Criss Cross

Chapter 26

My stomach lurched, and I had to turn away and compose myself for several moments before I found my cold professionalism.

“He was right here,” I said. “This whole area is a crime scene.”

“Fat chance we’ll find anything in this rain,” Mahoney said. “Is it her?”

I forced myself to stare through the rain-streaked window at the severed head, the blood, and the finger, then I put on gloves and opened the rear passenger door.

“The rings are Mrs. Jenkins’s,” I said, tasting acid at the back of my throat. “I recognize them from a picture in their house.”

Mahoney opened the other rear door and peered in at the head, which was closer to him. With gloved hands, he gingerly brushed back the hair from the corpse’s face and sighed.

She was Asian.

“I don’t know whether to be happy or sad,” Mahoney said.

“Why kill another woman?” I said, studying her face.

“I have no idea what this guy’s play is,” Mahoney said. “Wait, are those gummy bears in her mouth?”

I leaned forward, feeling sickened all over again.

“Full of gummy bears,” I said. Then I noticed something white under the dead woman’s head. I reached over and shifted it over.

A folded piece of paper fell into the blood. I grabbed it before the blood could soak in and unfolded the sheet. On it was a laser-printed message.

“What does it say?” Mahoney asked.

Before I could reply, I saw the headlights of several large vehicles bearing down on us. They slowed and stopped not twenty yards away, their high beams lighting up the car and the interior from behind.

Mahoney threw his forearm up to shield his eyes, yanked out his ID and badge, held them up, and yelled, “FBI! Turn those damn lights off!”

The lights dimmed, and I could see three television satellite trucks.

A platinum-blond woman barely five feet tall launched herself out of the nearest rig with a cameraman right behind her.

“Is it true?” she demanded. “Is there a head in there with gummy bears in the mouth? And a finger? Is it Mrs. Jenkins? And who is this mysterious M?”