The Perfect Expression by Blake Pierce

Author:Blake Pierce [Pierce, Blake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-17T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

When they arrived at the small, neighborhood parkette in Brentwood Park, it was almost midnight.

Jessie squinted as her eyes tried to adjust to countless flashing lights cutting through the darkness. They got out of the car and walked past the police tape, where Officer Sturgil was waiting for them. On the ground near a bench behind him, a crime scene team was hard at work gathering evidence.

“I didn’t think you’d still be on duty,” Ryan said, surprised.

“I wasn’t,” Sturgil admitted, “but one of my buddies who is told me about the nature of the scene, and it sounded awfully familiar, so I felt a responsibility to come down.”

“Well, we appreciate it,” Jessie said. “It always helps to work with someone who’s already well-versed in the details of the case. What made you think they were connected?”

“Both victims are from this neighborhood,” Sturgil said. “They only live a few blocks apart. Same age range too. Ava Martell was thirty-four. This victim, Gabriella Silva, is thirty-six. Of course the timing of the killings, on consecutive nights, is suspicious. And lastly, there’s the manner of death. Silva was also bashed in the head multiple times, before she had plastic wrap tied around her head. Although the medical examiner’s initial view is that in this case, the victim died before the wrapping occurred.”

“That’s pretty compelling,” Ryan said. “Anything else jump out at you?”

“Once I got here, I found out that nothing had been stolen,” Sturgil said. “She still had her phone and purse, which had her car keys and several credit cards, though like last time, no cash. Like with Martell, the phone was smashed to bits. Her ID says she lives about six blocks from here, but her car is parked right up the street. And there was something else.”

“What’s that?” Jessie wondered.

“Just that the murder weapon doesn’t seem to match the prior killing,” Sturgil told them. “The size and shape of the—indentations—in her skull are different.”

“You want to take a look?” Ryan asked Jessie.

She nodded and walked over to the body. The crime scene crew, who were placing pieces of debris in evidence bags and dusting the parkette bench for prints, stopped what they were doing and stepped aside.

“We think it happened pretty late,” Sturgil said. “One officer spoke to a resident who said her teenage kid was hanging out here with friends until almost 10 p.m. There was obviously nobody here when they left. A guy walking his dog found her around eleven.”

Jessie looked down at Gabriella Silva. She was face-down on the cement path by the bench. The back of her skull was basically flat where it had been smashed multiple times. Unlike with Ava Martell, her top appeared to be ripped, though not to the point of coming off. Her skirt seemed untouched.

To Jessie, it appeared that either Silva had either been grabbed as she tried to get away or that the killer had clumsily tried to make the murder look like a sexual assault before giving up.

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