IRENE - BLACKBIRD book 6

17. pictures

Russell came in after them and patted Hank's shoulder. "Lunch on the way, Doc. It'll be ready by the time we're done here."

"Then let's do it. I'm starving." Hank showed Gillian a box he carried and warned her, "Remember not to love me."

Gillian scoffed as they all approached the table. While Hank set the box on it, Fred nodded at the picture on the board.

"So you already know about the hair color." He produced his phone. "T, I'm sending you a picture. Can you print it, please?"

"More surprises?" asked Ron.

"Oh, yes."

"Russ, what about the other murder?" asked Gillian. "Can it be related to Irene's?"

The printer purred to life as Russell replied, "Not likely. The type matches, and the area, but not the MO. Kelly Hayes had signs of beating and strangulation, but no burnings. It was a kill during rape. And she was found in her car."

"Where?" asked Brock, turning to the map.

"In a parking lot at the end of the Trout Creek Road, by Hillsborough river. East of the I-75."

Brock pinned another red stack. "It's pretty much the same strip of land where Irene was dumped, along the Flatwoods Trail."

"Judging by sat pictures, that parking lot is a good dumpsite," Russell said. "Five minutes away from the city; easy access, yet secluded. And another jurisdiction—the parking lot is part of a County Wilderness Preserve."

"You're right," Brock muttered, and glanced at Gillian. "Let's focus on Irene for now."

Aldana grabbed Ron's notes. "She booked a room at the Ramada Inn, not far from here. Five nights. Her credit card records show she made the booking and full payment online a week ago. She was supposed to do a late check-in on Wednesday evening but never made it there."

Fred took a marker and wrote it down on a board. "So she made the reservation about the fifteenth..."

"That's correct."

Gillian summed it up, thoughtful. "Then we have a heartbroken girl, road-tripping alone to leave her misery behind. No deadlines, no final destination that we know of. But a week ago, she already knew she'd be here by Wednesday and that she'd stay five nights."

"It's a good place to wait the storm out," said Hank. "She would've checked out on Monday."

"Did she have any friend or contact here in Tampa?" asked Brock.

"Nothing on her social networks, sir," replied Tanya.

"Can we tell where she was when she booked the room?" asked Gillian.

"Kurt's working on her phone records, to ID all the numbers from calls and texts. But that wouldn't give us her online activity."

"Can't we figure where her phone pinged over the last weeks?" asked Ron. "That'd give us her location when she booked the room."

"Yeah. But that takes a lot of time."

"T, I'm gonna charge you every time you say 'but' from now on."

"Sorry, Reg. You know I hate it too."

Hank wore a serious frown to lift the box lid. "Would it help if you had her phone?"

Everybody turned to him in surprise, as he produced a phone in a plastic bag and gave it to Tanya. The girl took it with a bright grin.

"Now I can tell you her whole route in five minutes!"

"Doctor Schwarz! I really—"

"Don't, Reg. Already told you."

"Your loss. Any other wonder in your magic box?"

"Her flannel and denims. And her wallet."

"Her wallet and phone were on her body?" asked Aldana, suspicious.

"That's how they were able to ID her so quickly," Hank replied.

"How did you get all this?" asked Russell.

Fred flashed one of his placid smiles. "Reg told us to bark and scowl like feds. And it worked. Hey, Ron, hand me those prints, would ya?"

Ron took a look at the pictures as he gave them to Fred. "Nice foot."

"Oh, that's mine," said Gillian. "From the dumpsite. Agent Brockner found that footprint thirty yards away from where the body was."

"At least one shred of physical evidence about our subject," said Aldana.

While they spoke, Fred pinned another picture to the board. The others trailed off in disbelief.

"Is that...?"

"Irene's inner forearm," said Hank.

"Jeez... Her tox screen's gonna be fun."