Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Sawyer pushed open the heavy door to the Medical Examiner's office, the sterile, antiseptic smell immediately hitting his senses. The familiar hum of fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as he made his way down the corridor, his steps echoing off the tile floor. His mind raced with the grisly details of Lindsey Gill's murder, each piece of evidence forming a grim mosaic in his thoughts.

Dr. Tom Seidel, the city’s chief medical examiner, was waiting for him in the autopsy suite. He looked up as Sawyer entered, offering a curt nod of acknowledgment.

“Detective Reed,” Dr. Seidel greeted, his voice measured and calm. “I’ve just finished the autopsy on Lindsey Gill. There’s a lot to go over.”

Sawyer nodded, bracing himself for the details he was about to hear. He’d seen his fair share of brutality in his years on the force, but something about this case felt different. More sinister.

“Thanks, Doc. What do you have for me?” Sawyer asked.

Dr. Seidel gestured for Sawyer to join him at the exam table, where Lindsey’s body lay, covered respectfully with a white sheet. He pulled back the sheet just enough to reveal her face and upper torso.

“Cause of death was blunt force trauma,” Dr. Seidel began, “most likely with a heavy object.”

Sawyer frowned, leaning in close to examine the damage. The marks were brutal, a clear indication of the killer’s rage. “No idea of the weapon?”

“Unfortunately not,” the medical examiner replied. “She was also beaten severely,” he continued, indicating the extensive bruising on her face and torso. “The facial injuries suggest repeated blows. And there’s evidence of sexual assault.”

Sawyer’s jaw tightened. He had anticipated the brutality, but hearing it confirmed was always a punch to the gut.

“The most peculiar detail, though,” Dr. Seidel said, moving to Lindsey’s hands, “is that her fingers were removed postmortem.”

Sawyer’s eyes widened as he saw the crude stumps where Lindsey’s fingers should have been. “I’m guessing the killer didn’t want any DNA transfer,” Sawyer muttered. “No skin cells or blood under her nails to trace back to him.”

“Exactly,” Dr. Seidel agreed. “But that’s not all. We found white fibers in her nose and mouth, likely used to gag her during the attack. We’ll need to analyze those further.”

Sawyer nodded, making a mental note to follow up on that later. Jayla Simms’s cause of death was asphyxiation, and she’d had similar fibers in her airway. If the cases were connected, he needed every piece of evidence he could get to track down the son of a bitch who’d done this.

“There’s one more thing,” Dr. Seidel said, pulling the sheet back a bit further to reveal Lindsey’s upper left arm. “There’s a small incision here. It could be a defensive wound, but its placement and precision suggest it might have been deliberate.”

Sawyer examined the incision, a neat, almost surgical cut. It didn’t fit with the chaotic violence of the rest of the attack.

“It was made by some type of blade,” Seidel continued. “See the edges of the wound, how they’re straight? Not torn or ragged, like she was pulling away.”

“What do you think it means?” Sawyer asked, his mind racing with possibilities.

Dr. Seidel shook his head. “I’m not sure yet. But it’s definitely something to consider. I would venture to guess she was unconscious when the incision was made. The killer took great care to eliminate any potential DNA evidence, but this wound... it feels intentional. I’ll cross-check her history and see if I can find any correlation.”

Sawyer stepped back, the weight of the case settling heavily on his shoulders. Lindsey Gill’s murder was more than just a brutal crime; it was a calculated, meticulously planned act. And the killer was still out there.

“Thanks, Doc,” Sawyer said, his tone grim. “Keep me updated on those fibers. We need to find this guy before he strikes again.”

Dr. Seidel nodded, covering Lindsey’s body once more. “I will, Detective. Be careful out there.”

As Sawyer left the autopsy suite, his mind churned with the details he had learned. Each piece of evidence brought him closer to understanding the killer’s twisted mind. But it also raised more questions, and he knew the answers wouldn’t come easily.

The hunt for Lindsey Gill’s murderer was just beginning.

* * *

Sawyer pushed open the glass door of the sheriff’s department, the weight of the information he had just received from Dr. Seidel bearing down on him. He made his way through the bustling precinct, nodding absently at colleagues as he headed toward the office he shared with Cam McCoy. The small room was already crowded, with Sheriff Dare Jensen leaning against a desk, his arms crossed over his chest, concern pulling at the corners of his eyes and mouth.

"Sawyer," Cam called, motioning for him to join them.

Sheriff Jensen turned his attention to Sawyer. “What’d you find out?”

"Got some new details from the ME," Sawyer began, dropping into his chair and tossing the file folder on the desk. "Cause of death was blunt force trauma—no surprise there. She was beaten severely and sexually assaulted. Her fingers were removed postmortem, probably to prevent any DNA transfer."

McCoy let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "Jesus, that's brutal."

"There's more," Sawyer continued, glancing at his notes. "White fibers were found in her nose and mouth, likely from whatever he used to gag her. Also, there’s a small incision on her upper left arm. Although it could just be a defensive wound, Seidel thinks it might be deliberate.”

Jensen frowned, considering the details. "How does this fit with Simms and Swanson?"

“We’ve placed the same sedan at two scenes: Lindsey’s neighbor saw it parked along the street a few days before she disappeared, and Fallon’s neighbor across the street saw it the night she was abducted. She thought it was Fallon at first, but I’m guessing her car was already in the garage.”

Cma nodded. “This is our guy—we just need to figure out who the hell he is.”

“Maybe we can check the businesses next to the grocery store,” Dare put in. “See if we get a better look at the plate that way.”

“Can’t hurt.” Cam tipped his head. “But this guy is good. He’s managed to avoid every other camera in the area—I would guess he’d be smart enough to stay away from those, too.”

Sawyer ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice. "This is unreal. How does the killer know so much about everyone's routines? It's like he’s one step ahead of us every time."

Jayla’s body had been very publicly staged in the center of town, where she was certain to be found quickly. Same with Hilary—the killer had chosen a hiking trail used every single morning by the same man. It was almost as if the killer were taunting them with his ability to slip through town, completely unnoticed.

Cam nodded grimly, flipping through his own set of notes. "Jayla was found by Sean, the jogger who runs through town every morning like clockwork. Hilary was discovered by Marty, who hikes that trail religiously. Both of them stumbled upon the bodies shortly after they were left. It's not random—it's calculated."

Dare leaned forward, his brow furrowed in deep thought. "The pattern suggests the killer has intimate knowledge of Brookhaven—knows the residents, their schedules, and habits. He knows exactly when and where to leave the bodies to ensure they're found quickly. And always by an adult—never a child."

Sawyer tapped his pen against the desk, his mind racing. “The killer must have studied this area for a long time, observing, planning. He knows how to avoid detection, how to manipulate circumstances to their advantage."

Cam sighed heavily as he rubbed his temples. "The question is, who among us could have this level of knowledge? It must be someone from Brookhaven, someone who blends in seamlessly."

Sawyer glanced up sharply. "Could it be someone in law enforcement? A former detective or someone with access to police records?"

Dare shook his head. "Possibly, but not necessarily. It could be anyone—someone with a deep connection to the town, maybe even someone we know."

They fell into a troubled silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The realization was sinking in: the killer wasn't just targeting victims at random. They were executing a meticulously planned series of murders, exploiting their knowledge of the town and its people.

"We need to dig deeper," Dare finally said, breaking the silence. "We need to look at everyone—neighbors, friends, colleagues. Someone here knows more than they're letting on."

Cam nodded, determination hardening his features. "Agreed. We can't afford to overlook anyone."

"We're getting closer," Sawyer said. "Let's find this guy before he strikes again."

As they continued to pore over the evidence, a chilling certainty settled among them. The killer was among them, hiding in plain sight, their identity a mystery waiting to be unraveled. The stakes had never been higher, and the clock was ticking.