Four by M J Preston

Author:M J Preston [Preston, M J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781952225000
Publisher: WildBlue Press
Published: 2020-02-24T16:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 18 – Rage and Abandon

1

17 November 2008

Off PA 28

Near Summerville, PA

The rest stop was buzzing with police cars, cops on foot, and a white Chevy forensics van emblazoned with the State Police logo. From that vehicle, men in white neoprene suits carried equipment up a snow-beaten path to where a tent had been erected over the bodies.

Maxwell’s mini-task force, now married up with Lieutenant Cole Abraham, was standing at the scene being briefed by an investigator named Paul Cheswick, from the Pennsylvania Bureau of Forensic Services. “We’ve got two adult male victims, late twenties to mid-thirties. Both bodies have been mutilated by local wildlife. One of the bodies is missing an arm, chewed off at the elbow. As far as we can tell, both were killed by gunshots to the back of the head and then buried with snow to conceal them.”

“Are the faces recognizable?” Maxwell asked.

“One is. The other one must have been tastier because the animals took his arm, nose, left eye, and the right cheek has been chewed down to the bone,” Cheswick said.

Maxwell held up his phone. “I’d like to go in for a look. How long until your people are finished processing the scene?”

“We’ll be here all day, but if you suit up, you can come in for a look.” Cheswick was speaking of the white neoprene throwaway coveralls he was wearing.

“You got my size?” Maxwell asked.

“Yeah, we got every size imaginable.”

“Good, let’s do this, then. I’d like to bring my team up there if possible.” Maxwell looked around to see if anyone had a complaint. No one did.

Cheswick led Maxwell to the forensic van and opened the sliding door. He climbed inside, leaving Maxwell outside, and rooted around until he found what he was looking for. “Try these.” He tossed Maxwell a set of coveralls.

“Thanks,” Maxwell said and unwrapped the coveralls.

“If those don’t fit, I got two sizes larger.”

Maxwell shook the coveralls out and put them on. He then smoothed them out and said, “This’ll work.”

“One sec,” the investigator said, and picked up a handheld radio. “Mike, you have a copy?”

“Go ahead, Paul,” the forensic investigator replied.

“Where are you at with the collection process?” Cheswick asked. He stared up at Maxwell and the others while waiting for his guy to reply and lit a smoke.

“The footprint castings are setting. We should have them off the ground in about fifteen minutes,” Mike, the forensic tech, replied.

“Okay, I have a group of investigators here from the FBI who want to come up for a look. Does that work for you?”

There was a pause, then, “Yeah, give us twenty minutes, and we won’t have to worry about anyone walking all over the crime scene.” Emerson sounded irritated by the request.

Cheswick shrugged. “His full name is Mike Emerson. He’s a thorough tech, just not a people person.”

Maxwell grinned. “You guys got a job to do. We get that, and we’ll try not to be in your way for too long. We just want to get a look at the faces and compare them to the guys we’re chasing.

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