Page 9 of Race to Save Her

She turned to Anderson. “Widen the crime scene area, double it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He went to retrieve more official yellow identifying tape.

The other deputy manned the street area, making sure no one entered the scene.

Katie looked down as she walked to make sure she was approaching the body part on the same trail. Quickly slipping on a pair of gloves, she moved carefully. It wasn’t that it was dangerous, but she’d experienced more than her fair share of traps and other unusual circumstances and she wanted to move with caution.

As Katie moved toward the crime scene she saw there was indeed a human body part—an arm. She watched her step once more but couldn’t see a clear track of someone walking up to the deposit site. This struck her as odd.

She stopped about three feet away, not able to take her eyes off the display. It was both horrifying and interesting. Her gut told her it had been placed in the perfect location, according to the killer.

Her boots sunk in the deep climbing plants, where there was a slight moldy smell. Taking a deep breath and leaning closer, she saw the dismembered arm, bent at the elbow, which gave a slight crook in the middle that had been positioned in between two fence slats to keep its staged arrangement. It was directed to the west with the hand clearly in a pointing pose—without the index finger. It stopped her cold.

Katie looked closer at where the arm had been severed from the shoulder and it appeared to be a similarly clean cut as on the index finger in her Jeep. It almost gave the appearance of a mannequin’s arm rather than an actual human’s. Her instinct told her it was from the same woman. It also didn’t mean the woman was necessarily dead, and that realization in itself gave her a greater sense of urgency.

She took a brief moment to scan the surrounding rural and remote area. There was an eeriness that unsettled her. She glanced up and down the property—everything appeared serene.

Katie backed away and headed to her vehicle, where she called in on the police radio. “Dispatch, this is Detective Scott on location near Heritage Road and Sullivan. Please send forensics and a medical examiner.”

“Copy that, Detective.”

SIX

Saturday 0935 hours

Katie waited for additional personnel to arrive at the crime scene. She took judicious measures to search the area, marking anything that seemed suspicious or relating to the body part. She put protective coverings on her boots, grabbed some flag markers, and began a circular search instead of a typical grid examination.

She carefully inspected the area around the dismembered arm and then spanned out her search. She still couldn’t find anything that looked like footprints or a path. It struck her as odd because the person who disposed of the body part had to have had stepped on foliage at some point.

She stood back from the fence, staring at the arm. As she widened the preliminary search from each direction, she thought about the vast open area behind the vine-covered boundary. Then she walked farther along the road about thirty feet, and stopped.

“Detective?” said Anderson.

“Yes.”

“Do you need any assistance?” he asked, watching her with curiosity.

Katie hesitated, then said, “I’m going to take a look inside the property.” She climbed over the fence and jumped down. She wanted a different perspective of the area, to be looking at the road from within the field.

“Yes, ma’am.” Anderson hurried to his police cruiser.

Katie saw that the arson investigator was still there, leaning against his vehicle, immersed in something on his cell phone. She didn’t care, as long as he stayed away from the crime scene.

As she walked straight out into the field, she saw an area approximately fifty feet from the decrepit fence where the weeds were bent over—a trail. It was faint, but still noticeable if you knew what to look for. She walked along the area just parallel to it and then it stopped. There was no indication of any direction in which the killer might have traveled. It seemed strange. Maybe it had been caused by some type of animal, but she saw no footprints or even hoof impressions.

The sun had come out, bringing warmth. Katie stood in the field and slowly moved in a three-hundred-sixty-degree turn. No houses or buildings were visible.

Anderson was taking measurements, while Investigator Ames seemed to be watching Katie. It was difficult to ascertain if he was intrigued or annoyed.

The crime scene van approached, trailed by another vehicle Katie assumed to be from the medical examiner’s office. She yelled to Anderson, “Have everyone wait.”

The deputy gave a thumbs-up sign and then went to greet them.

Something about the entire scene bothered Katie. Questions plagued her. Why here? How did they get here without leaving a trace? It was likely to be someone who knew the area, knew the limb wouldn’t be discovered right away—that it might take a few days or even a week.

She diligently searched through the weeds, but there wasn’t anything to see. No piece of garbage that could have blown there or anything left by the perpetrator. She continued her overall search, but nothing of interest presented itself. She walked to the exact spot where she had climbed the fence and hoisted herself back over.

Katie met Eva. “Document everything you can. I marked some dragging impression out there with a flag.”