Page 9 of Shadow Angel
“Nope and we follow procedure to the letter here, Beth. I don’t figure anyone needs our help right now, and we won’t be able to breathe in there. We’ll go round back.” Styles waved her toward the back of the house. “If the front door is unlocked, the back one will be as well. I’ll open it. If we hear anything, I’ll go high, you go low.”
Beth nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”
They headed to the back of the cabin. The stench of decomposition oozed through the cracks between the dilapidated logs and hung there in a wall of nasty. Beth coughed and could taste death in the back of her throat. “How many bodies do you figure are in there?”
“Oh, man, it stinks on ice but one can smell that bad.” Styles stopped alongside the house and, walking to the shade of a nearby tree, removed his Stetson and hung it on a branch along with his coat. “If you’re wearing anything you want to keep. I suggest shucking it now. That stink never washes out and I’m not sacrificing my hat or good coat for what might be a dead animal.”
Beth nodded and tossed her coat over a branch. The wind chilled her warm skin as she gathered up her long hair and tucked it inside a woolen cap. She recalled trying to get the stink from her hair once before. Death odors had a way of sticking like gum. “Okay, let’s do this.”
She followed Styles to the back of the house and stood to one side as he opened the back door, pushing it wide. They blinked into the dim interior. The door opened up to a dusty litter-strewn kitchen and she could see through an open door and along a hallway straight into the family room. Startled by a figure reclining on a sofa, she jumped back and pressed her back to the wall. “I see someone.”
“Yeah, me too.” Styles pulled out a flashlight and aimed through the doorway. He held one hand up to her. “Ah, there’s a dead woman in there, posed on a sofa.” He pulled the door shut and frowned. “It’s nasty.”
Frowning, Beth took the flashlight from him. “I need to see, Styles.”
Pushing the door open, she moved the flashlight beam over the corpse. Sickened and shocked to the core when a smiling face with wide open eyes stared back at her, she fumbled the flashlight. The scene was impossible. No one retained an expression like that when they died. Heavy makeup covered the face. Cherry-red lips smiled a gruesome welcome, and bright blue eyeshadow highlighted her staring eyes. The long dark hair was fashioned around the face and moved eerily in the breeze from the front door. The dead woman sat with her arms along the back of the dilapidated sofa in a lewd pose. The killer had created the scene to shock and it had hit its mark. Her stomach clenched and she swallowed hard trying not to spew. “Well, she’s obviously dead. I figure we stay outside to avoid contaminating evidence.” She pulled the door shut and coughed. “What do you say?”
“My thoughts exactly. Get your coat on, you’re turning blue. You won’t have stink on you.” Styles walked slowly back to the pile of clothes and shrugged into his coat. He pulled out his phone. “I’ll call it in to Ryder.” He made the call. After a time explaining and giving coordinates, he sighed. “There’s nothing you can do, Cash. Just call the ME and get him out here.”
“Do you figure it’s Cassie Burnham?”Ryder cleared his throat.“Can you make out what happened to her?”
“I don’t know if it’s Cassie. She’s kinda messed up.” Styles dusted off his hat by slapping it against his thigh. “We decided to remain outside. We didn’t want to contaminate the crime scene but we’ll leave the front door open to clear out the stink.”
“Okay. She is dead, right? You sure?”Ryder’s chair squeaked and Beth could imagine him getting to his feet.“You don’t need me to send the paramedics?”
Staring at Styles, Beth raised both eyebrows. She leaned closer to him. “Hi, Cash, Beth here. She’s very dead. The smell is real bad and it’s a gruesome crime scene, so you’ll need to prepare yourself. It’s one of those murders you’ll never forget. Bring masks and plenty of gloves. If you’re coming with Dr. Wolfe, you might need to wear an old uniform. The stink of a body this ripe tends to hang around some and you’ll need to burn your clothes unless you have forensic coveralls.”
“Yeah, Dr. Wolfe advised me to order some after the last case. I’ll bring some for you too but they’re all my size. They might swamp you.”
Impressed Beth nodded. “That would be great. Thanks. We’ll trade. We have a ton of them back at the office.”
“I’m sending you the coordinates now.” Styles took the phone off speaker and pressed it to his ear. “Call Wolfe now. It will take him an hour to get here. You’ll need to meet him at the hospital helipad. He won’t have access to the roof at the FBI building. We’ll scout around and search the area for evidence.” He waited a beat and then disconnected. “We’ll take the bird up and see if we can make out a track leading to anywhere. On foot and level to the ground, all we’ll be able to see is grass.”
Excitement shivered through Beth at the thought of meeting Dr. Shane Wolfe again. The last time, the man who resembled a Viking marauder—tall, white-blond hair with gray eyes—had looked straight through her as if he had X-ray vision. He had the experience to analyze a murder scene on the fly and no wonder. He worked alongside one of the best teams in Montana: Sheriff Jenna Alton and her husband, Deputy David Kane, along with a team of highly trained professionals, lived in Black Rock Falls. In recent years the expanding town had come to be known as Serial Killer Central. Beth had been drawn to a case there and, heavily disguised as the Tarot Killer, had gotten involved. It had taken all her skill to complete her task and then vanish into thin air. She’d left the sheriff scratching her head, but Jenna Alton would never have been able to stop the man who murdered for profit. He’d have killed again and then vanished if Beth hadn’t stopped him. She smiled to herself. Wolfe made a worthy adversary and keeping one step ahead of him would ensure she remained at the top of her game.
“What are you smiling at?” Styles gave her an inquisitive stare as he climbed into the chopper. “After looking inside that cabin, I’m finding it hard to keep down my breakfast.”
Shaking her head, Beth shrugged and grabbed at anything for an excuse. “Oh, nothing. I was just thinking how Bear would have loved to tear around in this long grass. It’s miles of wide-open spaces here. Dogs love to run, don’t they?” She climbed in beside him and shrugged. “I don’t dwell on scenes like that. I try to think about something nice. There’ll be time to worry about it once Wolfe arrives.” She smiled at him. “How about you take our minds away from the crimes scene and tell me your inappropriate-behavior story. I’m intrigued.”
“Okay, but first put these on.” Styles handed her a set of headphones. “It’s not something I’m proud to admit to, but at the time, my brother and I could see the funny side of it. I was still a kid, sixteen or so, and attended the funeral of a very beloved great-aunt with my brother. We stood to the back of a large crowd of mourners. It was held in California and in the graveyard was a bunch of pineapple palms. They look like giant pineapples.” He stared at her.
Beth nodded. “Yeah, I know what they are, so why were they so funny?”
“During the service, my brother leaned toward me all serious and pointed to the trees. He said, “Bodies must make dang good fertilizer if the size of them pineapples is any indication. Now, I know how old Mr. Digby wins the pumpkin competition each year. He must have bodies buried all over.” Styles grinned at her. “We broke up laughing… well snorting and covering our faces.”
Surprised he’d told her, she smiled. “I’d have laughed too. Did you get into trouble with your folks?”
“Nope, they thought we were sobbing.” He shrugged. “I still feel guilty about it. I loved my aunt.”
Fastening her seatbelt, Beth glanced at him. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. Your aunt was probably looking down on you and laughing with you. I’d hate people to cry at my funeral. Not that I have anyone who’d attend.”
“God forbid something might happen to you, but I’d be there.” He flicked her a glance. “You have my word.”
Taken aback, Beth stared at him. “Really? Thank you so much.”
There he goes again, making me like him. He’s always ready to fight and bends the rules, but he never crosses the line, like I do. I need to be more like him. I hate to admit it, but he’s becoming my hero. I’d love to come clean and tell him about the real me. Maybe one day, when he gets to know how I tick, he’ll understand I’m here to put things right.The phone in her pocket vibrated, breaking her thoughts, and she pulled it out and opened the message. “It’s from Ryder. He forgot to mention he released the men. They can’t be held for Cassie Burnham’s murder, if that is her in the cabin, because they were all working on Friday night.”
“They should have been held for attacking you.” Styles took the chopper straight up and then began a low sweep of the immediate area.
