With the impersonal enthusiasm of the scientist he is, the doc removes the sheet completely. I mentally brace as Amanda Horner’s body comes into view. I see multiple burns and abrasions on gray flesh. I’m not squeamish, but my stomach feels jittery. I’m aware of my heart beating too fast. Saliva pooling in my mouth. I know what the doc is going to say next, and my eyes are drawn to the carving on her abdomen, above her navel.

The wound has been cleaned. The XXIII carved into her flesh is unmistakable. Realizing I’m holding my breath, I exhale.

“You need water, Kate?”

The question annoys me, but I resist the urge to snap. “Did you get photos?”

“Yes.”

My eyes go to the faint bruising on the insides of her thighs. “She was sexually assaulted?”

“There was minute vaginal tearing. Some anal tearing as well. I also found evidence of burns around the anus, probably from some type of electrical charge. I took swabs, but I don’t think there was any semen left behind.”

“What about hair or fibers?”

“No and no.”

“So he wore a condom.”

“A lubricated condom, actually. I found traces of glycerin and methylparaben inside her vagina and around the anus.”

I consider that. “How can a guy get close enough to rape and not leave hair behind?”

“I have two hypotheses on that.”

“Lay them on me.”

“He could have shaved his body hair. Wouldn’t be the first time a serial rapist has gone to those lengths to avoid the risk of leaving DNA behind.”

“And the second?”

“He could have raped her using some type of foreign object. I may know more when I get my swabs back from the lab.”

“So, our guy might know something about forensics and evidence.”

“Who doesn’t these days?” He shrugs. “People watch CSI. Everyone’s an expert.”

“Put a rush on the lab, will you?”

“You bet I will.”

Some of the tension leaves me when the doc drapes the sheet over the body. “What about time of death?”

“I took a core body temp as soon as I got her here, which was at three-fifty-three this morning.” The doc looks at the clipboard. “Liver temp was 83.6 degrees Fahrenheit. My best estimate on time of death is going to be between four and seven P.M. yesterday afternoon.”

Belinda Horner told me the last time she saw Amanda was around seven-thirty P.M. Saturday, so she was abducted at some point after that. “If he abducted her sometime Saturday night, he had her for quite a while before he killed her.” The thought sickens me. Makes me want to get my hands on the sick bastard responsible and forget I’m a cop.

“I’m afraid so.” He gestures toward the body. “Whoever did this took his time with her, Kate. He wasn’t in a hurry and kept her alive for a while.”

I try to keep my voice level. “So, he probably took her to a place where he felt safe. A place where he knew he wouldn’t be overheard.” There are a lot of places like that in farm country, where houses are often more than a mile apart.