Page 17 of Sworn to Silence
“What are you getting at?”
“These burns are more substantial. I think the voltage or amperage of the stun gun was tampered with.”
I look at the marks and try not to shudder. Ten years ago I attended the police academy in Columbus. As part of our training, any cadet brave enough to volunteer was hit with a stun gun. Because I was curious, I volunteered. Even though the amperage was set low, it knocked me on my ass. It incapacitated me for a full minute. And it hurt like hell. I couldn’t imagine being at the mercy of some psychopath with a souped-up stunner.
“You think the stun gun is some kind of homemade job?” I ask.
“Or modified.” He nods. “Whatever the case, she was hit with it multiple times.”
I look at the scored flesh on her wrists. A quiver runs through my stomach when I see the white of bone. “What the hell did he bind her with?”
“Some type of wire. For quite some time, evidently.” He shakes his head so vigorously his jowls jiggle. “She struggled.”
Painters Mill is located in the heart of farm country. Many farmers grow and cut hay, so there’s plenty of baling wire around. Even if we identified the type, it would be impossible to trace.
The doctor lifts the sheet. “He used some type of chain on her ankles. Large links with some rust present. Judging from these bruises, he strung her up when she was still alive.”
The image my mind conjures is too horrific to contemplate. All I can think is that we’re not dealing with a human being. We’re not even dealing with an animal. Only true evil could inflict these kinds of horrors.
With the impersonal enthusiasm of the scientist he is, the doc removes the sheet completely. I mentally brace as Amanda Horner’s body comes into view. I see multiple burns and abrasions on gray flesh. I’m not squeamish, but my stomach feels jittery. I’m aware of my heart beating too fast. Saliva pooling in my mouth. I know what the doc is going to say next, and my eyes are drawn to the carving on her abdomen, above her navel.
The wound has been cleaned. The XXIII carved into her flesh is unmistakable. Realizing I’m holding my breath, I exhale.
“You need water, Kate?”
The question annoys me, but I resist the urge to snap. “Did you get photos?”
“Yes.”
My eyes go to the faint bruising on the insides of her thighs. “She was sexually assaulted?”
“There was minute vaginal tearing. Some anal tearing as well. I also found evidence of burns around the anus, probably from some type of electrical charge. I took swabs, but I don’t think there was any semen left behind.”
“What about hair or fibers?”
“No and no.”
“So he wore a condom.”
“Alubricatedcondom, actually. I found traces of glycerin and methylparaben inside her vagina and around the anus.”
I consider that. “How can a guy get close enough to rape and not leave hair behind?”
“I have two hypotheses on that.”
“Lay them on me.”
“He could have shaved his body hair. Wouldn’t be the first time a serial rapist has gone to those lengths to avoid the risk of leaving DNA behind.”
“And the second?”
“He could have raped her using some type of foreign object. I may know more when I get my swabs back from the lab.”
“So, our guy might know something about forensics and evidence.”
“Who doesn’t these days?” He shrugs. “People watchCSI. Everyone’s an expert.”
“Put a rush on the lab, will you?”
