“Blunt force trauma. She was beaten so badly her skull was fractured along with every bone in her face,” he said. “And please call me Pedro. I have a feeling we’re going to see more of each other if you’re going to be leading the Pacific Northwest Violent Crimes Unit.” His smile was charming.

“Pedro,” Laurel agreed. “But the position has not been formally filled as of today. I may be assigned to a unit in the DC area.” She needed to focus them all on this case. “About the autopsy. Was she raped?”

“Yes,” Dr. Ortega said.

Huck exhaled loudly. “The guy managed to rape her in subzero temperatures?” His jaw hardened. “That takes a serious compulsion. Tell me you got DNA.”

“None,” Dr. Ortega said. “Traces of a condom, but no DNA on her. My guess is that he wore gloves and kept on as much clothing as possible. Even so, he spent more time bashing in her head than raping her. He had to have.”

“Maybe he couldn’t finish the rape,” Laurel said. “Could be what led to the anger. Or part of the rage, anyway.” They had to find this monster.

Huck lifted the photograph and looked at the woman. “Anything else?”

“Stomach contents showed she ate a meal of stew the night before. Other than that, she did have a tumor on her left ovary that had to have been causing her problems, and severe gout, which is rare in women. I didn’t find any evidence of medication in her blood, so she wasn’t treating it right now. There weren’t any pain killers, either.”

Huck shook his head. “How terrified did she have to be to freeze in the middle of nowhere without medication and experiencing that kind of pain? Who was she hiding from? Did she have any clue?”

“That part is your job,” Dr. Ortega said. “Also, she had surgery to repair a torn ACL, probably in her teens. There was remodeling on her right wrist from a fracture, also in her late teens. She might’ve been an athlete in her youth. Besides everything I’ve mentioned, she was in good health. That’s all I have.” He handed over the second file folder. “Copies of everything for you.”

“Sounds good.” Huck accepted the file and stood.

Dr. Ortega cleared his throat. “Agent Snow? Could I speak with you for a moment?” A light flush spread across his oval face, visible even beneath his gray goatee. “Privately?”

Laurel paused. “Of course.”

Huck looked at Laurel, his brows lowering. “I’ll wait for you in the truck. I need to feed Aeneas a treat, anyway.” The truck had a special heater for the dog’s crate so he stayed warm when he had to remain in the truck, where he also had water and food. Huck shut the office door after he left.

Laurel sat back in her chair. “What can I help you with, Dr. Ortega?”