And the seconds ticked by.
8
Amy and Hunter were on the scene before anyone else. That was because the person who had called Hunter had been none other than their host at the motel, Martin Sanders.
Sanders had called Hunter the minute he’d stumbled upon the body while cleaning up in back. In panic, he had reached for Hunter’s card.
Hunter had called it in to his headquarters, who in turn notified local authorities even as he and Amy hurried back to the motel.
The victim was a distance into the rich trees and bracken that grew behind the little patch of backyard. Martin Sanders, white as a sheet and sweating profusely when they reached him, said he’d followed a loud buzzing sound to find her, thinking that he had a dead raccoon or possum back there. The growth had apparently been too thick for the vultures. He reluctantly led them to what he’d found.
It had been a long time since she’d been sick at a scene, but Amy swallowed hard and tried to breathe in a manner that would keep her from retching. She’d had to step closer than she wanted to in order to ascertain with any certainty that the corpse was real and that it was the body of a woman. It was impossible to guess what had killed her; it was almost impossible to see she was naked. She was covered by a swarming hill of ants, and flies buzzed around so thickly they almost appeared to be a blanket.
Amy’s first feeling was horror.
Her second was deep and profound sorrow and failure. They hadn’t caught the killers; the killers had struck again.
Despite their distance from heavily populated areas, sirens were soon heard. Detective Victor Mulberry was quickly there, alone in his car, but the local forensics department was right behind him. Dr. Carver reached them with applaudable speed, along with his assistants and morgue vehicle. Amy was glad the FBI had taken over and Hunter was lead investigator on the case. He did the talking to the others. Nothing had been moved; they had not touched the corpse.
Dr. Carver quickly went to work, getting help from his assistants and forensics. He needed to capture some of the insects on the body, and get rid of others so he could give it his initial inspection.
While Carver and his team worked, Amy and Hunter stood in a line with Detective Mulberry, watching as Carver inspected the body and the forensic team carefully inspected the area. Aidan Cypress was working the scene, Amy saw, and she was glad. Cypress had grown up just an hour or so south of where they were; he knew the landscape here as few others would.
She stepped back as the team moved in, her movement instinctive as the swarm of flies and other flying creatures took flight at the disturbance.
She and Aidan looked at each other.
“Ants,” he said quietly.
“Pardon?”
“I’m not the ME, but I’d bet a bundle they’re going to discover that she was killed by some form of army ant. There are hundreds of kinds of army ants, but...the way the body looks, I’d say that’s what happened.”
“There are...large colonies of army ants around here?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “No.”
“But—”
“I had several classes in entomology at the university, but I also had a cousin who had been traveling, bought a colony of the suckers and forgot to cover their dome one night. Another cousin woke up screaming. A small colony had started feasting on him while he was sleeping. I’ll never forget how quickly they did a number on his skin.” He hesitated. “I’m not the medical examiner or a detective, Amy, but I’m going to suggest the ants were brought in on purpose. Not that they don’t exist in North America—they do. But a colony that could do that to someone...wherever they came from, it was planned.”
“Pestilence,” she said softly.
“Are you all right?” Aidan asked her.
She shook her head. “We...we didn’t stop this.”
“Amy, this corpse—and some of the insects at least—were brought here. I’m going to bet, too, she’s been dead for several days. They held her somewhere and had the insect population under their control. They brought her here to let other forest creatures finish her off.”
“Last night?” she asked softly.
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think she’d have been here right around the same time we found the other woman on the cross.” He hesitated. “Don’t go thinking you could have stopped this. It likely happened before you were on the case.”
“Thanks, Aidan,” she told him.
She looked over to where Hunter was standing, a few feet away, and caught his eye. Amy thought he had probably heard her conversation with Aidan, as well.
Dr. Carver swatted at a flying bug, left the corpse and approached them. His expression was grim and he had a sheen of perspiration on his face.
“Insects,” he said.
“Lots of them,” Hunter agreed. “But did they kill her?”
“I’m going to have to get her to the morgue, get her cleaned up enough so that I can do a thorough inspection and autopsy. Honestly, there’s been a lot of damage. A form of army ant has been at work on her along with any number of other creatures—worms, flies, you name it.” He hesitated. “She’s, uh, still being compromised as we speak, so we’ll have what’s on her now to study—”
“Compromised?” Mulberry said.
“They’re still consuming the body,” Hunter said quietly. His expression remained hard and dark. Amy wondered if he, too, had thought at first they might have stopped this.
Mulberry made a sound in his throat and turned away.
“She could have been dead before the insects started?” Hunter asked.
“I’ll get right on this. We have fine entomologists in the forensics department locally, but any evidence or...anything can be handed over to the FBI.”
“We’re going to need to know, if possible, how she died—and when,” Hunter said.
“An exact time is going to be difficult, but the entomologists will help in that area. Even when you have army ants, as you see, there are flies, and larvae, and growth stages,” Carver said.
Hunter looked at Mulberry. “You good to stay here?” he asked.
Journalists were starting to arrive. Mulberry’s men were keeping the trucks and cameras back on the main road.
“I’ve got this. Do what you need to do,” Mulberry said.
“We’re almost ready to get her to the morgue—and keep this from becoming a dog and pony show,” Carver told them.
“Thank you,” Hunter said. “Amy?”