Page 71 of Her Dying Secret

Noah looked up from his cell phone. “Both of his femurs were broken, as was his pelvic bone. Several rib fractures as well. Anya thinks the injuries might be consistent with a long fall or being struck by something, like a car, though she can’t say for sure. The fractures wouldn’t have caused his death but if he’d sustained injuries severe enough to do that much damage, then he likely had internal injuries that did lead to his death.”

Josie’s money was on some sort of injury by motor vehicle. Possibly accidental. It supported her theory that April hadn’t been a willing or enthusiastic participant in Shane Foster’s demise.

Turner popped the tab on his energy drink. “Assured mutual destruction. What else do you have, LT? ’Cause we’re running low on leads, and your little wifey over there is about to go cross-eyed staring at that drawing.”

“Turner!” Noah and Josie snapped at the same time.

Unfazed, he sucked down the entire can of Turbo Powr, crumpled the can, and belched. He tossed the can at his trash bin and missed.

Noah waited until he picked it up and threw it away before answering his question. “The botanist I told you about is downstairs. Sergeant Lamay is bringing him up. Dr. Hensley Brooks from Denton University. He says he can shed some light on the fibers found on April Carlson’s clothes.”

“That’s what you’ve got?” Turner said incredulously. “A botanist? Come on, LT. This guy is running circles around us and all we’ve got to show for it is another dead body and enough overtime to give the Chief a damn heart attack. By the way, I can’t get the smell of horseshit off my shoes.”

Josie folded her arms across her chest. Turner wasn’t entirely wrong, but they had to work with the evidence they had and right now, that evidence was plant-based. “If you’ve got a better suggestion, let’s hear it.”

Noah stood up as the stairwell door swished open again. Sergeant Lamay shuffled in, followed by a tall, distinguished black man in a navy suit. Glasses perched on his nose, and tucked under his arm was a manila envelope. He greeted them with an infectious smile, moving around the room to shake each of their hands and introduce himself. For a college professor, he was unexpectedly relaxed and informal, insisting that they call him Hensley. Noticing the photo of the fibers in question on the corkboard, he walked right over, standing at an angle as if he were in front of a lecture hall. “I brought my own photos and such.” He pulled the envelope from under his arm and handed it to Josie since she was closest. “But this is a good start.”

Josie walked over to where Noah stood near his desk. Turner joined them, watching as she pulled out a sheaf of papers. It was a report, complete with color photos and diagrams. She flipped through a few pages. Turner said, “Hey, Doc? I’m a slow reader. You think you could give me the bullet points?”

Hensley laughed and pointed to the photo on the corkboard. “I just want to start by reminding you that I wasn’t able to examine the physical specimen since it is in the custody of your lab. However, I’m ninety-nine percent sure that this is from a plant called American burnweed. It’s sometimes called fireweed, among other things. It’s part of the daisy family.”

Josie flipped back to the front page where the words Erechtites hieraciifolius were emblazoned over the top of a photo of a plant that looked very similar to a dandelion except much taller, fuller, and leafier. From the main stem, smaller networks of stems and leaves spread, each one heavy with multiple buds.

Turner said, “It’s a giant weed.”

Hensley laughed again. “It is technically an herb, but I can see why you would say that. It’s extremely fast-growing. Some people will tell you it appears overnight. It will grow as tall as eight to ten feet at times and can spread quite rapidly. Most people don’t find it attractive. It’s an annual but in some places, it has a short life and can be a perennial. Its flower is not really what people typically think of as a flower at all but a collection of what you have right here in your, uh, crime scene photo. If you look on page four, you’ll see several photos of the plant when it’s flowering.”

Josie flipped to page four. Here the photos of the plant—or herb—showed them in full bloom, except instead of petals, the flowers were made of thick white fluff. Dozens and dozens of them.

“I won’t bore you with the scientific terminology but basically those clusters of white hairs held together by seeds? The flowers? They take flight, much the same way that dandelion seeds behave. They get everywhere.”

Turner’s fingers beat out an impatient rhythm against the edge of Noah’s desk. “Doc, this is fascinating, but you might have noticed that we’re trying to find a killer. He’s got his girlfriend and kid with him. It’s a pretty dangerous situation. How does any of this help us with that?”

To his credit, Hensley’s enthusiasm was not dulled in the least. He clapped his hands together. “Lieutenant Fraley told me that these flowers were found on the body of a victim—the teacher would be my guess from having watched the news—and that before her murder she was being held somewhere. You don’t know where, is that correct?”

“Yes,” Josie said.

“I can’t tell you if she picked up the flowers where she was being held or in transport or both, but what I can tell you is that American burnweed usually grows in open areas that have recently been disturbed. Roadsides, pastures, meadows. Land recently devastated by fire or where a great deal of trees have been cut down. It blooms in the summer but with how hot the weather has been this month, I wouldn’t be surprised to see these flowering now.”

Noah said, “You’re saying that we should be looking at these kinds of areas if we want to find the place where April Carlson was kept?”

Hensley nodded. “Yes, that would be my recommendation.”

Turner said, “No disrespect, but that could be anywhere.”

Josie tried to remember if she’d seen any of these plants during her treks around the Tranquil Trails property. Even if she had, that didn’t mean that Seth had been keeping April there. Surely one of the Lees’ clients would have found them.

Noah and Josie thanked Hensley. Turner remained stone-faced and unimpressed. Once the botanist was gone, he said, “That narrows it down to almost the entire city. What else do we have?”

Josie said, “Even though April Carlson had these on her clothes and mud and grass in her stomach, for the majority of the year that Seth Lee had her, she was kept in the dark. She didn’t get sunlight. She didn’t have ligature marks, so he hadn’t tied her up. She had to have been indoors. Locked away. If he had kept her outside, surely at some point she would have tried to escape or at least drawn the attention of other people.”

“The truck,” Turner said. “He kept her in the back of the truck.”

“Too risky,” Noah said. “Someone somewhere could have heard her. I think Josie’s right. She was indoors for most of her captivity. He transported her in the truck to the produce stand. Wherever he was keeping her, that’s where Mira and Rosie are now.”

He didn’t say it but he didn’t have to—they all heard the unspoken part of that statement: if they’re still alive.

Turner let out a long, frustrated sigh. “So this botanist is full of shit, then.”

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