“It’s not her leg. Again,” Reed said.
This time, it was obvious. Kate Sutton’s body was devoid of tattoos, whereas the leg that had been left behind was inked from thigh-to-toe. The pattern matched that of the tattoos on Teri Harper’s body, although they’d faded somewhat considerably.
“It’s our second victim’s leg,” Ella confirmed. She moved closer and inspected the cuts. There was a noticeable gash across her throat and, in comparison to the other victims, a clean cut through her leg.
“Why has he slashed her throat and not strangled her this time?” Paige asked.
Reed shrugged. “You tell me. Psychology is your domain.”
“Two possibilities. Either he realized he couldn’t physically subdue Kate with his hands alone. She looks in good shape, but no more than his other victims.”
“Or?” Reed asked.
“Or the possibility we should hope for. Evolution. Progression. The fantasy of strangulation and dissection is no longer enough to appease his desires. He has to up the ante, take more risks, leave more bloodshed. I hate to say it, but that’s preferable to the former.”
“Why?” said Reed. “Why do we want this guy to be more violent?”
“Because it means he’ll make mistakes. Confidence means carelessness. Carelessness means DNA, fingerprints, hair fibers. I don’t understand this unsub’s ritual or what these legs mean to him, so right now our chances of finding him are in the hands of forensics.”
“Understood,” Reed said.
“Who found her?” asked Paige.
“Her boyfriend. He’s with a couple of officers outside.”
Boyfriend. Interesting, Ella thought. She was quickly fitting the pieces together and began to feel like that dead end wasn’t so insurmountable after all. She had a good idea how her killer found this girl, and it certainly wasn’t a random attack.
“We need to talk to him,” Ella said. She led the way back into the living room and searched for anyone not dressed in uniform. She spotted him on the lengthy balcony behind the sliding glass doors. Ella went out and Paige followed. To her satisfaction, he was alone.
“Hi, are you Kate’s partner?” Ella asked. The man was tall, handsome, chiseled. He was leaning against the balcony, eyes cried raw. The back of his t-shirt said LANCASTER BOXING CLUB.
“Yup,” he said, keeping his back to them.
“Sorry we have to meet like this. Could we ask you a few questions?”
“I guess.”
Ella got straight to the point. “Kate. Can you tell us about her? What did she do for a living?”
“Normal girl. Fitness freak. Designed websites for work. Anything else?”
Ella turned to Paige and Reed who’d both followed her outside. “Guys, could I have a minute alone with…”
“Martin,” said the boyfriend.
“Martin,” Ella finished. “Paige, I’d be grateful if you could ask forensics what they’ve found.”
Paige and Reed obliged Ella’s request. Once the doors were shut, she joined Martin near the balcony railings. They had an incredible view of the distant farmland, rural beauty stretching on indefinitely.
“Kate. She seems like a great girl. But she’s not a website designer, is she?”
Martin caught Ella’s eye then sighed. He knew that Ella knew. “What makes you say that?”
“You weren’t here last night?”
“Nope. I was at home. Got two roommates who can confirm it, so don’t even go down that road.”
“And if you weren’t here, who was?”