“What else do you see?” he asked.
“Her lipstick was put on before she was killed. I think she was getting ready to go somewhere. Although some women put on makeup in the morning, it’s usually light. This isn’t. She’s wearing foundation, liner, blush, mascara... she even shaped her eyebrows. Her lipstick is dark and applied very carefully. Then there are the shoes. Dressy heels. Earrings and a necklace. She was probably going somewhere last night. Look for events in the area. Or maybe she was meeting someone for dinner. I doubt she knew him... or her... well.” She frowned. “The blue ribbon in her hair?”
He nodded.
“I think the murderer added it too. It just doesn’t fit withher makeup, her shoes, or even her hair. It looks forced.” She nodded. “I believe he’s responsible for the ribbon, as well as the dress.”
“Okay. So why do you think that if she was meeting someone, she didn’t know them very well? ”
“Just guessing,” Erin said, “but if you haven’t gotten a call from someone reporting her missing, that means anyone she was meeting didn’t know her very well. If he—or she—had... they would be concerned about her whereabouts by now. They probably would have contacted you. Were there any special events happening in the area last night?”
Adrian thought for a moment. “Most of the nearby events are over by the end of October. It picks up again in December. The only thing I can think of is Grits and Grains. It’s in Townsend, about twenty miles from here, but it’s really popular.”
Erin frowned at him. “She doesn’t look like someone who would go to something called Grits and Grains.”
“You may be pretty perceptive about most things, but you’re reading this wrong. They feature gourmet foods and fancy drinks. Sounds like it might be right up this gal’s alley.”
Erin shrugged. “Sorry. Hard to tell from the title.”
“Some things aren’t that easy to judge. Along with some people.”
Erin paused and seemed to be taking stock of him. Her green eyes locked on his. It made him nervous.
She frowned. “Do you get many visitors in the fall?”
He nodded. “A lot of people come here to see the leaves turn.”
“But it’s pretty cold.”
“We’re usually in the thirties at night. Close to forty. This cold snap is a little unusual, but it happens.”
Erin was silent for a moment. “It’s November,” she said. “The leaves start changing in October. My guess is that she was probably getting ready to go home. Maybe after the event you mentioned. Look for someone renting a place or a room whose reservation is almost up.” She pointed at the object the woman held in her hands. “Did you notice this?”
“Sure. This is why I came to you. I’ve never seen anything like it before. An angel statue with what looks like red tears falling from its eyes. Looks like whoever painted it wasn’t skilled at it.” A long line of paint dribbled down the front of the angel.
Erin stood, and Adrian did the same. She stepped closer to him. He could smell her hair. What was that scent? Peaches?
“The angel is a spiritual symbol. Like the dress. It’s the killer’s signature. The angel is crying. Your UNSUB may be saying that this woman offends him for some kind of spiritual reason. Maybe he thinks her lifestyle makes the angels cry. Or he’s trying to make them cry by his actions. I can’t be sure of that. There’s no way to know what it is that offends him until he kills again and then you should be able to see the connection. And the sloppiness? That’s the problem, Chief. This is why I believe you’re dealing with a serial killer. I don’t think the person who painted this angel made a mistake. In fact, I think he’s very, very careful. Extremely organized.” She looked around her at the officers and Gibson who would have steam coming from his ears if it were possible. She took a step even closer to him. She clearly didn’t want to be overheard. “That isn’t a slip-up. It’s a number. The number one.”
Adrian felt as if all the blood in his body had suddenly frozen solid.
SEVEN
Kaely was relieved to hear the captain announce that they were getting ready to land. She wasn’t a fan of flying. She’d heard the statistics, how much safer flying was than driving. But the problem wasn’t the flying part. The problem was the falling part.
She fastened her seat belt and prayed that this was the right thing to do. She’d felt led to reach out to Erin. She knew a lot about trauma. God had healed her of so much, and now she wanted to help Erin. They’d become close while working on her book, but would their online relationship endure in person? She wasn’t sure. But one thing she did know. If God put this together, He would see it through. She reminded herself of His faithfulness and that He loved Erin even more than Kaely did. She whispered a prayer of consecration.
“Do whatever You want to do through me,” she said quietly. “Not my will, but Yours.”
In a few hours, she’d be at the cabin. She hoped she and Erin would have a relaxed time together. No stress. Just fun and fellowship.
The chief was cautious when telling Gibson that he needed to be especially meticulous in his handling of the body. Although it was clear he wasn’t happy about Erin’s access to the dead woman, he seemed to understand how important it was to preserve evidence. Still, she was a little worried.
“You do have people trained in forensics, right?” she asked the chief when they were both back in his Jeep.
“Detective Sergeant Timothy Johnson. He trained at the National Forensics Academy in Knoxville, Tennessee. He’ll work with Gibson to get whatever they can from the body and the place where she was found.”
A late-model dark blue pickup pulled up behind them and a tall man with dark blond hair emerged. The chief rolled down his window and called him over. When he reached them, the chief introduced Erin. Then he said, “This is Detective Sergeant Johnson. He’ll do a great job of looking over and collecting evidence.”