Renegade (Tin Star K9 Series Book 1) Jodi Burnett (popular books of all time txt) 📖

“Over here.” Colt nodded a greeting to the town doctor and shook hands with Dunn. “I’m Deputy Branson. I’ve been guarding the crime scene.”

“Have you started a crime scene log?” The small woman peered up at Colt.

“Not yet.” He slid a thin notebook out of his front shirt-pocket.

“List everyone who has been to the crime scene and the approximate times of arrival and departure.” Dunn set her equipment down thirty feet from the grave and went to work. She marked the perimeter of the area with a wheel measurer, then took photos from every angle before she retrieved her more detailed measuring devices.

Standing out of the way, Caitlyn asked, “Do you mind if I watch you work? I took a class on crime scene investigation in college, and I find it fascinating.”

“I appreciate your interest,” Dunn shook her head. “But it would be best if you went back home. We’ll be down when we’re finished. We’ve got it from here.”

Caitlyn’s shoulders fell with disappointment. “Okay. I should let you know you don’t have phone coverage up here, and… watch for rattlers.” A tiny zip of satisfaction darted through her at the fear that flashed in Dunn’s eyes, then just as quickly, her empathy kicked in. “Don’t worry. They mostly stay around the rockier areas. Just keep an eye out.”

Doctor Kennedy and the investigator slipped on gloves, booties, and hairnets before Dunn methodically circled the scene. She wound her way closer and closer to the grave, looking for anything she considered potential evidence. “Here. This looks like a partial boot print. Not more than an edge, but I’m going to photograph and cast it before we move further.” Caitlyn untied her horse and swung up into the saddle. “Come on, Ren. Let’s go home.” Home… Will I ever stop calling this ranch home? Together, Caitlyn and Renegade made their way down the mountain and across the pastures to the barn.

8

Colt watched Caitlyn go. It was incredible to see her—to have this unexpected opportunity to spend time with her, though he was sorry it was under these circumstances. Normally, she avoided him whenever he saw her in town. He’d have to make the most of these chances because getting her out of his heart and mind had proved impossible.

He leaned against the trunk of a giant pine as the CSI proceeded with her work. She set up a tripod directly over the boot print and took photos at a ninety-degree angle. After that, she sprayed the impression with a soil fixative, then filled it with a casting substance. “That could easily be one of our boots, Officer Dunn.”

The woman glowered at him. “Yes. It would have been helpful if no one approached the crime scene. There are dog prints here too.” She frowned and cast them as well before taking twenty or more photos of the grave up close.

When she gave him the all-clear, Doctor Kennedy carried his duffle to the loose dirt and knelt down. “I presume you’ll want to sift the soil for evidence as we uncover the body, but before you begin, I would like to bag the exposed hand.” He reached for the fingers, pressed the skin and moved each joint. “Pliable. Past rigor. I’ll check the core body temperature, but my guess at this point is that death occurred between forty-eight and fifty-six hours ago.”

“That would make the time of death sometime Friday night into Saturday morning,” Colt said more to himself than the others.

Doc Kennedy slipped a white paper bag over the exposed hand and taped it closed around the wrist. “Protecting any evidence that might be under the fingernails.” He told them as he sat back on his heels. “Ready to sift through the dirt?”

Dunn retrieved a small spade, and a framed piece of screen. Painstakingly, she shoveled two to three cups of soil at a time onto the sieve and then jiggled the dirt into a pile beside the grave. Gradually she uncovered a woman’s body.

The doctor took a core body temperature and Dunn snapped many more photos. When the investigator finished documenting the scene, Doctor Kennedy asked, “Deputy, we’ll need your help to remove the body. Do you have gloves?” Colt slid on a pair and approached the grave as the doctor bagged the second hand.

“Here, rub some of this under your nose. It will help cover the smell.” The doctor handed Colt a small jar of Noxzema. “Then, I’ll get her feet, and you grasp her shoulders. On the count of three, lift and move her to the side. We’ll roll her over once she’s on level ground.”

Colt braced against a shudder as he applied the sharp scented cream. This wasn’t the first dead body he’d seen. It wasn’t even his first experience with a fatal gunshot wound to the head, but it was the first dead person he knew. Kennedy would call Wendy’s family to come in for an official identification, but it was her.

“Got some blood spatter here.” Dunn sounded excited. “And a lot of seepage directly below where her head was.” She carefully dug the soil and placed the sample inside a large paper bag. Dunn collected several soil samples before she sprayed the area with Luminol. With a portable black light, she scanned the site to see how far the blood spray extended from the burial spot. A wash of blue-green droplets glowed in the dirt, and Dunn photographed and measured it all.

“On the count of three, we’ll roll the body to your right.” Dr. Kennedy counted.

“Look at all that bruising.” Colt swallowed hard. “Was she beaten?”

“Possibly, but this purple mottling is actually livor mortis. When the heart stops beating, the blood settles at the low points of the body. It’s fairly even, leading me to believe the killer did not move the victim after death.”

“I concur.” Dunn sat on her knees at the edge of the grave. “With the blood seepage and spatter patterns I’ve found, I think the victim