Page 49 of State of the Union (First Family 3)

“Thank you.”

Another Patrol officer stood watch over the victim, a white woman who was facedown and naked from the waist down, which meant she’d probably been sexually assaulted. Because it was her job, Sam took the required photos and then handed a pair of latex gloves to the patrolman before asking him to help her turn the woman over.

Her clothes were torn, her breasts were covered in abrasions, and her neck was badly bruised, indicating manual strangulation. The poor woman had endured a brutal attack.

A glove covered one hand, but the other was bare.

Sam pulled a paper bag from her coat pocket and carefully inserted the woman’s ungloved hand into the bag to preserve any evidence. She checked the pockets of the woman’s jacket, found a small wallet with a DC driver’s license that she held up to the beam of the patrolman’s flashlight, which was needed as storm clouds and tree cover made it almost as dark as night in the thicket.

Audrey Olsen, age twenty-four. The address listed was in Adams Morgan. Sam took a picture of the license and then bagged the wallet and the woman’s phone to be added to evidence.

“What’ve we got?” Lindsey asked as she joined Sam.

“Twenty-four-year-old Audrey Olsen, found by a woman walking a dog that broke loose and led her to Audrey. I took photos and bagged the one hand that was bare.”

Lindsey took note of the woman’s leggings and underwear wrapped around her feet. “Poor baby. Who did this to you?”

“We’re going to find out,” Sam said, filled with the outrage that powered every investigation. This young woman had been out for a run in a public park, minding her own business when her life was senselessly stolen from her. The person who’d done that to her would have Sam’s full attention until he was brought to justice, vacation or not. Audrey was hers now.

Freddie came jogging up to them. “Sorry. I witnessed an accident on the way here and had to wait for Patrol to get there.” He was driving his mother’s red Prius until he found the perfect car to replace the ancient Mustang that’d recently died.

Sam updated him on what she’d learned so far. “Let’s go talk to the woman who found her.”

On the main path, they headed for the ambulance’s flashing red lights. A middle-aged woman sat on one of the stretchers, her shoulders wrapped in a blanket, the dog seated in front of her.

“She’s a wreck, Lieutenant,” the older of two paramedics said. “Very upset.”

“Understandably. We just need a minute with her.”

They stepped aside to give Sam access to the ambulance. She glanced at Freddie. “I’ll do this so we don’t overwhelm her.”

“Sounds good.”

She climbed into the back of the bus and took a seat on the stretcher across from the woman, who gasped when she recognized Sam.

“I’d introduce myself…”

“No need. I wish I was meeting you under different circumstances.”

“As do I.” Sam pulled a notebook from her back pocket and a pen from her coat pocket. “Can you tell me your name?”

“It’s Lillian Pearson. My dog, Josie, and I were walking through the park like we do most days, when Josie started pulling me toward the brush. She pulled so hard, I lost my hold on her, which never happens. I was frantic as I ran after her, yelling for her to come back, and nearly tripped over… the woman.” She choked on a sob. “I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.”

“Did you see anyone else on the path around the time you discovered her?”

“There were two women jogging. I see them almost every day, and we always say hello, but I didn’t see anyone else. My husband… He doesn’t like when I walk in the park when it’s getting dark, but I’ve been doing it for thirty years. I love it here so much, but now…” She shrugged and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue. “I don’t know if I’ll ever come back.”

“We’re going to want you to come back to help us identify the women you saw jogging so we can find out if they saw or heard anything.”

“Whatever I can do to help.”

“Freddie?” Sam called to her partner. “Will you arrange to meet Ms. Pearson here tomorrow around this time to identify other potential witnesses?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“This is my partner, Detective Cruz.”

“Yes, I know who he is.”

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