Page 29 of The Killer She Knew

“Okay. Victim number three, Garland, Texas.” Ford moved on to the next victim, a professional headshot taking over the screen. “Guy was a police officer for over ten years.”

Now that one was surprising. “Did he have a partner?”

“Yeah. Going on two years together,” Ford said. “Saw each other nearly every day. Knew each other’s families. Even had been in a couple shootouts together. They’d been tight, right up until the partner started noticing some changes in our vic. Things like a sudden change in rooting for Dallas Cowboys when the vic had been a lifelong Houston Texans fan and wearing contacts. After the vic’s body was recovered, partner said he’d never needed corrective lenses in his life. That was one of the first things that tipped him off.”

“Relatedness.” It was what she experienced with her team, working with the BAU. For years, she’d always been on the outside looking in. Brought in to consult but never actually partof the team. What better way to connect with someone than by sharing that danger together? Living it. Relying on someone else to help you through the hard times. It was what was happening between her and Ford now. “A common goal.”

“Last victim was from Boston. He was some kind of professional runner-slash-influencer. Ran a bunch of marathons for a living. I’m not sure how crazy you have to be to put yourself through that. Got sponsored by one of the big running brands a few years ago.” Ford brought up a snapshot of the victim’s social media. Lots of gear unboxing, photos of shoes, and coastal runs in progress with times. “Our unsub made the transition seem almost flawless on the guy’s social media. Only problem is he doesn’t show his face in any of the photos.”

“The unsub wanted attention. Probably didn’t get a whole lot in his life. So he targeted someone who did.” Leigh caught sight of Professor Morrow, a little more worn around the edges than he had been last night during their interview. Wrinkles in his clothing, his jacket looking heavy on his dropping shoulders. “But none of these victims’ deaths explain why our killer would want to assume the identity of a criminology professor with a failing career.”

Ford handed off his phone with the photo of the newspaper clippings they’d recovered from the basement. “Unless it has something to do with you.”

EIGHTEEN

Durham, New Hampshire

Sunday, September 10, 2006

9:24 a.m.

Teshia Elborne’s killer was an artist.

Leigh couldn’t describe these photos any other way. It was twisted—she was well aware—but there was something beautiful in the way the woman’s killer had cleaned and taken care of the body then almost laid her out on the ground. An offering to some forgotten god.

No wonder Professor Morrow had approached her with the opportunity to contribute to his research. She was seriously messed up.

She flipped through the next set of crime photos, a cold chill coming down from the air-conditioning vent overhead in his book-packed office. The breeze ruffled the incident report and witness statements Durham PD had already collected and filed. Not a lot of detectives would’ve handed over confidential casefiles, but Professor Morrow had his contacts. And now she did too.

“What do you make of the case?” He’d been watching her from behind his desk, those beady eyes never wavering. “Anything jump out at you?”

It didn’t make sense. Why he wanted her opinion. He was the expert. A god among men in the criminology world. She’d read all his published works. He’d recruited her from the psych program to study under him. She was nobody. A freshman with too much emotional baggage, trauma, and a thirteen-year-old brother secretly living in her dorm. Leigh moved on to the next photo, a close-up of the victim’s face.

It was hard to deny Teshia Elborne had been beautiful, even at the center of a crime scene. Blonde hair, almost the same shade as Leigh’s, spread around her in a halo highlighting chocolate eyes and full pink—well, now pale white—lips. Seductive and manipulative. With a wide smile that promised a ringing laugh and that Teshia knew her effect on people. Used it against them to get what she wanted. Leigh couldn’t help but be drawn in. Heaven help those who’d come face to face with the victim before her death. Had Dean been one of them?

“I think the killer has done this before.” While she had extensive knowledge of death investigations, this one felt… out of reach. Disconnected. She hadn’t known the victim, but she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to study the case either. Not if she wanted to apply to Concord’s police academy next year. “Teshia wasn’t his first.”

“Oh?” Professor Morrow leaned forward in his seat. “What gives you that impression?”

Her mouth dried under his attention. One wrong word and he could take his offer back. Leigh slipped her index finger between the first two pages of the report. One name stood out among all the others in the witness list. Dean Groves. The lastperson to see Teshia Elborne alive. She put that small detail aside for now.

“According to the medical examiner, the killer washed and bleached the body before depositing her at the scene. He knew to clean under her fingernails and ensured not to leave any prints or fibers on her clothing. That kind of discipline is honed over a long period of time and with practice.”

“Very good.” Professor Morrow made a note on the legal pad. Was he really taking her suggestion or was this some kind of blind test? “Durham PD hasn’t made that assessment. So we’ll want to look into past histories of violence when suspects are inevitably identified. What else do you see? What of the victim? Why was she targeted?”

It took everything inside of her not to straighten under his praise. It would be easy to chase the high, but Leigh took another look at the case file in her lap. Upwards of seventy percent of murdered women were killed by someone they knew, half of them by a partner. Chances were Teshia Elborne’s death hadn’t been random. And with police looking to question Dean, she had to assume they’d been close. Possibly a couple.

“Witness statements tell us she was well-liked. Academic transcripts and records show she was involved in a number of social organizations over the years and did well in her classes. I think that got the killer’s attention, but it wasn’t the most important detail for him. She was… popular, held a lot of power. But not over her killer.”

“Perhaps her killer was jealous of all that power. Wanted it for himself.” Professor Morrow made another note, his pen nearly cutting through the thin yellow lined paper. “Or she tried to use her power on him and failed.”

“No. I don’t think this was a crime of passion. The mode of operation tells me the killer is calculated. He doesn’t make a single move without considering all the options available.Based on his high level of intelligence and preparation, I would say he viewed Teshia Elborne more as a tool than a person. He was more than likely using her for something specific.” Leigh couldn’t take her eyes off the witness statement that’d slid free from the stack. One provided by Dean Groves. The text blurred the harder she tried to make sense of his words. Relationship. Two years. Cheated. Confrontation. Her lungs shoved every molecule of air free from her chest. The man she’d started falling in love with wasn’t just the last person to see the victim alive. He’d been betrayed by her. “And then he wasn’t.”

Durham, New Hampshire

Thursday, October 10

7:03 a.m.

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