the weed-strewn lot.
“Another woman,” he said. “You got the victim profile in your briefing notes?”
Laura nodded, and Nate spoke up from the backseat where he had the notes beside him. “We looked them over on the journey here. From what we understand, we’re dealing with a couple of women, both in their mid-thirties and local to the Atlanta area. Beyond that, the similarities seem to end – one blonde, one brunette, no correlation in height or weight, working in different industries. Have you found any connections between them?”
“Not yet,” Blackford grunted. “It’s early days.”
“And the crime scene?” Laura prompted. She wanted to hear it from him. If he was determined to make it difficult, that was fine. She still had a job to do. She still needed to know.
“It was a boarded-up old gas station out on the outskirts of the city,” Blackford said. He was reclining almost lazily in his seat, one hand tilted up against the window, almost like he was pointing to the roof. A casual position, as if to tell them that he wasn’t at all intimidated by their presence. “No one around. It’s a whole abandoned area, just like this one. There’s supposedly a security guard, but they don’t patrol, and it turns out the cameras weren’t working on the stretch covering the road and the gas station itself.”