She felt a lot better when the conversation got around to Trey trying to get her to talk about the Butcher case while Samantha pumped him for more details on what happened to him and Connor at the bar last night. Neither one of them ended up getting what they were looking for, both of them dancing around each other’s questions, talking but saying little.
The moment Trey turned onto West Renner, Samantha caught sight of the crime scene. In addition to all the emergency vehicles lined up along the road, there was also a large collection of tents set up in the nearby tree line.
“Wow,” Trey murmured, looking out at the dozens of tents nestled in the shade provided by the scraggly pines. “This camp gets bigger every time I see it. There must be close to a hundred people living out here.”
Samantha didn’t doubt his estimate. The homeless camp was one of many that had sprung up throughout the city over the years.
As she gazed at the crowded camp, Samantha wondered if the cops had made a mistake and that the body found out here had nothing to do with the Butcher case. All the previous dumps had been in the middle of nowhere. Why the sudden change in MO?
Then she realized that most of the cops and gawkers were standing on the other size of the road from the homeless camp, staring at a section of high grass near the side of a rundown building. She couldn’t see what they were looking at, but it wasn’t hard to guess that’s where the body was located.
Trey must have thought the same thing because he turned into the building’s overgrown parking lot, stopping a short distance away from the grassy area where a handful of young cops were busy setting up crime scene tape. She glanced out the passenger window at the tents spread out among the trees across the road. Based on the heavy puddles scattered around the area, it must have rained late last night or early this morning. Assuming the body had been dumped in the dark during that time, it was possible the Butcher hadn’t known there was anyone out here.
Chief Leclair was there to greet Samantha as soon as she stepped out of Trey’s vehicle. The chief looked back and forth between her and Trey curiously before raising a questioning brow at Samantha, clearly expecting an explanation as to why the ME assigned to the Butcher task force had decided to show up at a crime scene in the company of one of her SWAT officers. But there was no way in hell Samantha was getting anywhere near that conversation, so she just nodded toward the grassy area and the young cops busy with their rolls of yellow tape.
“So, what do we have, Chief?” she asked, taking her kit out of the back seat of the SWAT SUV, noticing Trey had moved away to talk to some of the other officers farther across the parking lot. He probably didn’t want to get cross-examined by the chief, either. “Another mutilated body, I’m assuming?”
“Not quite.” The chief grimaced and motioned toward the crime scene with a hand. “Maybe you should take a look yourself rather than have me try to describe it.”
Curiosity definitely stoked now, Samantha fell into step beside the chief, pausing for a moment when they got closer to the grassy area and one of the younger cops suddenly turned and stumbled before bending over to throw up. Okay, that probably wasn’t good.
As they reached the edge of the parking lot, Samantha slowed for a few seconds to watch one of the techs from the ME’s office masking off some tire tracks there in the mud between the pieces of asphalt. She was guessing, but based on the width and tread pattern, the tracks were from a large truck or SUV. Almost certainly the one that had dumped off the body. The tread pattern looked generic, but maybe they’d get lucky.
“I’ll leave you to it,” the chief said as they reached the entrance to the crime scene and the young officer standing there writing down the names of everyone who entered the taped-off area. “But as soon as you can, I need to know if this is connected to the Butcher case. It would help if the mayor hears it from me before he gets it from the press.”
Just inside the tape, right before the grass started getting thicker, Samantha found a boot print in the mud. She leaned down to get a closer look before calling back to the tech still working the tire tracks, telling him to get on this print next. It looked identical to the ones she’d seen at the other Butcher body dumps and seemed like the connection the chief had been looking for. She’d be happy—or unhappy, depending on her point of view. The high grass and brush had been completely crushed down by the killer as he’d moved through the area, and once again, Samantha wondered how big the Butcher was. At least as large as Trey, maybe bigger.
Another few feet in, Samantha finally saw the reason the young cop had run off to throw up earlier and the meaning of the chief’s equivocation when Samantha asked about this being another body dump. It wasn’t a body. It was part of a body.
First, there was a portion of a man’s arm, neatly and cleanly amputated at the wrist and elbow. Directly beyond the arm was a fully intact left leg, amputated a few inches above midthigh. There was also another lower arm and a hand missing the fingers. It only took a quick glance at the slightly different skin tones among the parts for Samantha to realize the three pieces hadn’t come from a single victim.
She took another step forward but stopped cold when she caught sight of the pile of what could only be called scraps left strewn across the grass just short of the building’s wall. In addition to bits of skin, there were bigger chunks of internal organs and long lengths of mangled muscles and ligaments. She saw pieces of bones buried deeper in the grass. She wasn’t quite sure what part of the body they’d come from. Maybe broken rib pieces. There was an ear to one side of the bones and, nearby, a handful of knotted and twisted hair.
There was blood slopped on the wall, where the earlier rain hadn’t reached it to wash off. The way it was spattered made her think the killer had slung a bucket full of the stuff in their desire to get rid of it quickly.
Samantha swallowed hard. Even with her extensive exposure to upsetting scenes like this, she regretted her decision to eat that breakfast burrito. She’d seen a lot of vile stuff in this job, but this was hard even for her. She pushed the thoughts aside and pulled her camera from her bag, starting with wide-angle shots before moving in for close-ups.
“Is it the Butcher?” the chief asked from behind her. “I know you can’t say for sure until you do an autopsy, but I’ll take your best guess.”
Samantha turned to see Chief Leclair standing just beyond the crime tape, Trey at her side. “The boot imprint in the mud over there is a visual match for the ones at the previous crime scenes. And from a cursory look at the ends of the three amputated limbs, I can tell you they were cut with a high-speed oscillating bone saw. Unless we have two nearly identical killers using identical cutting tools, we can assume that this is another Butcher scene.”
Mouth tight, the chief gave her a nod, then left, heading over to talk to several detectives Samantha recognized from the task force. She knew the exact moment when the chief told them that they were almost certainly dealing with another Butcher killing. None of them seemed surprised; instead they all looked pissed. This psychopath was making a laughingstock out of all off them.