Revenge by Debra Webb Read Free Book Online Page B

know what it is or how it connects to anything. But that guardian angel message from Lopez keeps nagging at me.’ Another knot tied deep in her belly. ‘I don’t like that feeling one little bit.’
    Jefferson County Coroner’s Office, 11.39 A.M.
    An autopsy, even a partial one, was an excellent tool for an investigator. Oftentimes it was the results of the tests conducted by medical examiners that turned around a case going nowhere or, worse, in the wrong direction. Jess was banking on the story Scott Baker’s body could tell to help clear Frances and point them in the direction of the real killer.
    Baker lay on the cold steel table, his arms at his sides, his naked body a somber gray. Before this day was over, every inch of him would be tested in one way or another. The tiniest speck of trace evidence could make the difference in finding the identity of his murderer.
    ‘The CT scan revealed depressed fractures right here.’ Sylvia Baron indicated his left temple where the visible gashes were located. ‘His attacker hit just the right spot and he hit it hard. Two distinct blows. The first may have knocked the victim off his feet, but it was the second one that got the artery and caused a massive bleed. The worst I’ve seen that didn’t involve a vehicle or a bullet.’
    Judging by the visible tissue injury, Jess would have thought he’d have had a concussion, a bad headache and little more. Unfortunately, Mr Baker hadn’t been so lucky. But Sylvia’s conclusions confirmed the theory that Frances Wallace couldn’t have been the one wielding the murder weapon.
    ‘It’s rare,’ Sylvia continued, ‘but I’d say he was dead in under five minutes. The good news is he may have died happy.’ Her lips quirked. ‘There were significant traces of semen and vaginal fluid in his boxers.’
    So Frances Wallace wasn’t the only female visitor to show up at Scott Baker’s office on the night of his murder. ‘No wonder he turned his surveillance system off.’
    ‘When the cat’s away the rat will play,’ Sylvia said with a sour glance at the victim.
    Couldn’t exactly blame her. She’d lost her husband of ten years to another woman.
    ‘Too early for any toxicology?’ Jess knew better than to ask but she couldn’t help herself and it felt like a good way to move on from Baker’s indiscretions.
    ‘Just the BAT,’ Sylvia offered. ‘Point - oh - five. Under the legal limit of intoxication for operating a vehicle but the man definitely had a drink before that wallop to the side of his head. Which didn’t help his survival odds. Apparently it didn’t help his morals either.’
    ‘There was no alcohol in the office or in his car.’ Jess resisted the urge to frown and add to the wrinkle population already residing on her face. ‘I guess the killer opted not to leave that behind.’
    ‘He did, however’ – Sylvia indicated the gash in Baker’s temple again – ‘leave you the murder weapon.’
    ‘The trophy?’ Jess had thought as much.
    Sylvia nodded. ‘I spoke with the detective overseeing the analysis at the lab. Whoever cleaned the trophy last used a wood polish on or near the base. It sat on the desk – maybe the polish came from the desk.’ She smiled. ‘There’s just no way to think of every little possibility when you’re trying to commit the perfect murder, especially if one’s thought processes are still hazy after orgasm. At any rate, the desk was cleaned recently and furniture polish was used liberally. Maybe the killer missed one of his or her prints as well in the wipe-down. The lab’s still working on that aspect.’
    ‘There’s always one more thing the killer should have thought of,’ Jess agreed.
    ‘I don’t want to get your hopes up,’ Sylvia went on, ‘but a trace of the victim’s blood was discovered between the marble base of the trophy and the miniature brass statue of a businessman. So the wipe - down wasn’t as thorough as the killer likely intended.’
    ‘Sounds