She finished in the barn, collected the eggs from the coop and walked over to the firepit to examine the ashes for the umpteenth time.

It was clean.

We’re safe. We’re all safe.

Eleven

It was no real surprise when Jerry called me from the coroner’s office. He’d received the preliminary reports from the pathologist.

“We’ve got a homicide.”

What else could it be?

“Cause?”

“Blunt force trauma to the back of the head. Dr. Andrade suspects the claw end of a hammer. Skull had tool marks from the blow. Besides the fracture, of course.”

“That’s brutal,” I say. “Anything on tox?”

“Too early.”

“How about prints?”

“They pulled palms, but the fingertips were burned pretty bad. Nothing there.”

“Just the fingers?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Some burns on the face too. Andrade thinks a blowtorch was used.”

“Torture?”

“Likely post mortem.”

That’s a relief, I think. Getting beaten with a hammer is beyond belief, using an acetylene flame on a woman is the stuff of slasher films.

“Still processing the truck,” he says. “More on that in a day or two. Pretty backed up down there. We’re lucky they processed her as fast as they did. We have two rape kits that have been on ice there for almost six months. Prosecutor pushes, but they’ve got so much backlog and not enough staff.”

“That’s an excuse,” I say. “They spend their money where they want to. Guess rapes don’t mean as much as new highway projects.”

“And murders,” he adds. “Those still move the needle down there.”

I can feel where this is going and it’s all my fault. I opened the door. Jerry is on the edge of a rant about government waste. I shift the conversation back to the murder victim.

“Send me all you’ve got.”

“I already did. One step ahead of you, Detective.”

I go on to the county server, enter my credentials and password. In my folder I find a pdf of the reports from Olympia. I get the printer humming and head down the hall to the coffee room. Sheriff is pressing the button on the candy machine when I arrive.

“Damn thing never works,” he says.

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

He ignores my remark.

“How’s Snow Creek doing?” he asks.

“Printing out the coroner’s report now. Give me a bit to absorb it. I’ll swing by later.”

He nods, and I take my coffee and leave. I can hear him back at the machine as I return to my desk.