Page 64 of Eden

Adrenaline raked through her veins, bubbling in her chest. It wasn’t impossible at all, and she’d said right from the start that they’d needed to extend the search due to the rapids. Lachlan had said the same thing. Admittedly, she wouldn’t have suggested to search as far as Oradale, but still...

“The decomposition should be reduced given the temperature of the water right now,” Bethenny said, thinking aloud. “It’s possible the body will have significant post-mortem injuries due to the rocks and riverbeds he was likely dragged over in the rapids. Antemortem injuries should be minimal. Lachlan said he was limping, so at least one bullet hit him. Other than that, the injuries would be related to his fall and subsequent impact.”

Bethenny knew there was no guarantee at this stage, but if this was their killer, this was huge.

Huge.

“The coroner is en route, I was advised,” Mitch said as he accelerated onto the highway heading to Oradale.

Bethenny nodded. The corpse would have significant wrinkling with possible maceration of the hands and signs of separation and detachment of the skin of his fingers—depending on how much time he’d spent immersed in the water. For all they knew, he could’ve been lying on the riverbank for a few days.

“Who found him?” Bethenny asked.

“A few local hikers,” Mitch said, chewing his cheek. “That’s one hike they’ll wish they’d never taken. Citizens shouldn’t have to deal with stuff like this.”

Bethenny agreed. Discovering a corpse was horrifying for anyone, but one that had been submerged, wrinkled, and likely mutilated by the river would be an especially grim find.

She’d stopped counting the number of crime scenes she’d been to a long time ago, but every now and then she still saw something that made her stomach turn—and she hoped she always would. If she didn’t, she’d have become too desensitized to this work, and that was something she never wanted to happen.

Bethenny didn’t need to look at the speedometer to know Mitch was pushing the speed limit on the highway, but she kept her mouth shut. The sooner they got there, the better.

Mitch confirmed the coordinates when they were a few minutes out. They drove to the closest parking lot, then moved on foot. Neither said a word as they hiked toward the coordinates.

Bethenny prayed silently, over and over again, that this would be the key piece to link the cases together, because an hour ago she’d been staring at the whiteboard, losing hope with every second that passed.

She didn’t care about her track record—she cared about justice for the victims and she cared about keeping Lachlan out of prison.

She heard the voices before she saw a team of forensics huddled together.

Mitch fastened his pace and she matched him step-for-step.

“I’m Redwater Sheriff, Mitch Shaw, and this is Detective Bethenny Monroe,” he said, extending his hand to the man who stepped forward.

The man had bushy gray eyebrows and a full head of hair to match, despite his age. “Officer Timothy Jensen. Thank you for coming on short notice. It’s inconclusive yet, but it seems this could be the guy you’ve been looking for. Forensics are assessing the scene,” he said, looking over the people working away, paying little attention to them. “Given the wrinkling, decomposition of the body, and the injuries, we think he washed up here rather than this being the crime scene. I would bet my life on it,” he said, looking at the body bag on the ground.

“May I?” Bethenny asked, motioning to the body bag. She waited for a response before she stepped forward. She was very aware this was not their jurisdiction and she didn’t want to step on any toes. She needed their cooperation.

“Be my guest,” he said with a nod.

Bethenny moved toward the body bag and unzipped it, holding her breath so she didn’t inhale whatever odors might escape the bag.

Bloated, marbled skin. Wrinkled.

There was no doubt in her mind that he’d been in the water. He wasn’t killed on the riverbed.

Lachlan had assured her the killer couldn’t have survived that fall, and he’d been right.

She unzipped the bag fully, her eyes sweeping over his soggy clothing, some of which looked shredded—by rocks and riverbed, no doubt.

Her gaze came to an abrupt stop at his hands.

It was the same symbol that had been tattooed on Kiera’s hand and on the gold locket they’d found at Jessica’s house. Bethenny hadn’t been able to link it to any organization or criminal group, and subsequently she’d brushed it off as a personal tattoo. She pulled her phone from her pocket, taking a snapshot.

This was the missing link.

LACHLAN

He stepped inside, feeling like he’d stepped into someone else’s house... like an intruder in his own home. What had once, for a brief period, felt like a fresh start, now felt stale. His colleagues had searched every inch of this house, and knowing that made his stomach crawl. No part of his life was his own anymore; it had all been exposed.

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