Killer Ambition - [28]

“And did you stay here after you found it?” Bailey asked.

She was making sure the scene hadn’t been contaminated-at least since Bander had found the car.

“Yeah. I called you right away and had the area cordoned off, just like you said. I’m the only one who’s been this close to the car since I saw it.”

Bailey looked around the lot. “How long since you called for a criminalist?” she asked me.

“About thirty minutes.”

“Did you try the doors?” she asked Officer Bander.

“No.”

Bailey bent down and shined the flashlight under the car. I was about to move in closer and join her, but just then, a beat-up Cadillac pulled up close to the tape. The driver rolled his belly out first, and when he approached us, I recognized the ruddy complexion, heavy cheeks, and small blue eyes of criminalist Ben Glosky. Bailey and I had him on a previous case involving a pedophile who’d done us all the favor of shuffling off this mortal coil. Ben wasn’t Dorian, but he was pretty good.

Ben flashed his ID and struggled under the tape. “Dorian said to tell you she’ll be here in a few and not to pull the same crap you usually do. She also figured you’d need someone who could unlock the doors without damaging anything.”

“You’re a locksmith?” I asked.

“Before I joined SID.”

I guess it shouldn’t have been such a surprise. It’s not like he’d said he used to train poodles for TV commercials.

Ben gloved up, put on the regulation shower cap-though the few hairs slicked back on his head were unlikely to go anywhere-and slipped his shoes into booties. Then he took a small metal case out of his car and set it on the ground next to the driver’s side door. Bailey held the flashlight for him as he examined the interior through the driver’s side window. Ben took the flashlight from her and walked around the car, studying every inch. Bailey moved with him and pointed out various spots on the car. Then he crouched and shined the light under the car, as Bailey had done. He went back to his kit and took out a packet of sterile swatches, distilled water, an eyedropper, and long tweezers. Slowly, he moved around the car, lifting samples as he went.

When he was done, he handed the flashlight back to Bailey and motioned for her to follow him over to the driver’s side. Bailey stood behind him, blocking my view, so I couldn’t see what he did from where I was standing, but two seconds later the driver’s door was open. One second later, the trunk flew open.

And there, lying in a pool of blood, was Hayley.

15

As many bodies as I’ve seen, as many crime scenes as I’ve visited, after a while, you get to be immune. But the sight of Hayley Antonovich curled up in a fetal position in that trunk hit me like a lead-handed punch to the head. Tears filled my eyes and my throat tightened with sadness and disbelief. I quickly turned away and blinked until my eyes cleared. Crying at a crime scene was unthinkable.

When I turned back, I saw an ashen-faced Bailey watching me carefully. “You okay, Knight?”

I nodded, but didn’t speak. I didn’t trust my voice.

Bailey pulled out her cell, no doubt to call the coroner. When she’d finished the call, she ordered everyone to move farther back from the tape, then she came to stand next to me. I could feel her still watching me with a look of concern. If Bailey saw it, others would too. I needed to get a grip. So I swallowed hard and blocked the sight of Hayley from my mind.

“Did he buy those two tickets to New York just to throw us off?” I asked. “Or do you think he’s working with someone else?”

“I was wondering the same thing. But he bought the tickets using his real name, so if he was trying to throw us off, wouldn’t he use the one he’d made public out here?”

“Or maybe he was sharp enough to know we’d figure out he was using an alias and he used his real name to buy the tickets-make it look more genuine.”

“That’s pretty smart for a nineteen-year-old kid,” Bailey said.

“And pretty tangled,” I agreed. “But not impossible.”

Bailey sighed. “What is?”

We both fell silent, trying to manage the pain of the unwanted discovery. I’d been so optimistic. Too optimistic. That wasn’t my style. But this wasn’t the time or the place to figure it out. Bailey would ordinarily be the one to make the notification to the family, but since I was in from the jump on this one, I thought I should probably go with her.

“Brian doesn’t know we’ve found her already.” I glanced at my cell phone. It was five fifteen a.m.-eight fifteen in New York. “In about half an hour, I’m going to try reaching the aunt again. When I do, I’m going to tell her we’re looking for Brian and Hayley.”

“So she won’t try to cover for him if he’s been in touch?” Bailey set her jaw and looked back at the trunk. “It’s not a bad idea. But it’s a now-or-never move. Once we make notification to Hayley’s parents, the news’ll go global.”

Bailey looked at the ground and sighed. I knew she was dreading it. So was I. The coroner’s wagon pulled up and a guy in high-water pants and a nylon Coroner’s Office jacket jumped out.

It was Scott Ferrier, the coroner’s investigator who was my longtime “friend with benefits.” The benefits in our case being his willingness to slip me reports on the sly in return for free lunches at his favorite restaurant, Engine Co. No. 28.