Bad Behavior(133)

The only difference was it was a male this time. A break in the series. Serial killers were methodical, choosing victims based on very specific traits. Why would the killer change the pattern?

Once out of the bayou, we stopped at a greasy spoon in the small town near the crime scene and texted Dr. Snider to meet us there.

Caroline slid into the booth and scooted so I could settle in next to her. I put my arm along the seat behind her. I wanted to pull her into my side. Her cheeks were red and her lips almost blue-tinged from the cold. She'd done well at the crime scene. She'd done great, actually. Asking all the right questions and paying close attention to Dr. Snider's process and the chatter from the officers around her. I was proud of her, though I couldn't tell her that, of course.

"Rourke. It's got to be him. I wonder if he's still at the boardinghouse." Her mind was whirring.

"Maybe." I shrugged and inched my hand closer to her shoulder. "We don't have enough information to go on just yet."

"But he's super violent, clearly psychotic, and knew the victim." She ticked the points off on her fingers.

"Maybe. But we can't get ahead of ourselves. We need to get the autopsy results, make sure it's not a copycat killer, speak with Rowan, and then try to speak with Rourke."

She nodded, then gave me a wide-eyed look. "Let's take guns when we go back to see that guy." 

I laughed. "We'll go together. I'm not worried. You can protect me."

She smiled and stared up at me. I glanced to her mouth, desperate to taste her. Her cheeks grew even pinker, and she darted her tongue out to wet her lips. Fuck. I wanted to kiss her, the restaurant be damned.

I leaned closer, but movement outside caught my eye. A black-and-white turned off the highway, pulling up out front and dropping Dr. Snider off. Caroline dropped her gaze, the moment gone, and waved to him as he entered.

I took a deep breath. Focus on the case.

Dr. Snider hurried over and plopped down across from us.

We ordered from a harried waitress. The moment she was gone, I lowered my voice. "Spill, Doc."

He pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Definitely a Butcher victim. Everything is too dead-on-pardon the pun-to be a copycat killer. Bloodletting, carving, finger missing. All of it matches. It's him. But he messed up this time. He'd weighted the body down with cement blocks, but the rope didn't hold. That's the only reason the body was found so quickly this time."

"Does that mean you might be able to gather more evidence?"

Dr. Snider shrugged. "Maybe. The wounds are definitely fresher. This guy wasn't killed months ago."

"But when? Rowan's been locked up for a month. If we can prove he was in jail when Tyler was killed, then this could be his ticket to freedom." Caroline placed both pale hands around her hot cup of coffee, no doubt to steal some of its warmth. I resolved to buy her a nice pair of gloves.

"Maybe, but time of death is difficult on bodies that have been submerged." He shrugged. "I could guess, but that's all it would be. A guess."

"Guess for me, Doc," I said. Tyler's death could either blow the State's case against Rowan to pieces or add another number to Rowan's body count.

"Given the colder weather, the possible time submerged, the decay?" Dr. Snider drummed his fingers on the weathered tabletop. "No more than a month. Could be even less."

Caroline leaned forward. "Will you testify to that? To less than a month?"

Her instincts were perfect. A natural.

"I will. Yes. I'm not one hundred percent, mind you. But it could definitely have happened while Rowan's been under arrest. But, then again, could have been slightly before."

The waitress returned, her arms laden with plates. Once she'd retreated behind the high bar again, we resumed our conversation.

"Anything else? What did the cops say?"

"Not much. A fisherman and his kid found the body and called the troopers. Troopers weren't sure if it was another Bayou Butcher case, given that the victim was a male this time." He stuffed a huge chunk of waffle into his mouth.

"Who's doing the autopsy?" Caroline asked. She was eating well, seemingly not as creeped out by the crime scene as I worried she'd be. Her head was in the game.

Dr. Snider raised his fork and waved it around.

I smiled and bit into a slice of crisp bacon. "Perfect. When?"

"Turnbull decreed tomorrow morning, nine o'clock sharp."

"Think you can pinpoint time of death any better once you get Tyler on the table?" I asked.

"Only one way to find out."

"Oh, shit." Caroline swallowed hard.

"What?"

"Do you think the troopers told Luke yet?" She put her fork down and clasped her hands in her lap before turning her big brown eyes up to me. "He's such a nice guy. I'd hate for him to hear about it from Turnbull or someone even worse."