Taking a deep breath, he dialed Finch, who answered immediately.

“Investigator Finch.”

“Hey, where are you?”

“At the morgue with Dr. Jernigan. We’re in the middle of the autopsy.”

“Anything useful?”

“Lacerations in the vaginal cavity suggest she was raped.”

“Before or after death?”

“Before.”

“And the cause of death?”

“Blunt-force trauma. Unless she was also poisoned, which we won’t know until we get the tox screens back.”

Blunt-force trauma came as no surprise. Neither did the rape. “Is there any trace evidence that might help us identify her attacker?”

“No, but now we have a better chance of identifying the victim without having to resort to dental records, although we’ll probably go that route just to confirm.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She has a tattoo on her inside right thigh—a butterfly emerging from a cocoon.”

Jonah rubbed the razor stubble on his chin, realized he hadn’t shaved or showered today and decided to head over to his motel so he could clean up. “That seems pretty distinctive,” he said as he shut down the computer he’d been using. “Did April Bonner have a tattoo like that?”

“We’re trying to find out. I’ve contacted Mesa P.D. but the detective in charge of the case is out on a family emergency and the guy who’s stepping in for him hasn’t even had time to look at the file. He said he’d dig it out and get back to me, but I’m guessing I won’t hear from him until tomorrow.”

“Francesca might know whether April had a butterfly tattoo.” He took his car keys out of his pocket and turned off the lights in the office. “If she doesn’t, she could always check with the sister who hired her.”

“I thought of that, but I can’t reach her.”

“Her cell’s gone and her home phone’s out. I told you what happened last night.”

“I know. I was hoping the home line had been fixed, but whenever I call, it rings off the hook.”

Jonah’s eyes skimmed over all the bones, broken and otherwise, lying on the tables in the main room as he let himself out. Two of Dr. Price’s helpers were still working. They glanced up when they heard his voice and waved goodbye.

“That’s probably not unusual,” he told Finch. “Depending on workload, it could take the phone company a week or two to get out there.” But being unable to reach Francesca made him uneasy all the same. “What about her office?”

“Tried that. Spoke to some receptionist who said she’d give her a message. Past few hours the receptionist hasn’t even picked up. My call transfers directly to voice mail.”

The assistant, someone named Heather, had promised to relay a message for Jonah, too, but that was it. She wouldn’t share any information on whether or not her boss was in, had been in or would be in. “Shit.”

“You seriously think Francesca might be next on Butch’s list?” Finch sounded skeptical. Or maybe he only wished the situation wasn’t what it seemed.

Jonah’s rented Volvo chirped as he pressed the unlock button on his key ring. “You don’t?”

“That’d be pretty damn bold. He’s got to know that if she gets hurt, he instantly becomes our number-one suspect. Would he really put himself right between our crosshairs?”

The heat of the day had blasted Jonah like a furnace the second he walked outside, but the inside of the car was even hotter. “No matter what we suspect, we’d still have the burden of proving it. And he thinks he can out-smart us.”

“You really believe he’s that confident?”

Jonah slipped on his sunglasses, started the engine and cranked the air conditioner to high before taking off. Fortunately, his motel wasn’t far. About the time the interior of the car grew comfortable, he’d be getting out again. But it would be insufferable without some air coming through those vents. “He outsmarted us yesterday, didn’t he? We were forced to leave with our tails between our legs while he kept Francesca’s personal belongings.”

“That wasn’t our fault.”

“Maybe it was. Maybe there was something in that salvage yard Hunsacker should’ve seen or found or suspected. He couldn’t have performed a very thorough search, not in the time they were there. They had ten acres to cover. And let’s face it, he was probably shown that mannequin, thought he understood what had caused the problem and decided he was wasting his time, so he searched with half an eye. Either way, Butch Vaughn won. Easily. And I’m sure that only confirmed his belief that he can get away with anything.”

Silence. Then Finch said, “Hunsacker admits he could’ve performed a more thorough search. I’ve discussed it with him. He was embarrassed when he saw the mannequin and started to backpedal in case he invited a lawsuit or some blight on his record.”

“There you go.”

“Stealing a purse is a far cry from murder, though.”

“He was the last person to see April Bonner alive. Even if the body at the morgue isn’t April, she’s still missing. Something happened to her after she met up with Butch Saturday night.”

“All right, all right,” he said. “I’ll put Vaughn under surveillance until we can figure out what the hell is going on.”

“That should help.” If Finch had a couple of uniforms keep an eye on Butch, Francesca could go home tonight. She might even be able to begin rebuilding her sense of security. Jonah felt better already. “I’ll see if I can get in touch with her, tell her what’s going on and find out if she knows anything about a tattoo.”

“How are you gonna do that? Drive all the way out there?”

“If I have to,” he said, and hung up. But he knew he had one other option. Adriana would probably be able to tell him where to find Francesca or how to reach her. Maybe Francesca was even at her house. But contacting the woman with whom he’d made the biggest mistake of his life wasn’t something he wanted to do.

9

Adriana had never expected to hear from Jonah again. After that night when she’d taken him home with her, they’d spoken only a few times. He’d apologized the following morning, as soon as he saw he was in her bed, even though what’d happened was more her fault than his, and he hadn’t called her after that.




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