Page 87 of Deadly Secrets
“Where are Nadia and Win?” Roman asked her.
“Win’s in the church on the upper story filming the crowd, and Nadia is circulating through the onlookers to see if any of them match the suspects we have from the TrackREC results.”
“Good.” Roman cocked his chin at the body bag and spoke to Brooke. “You sure you want to see this?”
Steeling her nerves and her churning stomach, she nodded.Focus on the anger. The frustration.
The coroner leaned forward to unzip the bag.
A waft of cloying metallic scent rose in the tight quarters and Brooke had to put a fist up to her nose.
Oh God.
Jamison’s eyes were closed but his tongue hung from the corner of his mouth. The sigil carved into his forehead was no surprise, and yet it felt like a smack in the face to her all over again. As if the killer wasn’t so much marking the young man as taunting her.
Roman pointed to the outline of blue-black bruises ringing the neck. “Do you think you’ll get any fingerprints?”
The coroner held up his gloved hands. “The killer most likely used gloves, but I’ll certainly check.”
“Choking him is so…” Brooke shivered against the thought invading her brain. To hold someone down and choke the life from them was…gruesome, violent… “Personal.”
“Exactly.” Roman took a pen from his pocket and used the tip to tease the lapel of Jamison’s shirt aside to show further bruising. “Which is why your theory about it being someone the kid knew rings true. He never expected the attack, and whoever did this was in a rage.”
The coroner folded the sides of Jamison’s shirt back, revealing the young man’s chest. Brooke gasped and reeled back.
The letters were crudely drawn, but the killer’s message was clear.
Doc
U
R
next.
Brooke bolted out the back of the ambulance before Roman could stop her. He’d seen the horror on her face, the belief that she was responsible for Jamison’s death, and he understood what she was going through.
He felt it too, that crawling, gut-twisting sensation in his lower belly. The guilt.
The anger.
Jumping down after her, he stayed on her heels, not touching her, but not letting her out of reach.
Because he knew the killer was there. Watching. Waiting.
Waiting to get his hands on Brooke.
U R next.
If he knew anything about serial killers, the man who’d killed Jamison was not The Reverend. The sigil might fit The Rev’s MO, but leaving a message on the kid’s chest did not.
This guy was a copycat. Or an apostle who’d broken from the group to go out on his own.It’s Luke.
The guy had broke rank and file initially when he’d visited the church and mission. None of the others had exposed themselves like that. Now he’d tried to cover up his tracks and scare Brooke off by killing the kid and leaving her a message.
Or maybe it’s for me. He was a PhD as well.
He could only hope, but his gut told him differently.
