There was no response from the woman sitting in front of them except for the barest of nods, and an almost imperceptible move up and down of her shoulders. Shelley and Zoe got up, both of them hesitant to leave her—but they knew she was not alone. Away in the room with the closed door, giving them privacy, had to be her wife; they would get through it together.
Though they would be likely to get through it sooner, at least in Zoe’s experience, if they had concrete information about who had taken their loved one away from them—and the chance to see justice done.
“We’d better get to the sheriff’s station and set up an investigation center,” Zoe said, pausing just before she got into their rented car. “The sooner we get a lead on this, the better. Looks like we have someone to start with: the friend, Cora.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky,” Shelley said, with dark humor. “Maybe she’s the one who did it.”
But as she got behind the driver’s seat, Zoe privately thought that there was no chance at all they were that lucky.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“All right,” Zoe said, settling down in front of the table they had set up by pushing two desks together. “What do we have so far?”
Shelley glanced over the files they had spread over both sides of the table. One side for Michelle Young, one side for Lorna Troye. “We have two young women, around the same age. Both murdered during the daytime, which shows a certain level of confidence. Both in the same local area, albeit in two different towns, within the same state. One blonde, one brunette. Both alone at the time of death. Neither with any witnesses.”
“And we have the murder weapon appearing to be the same one in both cases,” Zoe added. “The machete, used to behead the victims and remove the heads to an as yet unknown location.”
Similarities and differences. In the early stages of a case involving multiple homicides, that was what you had to look for. What did the victims have in common, that would single them out and make them targets? What was different between them?
Their age and good looks were a good enough starting point as to the targeting. Opportunity might have come into it, and might not, as they had already explored.
But what about the differences?
“The distance between the towns may be significant. A forty-minute driving window.”
“Could be he’s local,” Shelley said. “Or that he’s traveling, I suppose?”
Zoe inclined her head. “Statistics suggest that the majority of multiple murderers strike within a radius of their home. Usually not close enough that they do not feel safe. Far enough away to ease suspicion, but still close enough to be able to move easily. A two-hour radius from both towns might be practical in terms of a suspected catchment area.”
Shelley glanced over a map. “Too many places in that radius to consider yet,” she said. “We’ll need to narrow it down more.”
What else could they use?
“Lorna was not supposed to be alone when she was killed,” Zoe said out loud, thinking it over. “That means that if our killer was lying in wait for her, he would either have known that her plans were cancelled or would have just been waiting for anyone to drop by without knowing exactly who to expect.”
Shelley was biting one of her fingernails, worrying at the side of it with her teeth. “The friend that cancelled,” she said. “We should be able to track her down. Do we have Lorna’s cell phone?”
“Not as yet,” Zoe said, checking over an evidence log that the sheriff had provided them with. “It looks like they have someone trying to get into it. It was password-protected. We will probably have to wait on a warrant for the cell company to provide us with access.”
“Social media accounts, then,” Shelley said decisively, taking out her own cell and starting to tap around on the screen.
“I am not sure that we have her account names just yet,” Zoe said, flipping back and forth through the pages of the report about Lorna’s belongings.
“We don’t need them,” Shelley said, smiling. She held up her screen. On it was clearly displayed an image of Lorna, shown on the feed of a Facebook page. “Not many Lorna Troyes in this area to choose from.”
Zoe scooted closer, leaning over the table so she could get a better look. “Any recent posts from a Cora?”
Shelley scrolled down the feed a little. “Yes, here, look: she tagged both of them at a restaurant a couple of weeks ago. Cora Day.”
“Good work.” Zoe nodded. “I don’t suppose we are lucky enough that she has Michelle Young also listed as a friend?”
Shelley frowned, spinning the screen back toward herself and quickly swiping down the page, looking through Lorna’s friends list. “No, doesn’t look like it.”
“Maybe we can see if they have any shared interests or friends other than Cora,” Zoe suggested. “I will take Michelle, you stay on Lorna. We can call out the friend names in alphabetical order and see if any match up.”
Shelley obliged, going back to Lorna’s list and dutifully reading out the names on it one by one. Zoe, who had thankfully been able to find Michelle easily enough by checking out her profile image, kept an eye on the alphabetical list of her friends in turn. None of them matched.
Shelley sighed. “That’s a dead end, then.”
“Maybe not yet,” Zoe cautioned. “This is still a small enough area, and it is not like everyone automatically adds each person they meet to their friends list. We should take a look at their posts and check-ins. Maybe they both go to the same location regularly.”
Shelley agreed. “I’ll start making a list,” she said. “Anything from the last few months. We can compare notes.”
Zoe set to work checking out Michelle’s feed. It was slow work. Michelle seemed to have had a habit of venting every possible thought on her page, often with such vague commentary that it seemed only the person who it was aimed at would be able to truly understand it. There was often a flurry of comments on these vague updates, asking for more details that Michelle never gave.
But, wait: there… was that…?
“Cora Day?” Zoe said, out loud. “That was her name?”
“That’s right,” Shelley said, looking up. “Do you have something?”
“Here,” Zoe said, showing her. “Looks like they did know each other after all.”
There was a photograph, showing Michelle and a group of other women. Standing off to the left, and smiling, was a woman tagged as Cora Day.
“That’s her,” Shelley confirmed. “Where was that taken?”
Zoe consulted the tags. “At a nightclub in town. I’ll keep looking. There may be more.”
There was more, and it didn’t take her long to find it. There, just a few posts below, was a comment from Cora—the first she had seen, but in chronological terms, the most recent.
Whatever had been going on between the two of them, it did not seem to have been pleasant.
“Listen to this,” Zoe said, reading aloud. “You’re so obvious, bitch. Stop posting updates about me. If you want to say something, say it to my face.”
“What’s that?” Shelley gasped.