“What do we have, Allan?”

He led her toward the altar. “Initial attack likely occurred here.”

Signy spotted what was presumably the victim’s purse on the floor. Small plastic yellow markers were positioned next to each piece of potential evidence. Blood spatter speckled the wooden floorboards and a clear cast-off pattern in a distinct line was visible on Signy’s left, indicative of the path of the knife through the air when it had been withdrawn. Streaks of blood were painted across the floor, suggesting the woman had been dragged while still alive. Signy followed the signs of violence down three steps and into the center of a church hall.

Blood had pooled in the center of the room. Crimson footprints covered the floor, with so many yellow markers they were almost impossible to avoid. The carnage was in marked contrast to the almost sterile cleanliness of the Carstairs scene.

She yelled over to the tech taking photos in the church. “You take detailed photographs of all the shoe prints?” Her words echoed disconcertingly off the hallowed ceiling.

“Yep. But I want to get more in daylight so don’t tread on anything.”

She pulled a face at Allan. “How the hell are we supposed to do that?” She headed to the edge of the room on the right. “I want an officer chasing down all the individuals who attended this scene. I want their footprints eliminated ASAP.”

“An officer already left to do that,” Allan responded.

“Good work.” Signy nodded approval. Allan had always been a competent officer, but he seemed to have found new confidence with this case. Signy was irritated the FBI agent had been the one to encourage the man. She should have been paying closer attention.

There were various wrappers and gloves discarded by the EMTs who’d worked on the victim. The detritus of medical intervention. This kind of scene was always more difficult to examine because it wasn’t pristine, but the chance of saving a life trumped crime scene integrity. A black object lay amongst the mess. Signy leaned forward. “Is that a glove? Does it belong to the victim?”

Allan frowned and leaned closer. “I think Adele Surrey’s mittens are with her purse.” He peered closer, taking advantage of his greater height when neither of them wanted to risk treading on the footprints. “I hate to say this, but doesn’t it look like the same glove we found at the Carstairs murder? The one that belonged to Darby O’Roarke?”

Signy forced herself not to get excited. “It does but those kind of black gloves are ubiquitous. Does the O’Roarke girl have any connection to this place?” She held her hand up. “Don’t worry, I’ll go talk to the pastor and ask him myself. You get photographs of that glove and send it to the lab as fast as possible. I want it compared to the other one immediately. DNA and trace evidence rushed. Maybe the killer dropped it.” And maybe these two crime scenes were connected after all.