Page 10 of So Hollow

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Faith said. “It’s very difficult to understand how far people will go to hurt other people.”For some of us, anyway.

Brower sighed. “Well, if you need anything else, my phone’s always on. Otherwise, I wish you three luck.”

“Thank you,” Faith replied. She had a feeling they would need it.

CHAPTER FOUR

Detective Hilary was waiting for the agents in the lobby of their hotel early the next morning. He was a middle-aged man with close-cropped gray hair and a well-trimmed mustache. He was the same height and roughly the same weight as Michael, though possibly a little softer around the middle.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” he said. “My mother’s health is very poor right now. I had to rush her to the hospital for emergency surgery last night.”

Faith felt a stab of guilt at her cynical assumption that Hilary was pouting over the FBI’s involvement in the case. “I’m sorry to hear that. Are you sure you can work with us today? It’s all right if you need to be with her.”

He shook his head. “Thank you, but she’s all right for now. My sister’s staying with her today. Besides, I would very much like for this freak to be found sooner rather than later. I’m not interested in dealing with the next Franklin West in my city.”

Faith stiffened slightly and hoped that Hilary didn’t notice. She really hoped that West wouldn’t become the standard by which all killers were measured from now on. Jethro Trammell’s short-lived tenure at that spot had produced Franklin West. She shuddered to think what kind of killer West might inspire.

This is your fault, Bold.

She pushed the image from her mind and asked, “Can you take us to Samantha Reynard’s apartment?”

“Sure can. It’s actually not far from here. She lived in one of the newer high-rises downtown.”

The four of them took Hilary’s cruiser to the building. It was a twelve-story building of modern construction nestled among several similar buildings within a mile of the much taller officebuildings that dominated the second-most impressive skyline in the United States.

“She lived on the top floor in the loft apartment,” Hilary said, flashing his badge at the security officer and leading them to the elevator. “The body’s been taken, of course, but we’ve left the scene intact. CSI took a small sample of the white powder that was scattered over her body, but otherwise, the room is as it was when we arrived yesterday morning.”

“Who called it in?” Michael asked.

“Building super. He showed up for an annual maintenance inspection and found the door ajar. He pushed it open and saw Samantha’s legs sticking out. He said it was clear that she was naked, and when she didn’t answer to her name, he called the police. Never went in the room. Said he didn’t want people to think he was the one.”

“Does he have an alibi for the night before?” Faith asked.

“Well, security cameras showed him leaving the building at seven the night before he found her. Coroner estimates time of death for Samantha between seven and nine.”

“Got it. And nothing on the security footage that seems suspicious.”

“No, but the footage isn’t perfect. We’re thinking the guy got in through the fire escape outside her window.”

They reached the room, and Hilary led them inside. Turk immediately put his nose to the ground and trotted around, probably looking for whatever smell caught his attention the night before.

The room was modestly but tastefully furnished. The furniture was inexpensive but good quality and arranged so that there were no right angles to be seen. The living room was dominated by a large neoprene mat in place of a rug. There was no coffee table and no television. Samantha clearly took her yoga lifestyle seriously.

The mat was covered in tape outlining the position of Samantha Reynard’s body. A larger outline delineated the extent of the white powder found with her body. Faith bent low and sifted a little of the powder in between her fingers. The texture was reminiscent of baby powder. Some sort of talcum or clay?

“Did Samantha have a boyfriend?” Michael asked.

“She did. Giacomo Medici.”

“Cool name.”

“Samantha thought so, I guess. He was out of town at a jiu-jitsu tournament. He’s on his way back now. Would’ve been back yesterday, but they delayed his flight because of some storm in Brazil. Obviously, his alibi’s ironclad.”

Faith walked around the tape. The powder sat in small drifts separated by the outline of Samantha’s body. “The body was posed first, then the powder was sprinkled over her.”

Hilary nodded. “It looks like the powder was the last thing the perp did.”

“He probably wanted to avoid leaving footprints and fingerprints,” Michael suggested.

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