Cut to the Bone(16)

“We’ve put on every available resource,” Branch assured. “Chief Cross and the county sheriff assembled a joint task force. Our best detectives, CSIs, and canine units are in the field looking for clues. The state crime lab’s on board. And we’ve issued an all-points bulletin on the killer.”

He didn’t mention that nobody knew what he looked like - all the manicurist remembered was the gleaming blade - where he was headed, what he was driving, or if he was a he.

Cassie had stumbled into the police station at 2:16 p.m., drained white from her frantic drive from Milwaukee. Her husband, she said, was in Amsterdam on business. She’d caught him between meetings, and he was taking the next flight home. The task force debriefed her face-to-face, then him via cell.

Nothing useful.

The coroner wasn’t ready for the formal identification, so Branch offered to drive Cassie to her daughter and boyfriend’s condo. Perhaps she’d see something to spark a helpful memory.

That wasn’t working, either.

“Think hard, Mrs. Reynolds,” Branch urged. Zabrina’s lime-green streaks hinted at a wild side, so he steered the conversation that way. “Did she have enemies? Owe someone money? Any arguments with her boyfriend? Or other friends? Did she use drugs-”

“No!” Cassie screamed, pummeling the bedspread till dust flew. “No, no, no! Zee was a good girl! She didn’t do anything like that!”

Branch waited out the cloudburst.

Finally, Cassie rubbed her glistening cheeks, turning the mascara into fingerpaint. “Our daughter was a dream come true, Captain,” she said. “It was hard for us to conceive. My mother had the same problem with me. But finally, it happened, and Zabrina was born.”

Her smile became wistful, Branch noted. Happier times.

“She was a kind, wonderful girl,” Cassie said. “I never had a lick of trouble with her, not even the mother-daughter fights you expect. We were very close.”

“Yet Zabrina lived here,” Branch pointed out. “Not in Milwaukee.”

“Her boyfriend landed a job in Naperville, so she decided to move,” Cassie said, with a little head bounce that said she hadn’t been exactly thrilled. “We offered to buy her a place near us so we could see her more. But she wanted her independence. You know, cut the apron strings.” Her eyes refilled, and she lifted Zabrina’s pillow to her face.

Branch saw that a lot with survivors - scent was such a powerful reminder of their loved ones. He let Cassie breathe awhile, then asked the next question.

“She took the spa job right after she moved in with Barry,” she said, lowering the pillow. “Only temporary, while she looked for something that paid better. But she grew to love it. She took a night job for extra money.”

“Doing what?”

“Waitressing, One of your downtown steakhouses.” She pursed her lips. “Or maybe it’s seafood? I forget.”

Branch made a note to track that down.

“I heard something you might like to know,” he said. “The ladies at the mud spa genuinely looked forward to seeing Zabrina walk in every morning.”

“Really?”

“That’s what they told me.”

Cassie glowed, straightened a little. “That’s wonderful to hear, Captain. You always like to believe people adore your children. And it proves what I’m saying - she wasn’t on some mobster’s hit list. She didn’t gamble, take drugs, cheat on Barry, or do those other horrible things you said. She was killed by some random nut.”

The precision of the knife work suggested otherwise, but he let Mrs. Reynolds hang onto that particular pillow as long as she could. She’d need it. “Why do you think that?” he encouraged. Half of what detectives found useful came from the informal rambles at the end.

“You see it all the time,” Cassie said. “The Amish school. Columbine. Post offices. The Middle East. Someone goes nuts, and innocent people die! In this case, my only child! My baby!” Her eyes leaked grief. “You see it all the time . . .”

“The poor dear,” Donna Chen said, delicate fingers fluttering against her linen blouse. “I pray she didn’t suffer.”

“No,” Emily said. “Zabrina died instantly. I know she didn’t feel a thing.”

“Oh, I’m so happy,” Donna said. She immediately flushed.

“It’s OK, Mrs. Chen. I know how you meant it.”

“Please, Detective, have a seat.”

Emily eased into the striped wingback. She declined the proffered lemonade - she was pounding down too much sugar today as it was. While Branch questioned Zabrina’s mom next door, a dozen task force members canvassed the condo complex, knocking on doors in search of leads. Emily drew the neighbor.