Page 25 of Forensics of a Fable

“We’ll bag the bowl of porridge, but I think we’re looking at the same killer. Injection site to sedate. The consumption of breakfast cereal to kill,” Bel said. “Lina, do you mind smelling her skin for me?”

The M.E. looked up, puzzled by the request, but she obediently lowered her nose.

“What do you smell?” Bel asked.

“Soap,” she answered, and the detectives exchanged a look.

“This looks like the same M.O. as Drie.” Bel stepped closer to the body. “Sedated, cleansed, dressed in a nightgown, moved out into the woods, and then forced to eat the porridge. The only difference is the furniture.”

“And, oh, how it’s different,” Olivia said, squatting carefully behind the childlike chair. “These look like children’s toys,and unlike the ones at Drie’s scene, they were professionally designed.”

Bel crouched beside her partner.

“The large furniture was slapped together with basic supplies found at a hardware store, but someone skilled carved this,” she continued. “The wood has soft curves, a nice stain, and elegant craftsmanship.” She shifted to look into Bel’s eyes. “Your friend, Violet? Could her boss have made these before he died and sold them to the killer?”

“No… I don’t think so.” Bel pointed to the seatback’s ornamental carvings. “See this? While more detailed than the nailed-together chair, the engravings are rough. The uniformity is slightly off. From afar, it’s stunning, but up close, the flaws are obvious. Brett Lumen would have never crafted something this unpolished. He was famous for his exorbitantly expensive designs. Besides, I believe these are vintage. Brett was late forties when he passed, but these look older.”

“Vintage nightgowns and now children’s furniture,” Olivia said. “The killer might have already owned these, but needed to build the larger set to fit his narrative.”

“That certainly makes sense.”

“This furniture?” Gold shifted to study the small table, Jane Doe’s knees barely fitting underneath. “Do you think these are toys? Maybe vintage nursery items?”

“Possibly.” Bel brightened at that theory, thankful for any potential clues until she registered the weird expression on her partner’s face. “What?”

Olivia threw a wary glance at Lina, but the medical examiner was in her own world as she worked. “That guy? Stone? The one who owns the Reale Estate?” Bel nodded slowly. “You said he was restoring the home himself?” Bel nodded again. “This furniture is vintage. The kind you might find in an abandoned mansion that’s been in this town since its founding. What ifthese were in the mansion when he bought it, and he made the larger ones from his renovation scraps?”

“No.” Bel shook her head. “He didn’t do this.”

“But what if he did?”

Bel moved so the techs could photograph the room. “He didn’t do this.”

“How are you so sure? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“You’re jumping to conclusions,” Bel whispered. “None of the evidence points to him except for the first cabin being on his property, which is a vast estate. We can’t go around creating theories from nothing.” She’d done just that when she met Eamon, but now that she knew him, now that she cared, she couldn’t survive a reality where he was the killer. If he ever committed something this heinous, it would destroy her.

“Eamon Stone moved to town only a few months ago,” Bel continued. “I doubt a millionaire has time to track down every dilapidated cabin in these woods while attending board meetings and restoring a historical building. The fact that these bodies were hidden in hunting sheds no one remembers points to someone who knows these trails, who grew up here, or, at the very least, who enjoys distance hikes.” Eamon often ran long distances, but always in one direction.

“That’s true.” Gold paused as she considered the information. “They aren’t visible from the paths either, which means someone explored these woods. Alana Drie wasn’t from Bajka. Do you recognize this girl?”

“No, why?”

“Because if the killer lives here, maybe he can’t bring himself to kill people he grew up with, so he’s targeting girls from out of town to make the deaths easier to stomach.”

“I hadn’t considered that,” Bel said as techs dusted the small furniture for prints. “Both victims are brunettes with light eyes.Perhaps he has a type but doesn’t want to harm the object of his obsession, so he’s choosing her look alike?”

“That makes sense.” Gold processed the theory. “He cares for them in a distorted way, so what if he’s fixated on someone in Bajka, and that’s why his guilt drives him to care? Maybe it’s why he can sedate them up close and personal, but not kill them. They’re surrogates for what he really wants.”

“The question is who does he want, and what does the furniture have to do with her?” Bel asked. “Caring for their bodies is one thing, but the scenes don’t make sense. If he’s killing women similar to the object of his desire, why the theatrics of posing them like toys?”

“Perhaps it’s a message to the woman?”

Bel froze at her partner’s comment, and Gold studied her with confusion before realizing the implications of her words.

“Violet? She knows furniture.”

“It can’t be her.” Bel was suddenly afraid for her friend’s life. She should order a deputy to leave and guard her.

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