Private: #1 Suspect

CHAPTER 77

Del Rio was scraped and shaken, but he hadn’t slammed into anything on the way down. He rested for a moment, then got to his feet and made for his flashlight, which was, miraculously, still throwing light. Huffing, he picked his way across the rough terrain and closed in on young Piper Winnick.

She was on her back, her arms flung out like broken wings. Her white cotton nightgown was ripped and dirty, hiked up to her breasts, exposing her panties. She was wearing one shoe, a match to the slipper Danny had been holding in his hand.

Del Rio knew Piper was gone, but he hunched down beside the girl and put his hand to her neck.

He couldn’t find a pulse. He listened to her chest. No heartbeat. Her body was still warm to his touch. He didn’t want to accept it, but Piper was dead and that was a sin. No other word for it.

Del Rio wanted to straighten her limbs, cover her body, close her eyes-acts that would destroy the crime scene, which this almost certainly was.

He flashed his light over Piper’s face, tracked the dried blood to a wound at her temple-and saw that her skull was crushed there, caved in.

He used his light and his camera phone to catalogue the skull wound, the bruise on her arm, scrapes on her thighs, the blood trailing down her pale skin, indications that Piper had been alive when she’d gone over the cliff.

Playing his light up the canyon wall, Del Rio saw dozens of big rocks, any one of which could have cracked Piper’s skull.

Danny. That fucking kid.

Screwing young girls wasn’t enough. He’d moved up a few levels to physical aggression. Had Piper tried to get away from him, made a misstep, and fallen? Or had Danny shoved her over the edge on purpose?

Del Rio remembered the way Piper had looked yesterday morning, giddy with life. He could still see her in that yellow dress, holding on to her hat, saying her lines in a girlish voice with an Italian accent. He remembered the look of joy on her face when she got into that fast car with Danny.

He tried to remember what Danny had looked like when he’d floored the accelerator, but he couldn’t picture him. Del Rio had been looking at the girl.

Del Rio imagined getting his hands on Danny, knocking his teeth out, breaking the bones in that too-pretty face. He was twenty years older than Danny, but he could still do some damage to a wimpy piece-of-crap kid like that.

Del Rio stood up. He had tears in his eyes as he looked at Piper’s body. Her last minutes had been filled with fear and pain. A nice young girl like that.

“You were having a good day, Piper. A good life. I’m sorry this happened to you.”

Del Rio opened his cell phone and dialed Justine.