Fatal Forensic Investigation, page 1
The killer was after Scarlet.
Again.
Jace entered Scarlet’s room and found the security guard on the floor, clutching a stab wound.
Scarlet lay in her bed, her wild eyes darting back and forth.
Jace moved to her side. “You okay?”
“Tried. To. Smother. Me.” Her words came in between ragged breaths.
“Who was your attacker?”
“Who are you?” She bit her lip. “Who am I?”
“Scarlet, you don’t remember?”
She shook her head.
Lord, no! The assault must have given her amnesia.
The attacker had failed, but a thought bounced in Jace’s pounding head.
The Coastline Strangler had targeted Scarlet Wells, and now she didn’t know who she was or what the killer looked like.
Their only hope of determining CLS’s identity had been ripped away—along with her memory.
Darlene L. Turner is an award-winning author who lives with her husband, Jeff, in Ontario, Canada. Her love of suspense began when she read her first Nancy Drew book. She’s turned that passion into her writing and believes readers will be captured by her plots, inspired by her strong characters and moved by her inspirational message. Visit Darlene at www.darlenelturner.com, where there’s suspense beyond borders.
Books by Darlene L. Turner
Love Inspired Suspense
Border Breach
Abducted in Alaska
Lethal Cover-Up
Safe House Exposed
Fatal Forensic Investigation
Visit the Author Profile page at LoveInspired.com.
Fatal Forensic Investigation
Darlene L. Turner
But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.
—Isaiah 64:8
For Mom and Dad Turner.
Thank you for your support and encouragement.
Love you.
Acknowledgments
There are always so many to thank when writing a book.
Suspense Squad sisters—Dana, Shannon, Sami, Virginia, Loretta, Patty and Hope—thank you for all the brainstorming and your friendships. I’m grateful God put us together.
Thank you to Carrie Stuart Parks for your expertise and advice on forensic art.
Chief Constable Ray—thank you for answering my questions on Oak Bay and your department.
Tina James and Tamela Hancock Murray, thank you for your continual guidance.
Jeff, you are my handsome PR guy. I love you.
Jesus, thank You for sculpting me in Your image.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Excerpt from Ranch Under Siege by Sommer Smith
ONE
The Coastline Strangler’s face emerged one feature at a time on forensic artist Scarlet Wells’s sketch pad. A tingle skittered down her arms, spreading into her fingertips as the creepy, evil eyes stared back at her. Eyes that would remain etched in her mind—forever.
Assigned to Vancouver Island’s major crimes task force from Whitehorse, Yukon, Constable Scarlet Wells had arrived in Coral Bay, British Columbia, an hour ago and proceeded directly to the hospital to question Lila Canfield, the only witness to the serial killer’s crimes. None of the other four victims had survived the killer’s deadly grip on their throats. Lila shared that the man the news had deemed CLS had never spoken a word, which scared the woman the most. Had the eerie silence spooked Lila into forgetting vital details of her attacker’s face? Scarlet had to get her to reveal more specifics to complete an accurate sketch in order to identify the killer taking innocent lives.
Scarlet needed a perfect sketch. So far, the witness had struggled with retelling her story as she lay paralyzed by terror on her hospital bed. No one would blame her after the ordeal she must have gone through. She’d barely escaped with her life. But Scarlet needed the woman to relax in order to proceed.
“You’re okay, Lila. I’m here.” Scarlet spoke in a hushed tone to calm the woman’s nerves. She paused, waiting for Lila to take a breath. “Can you look at the facial features again in the book I gave you? It will help you remember CLS’s face.”
Lila recoiled, pulling her legs to her chest and folding her hands around her neck as if protecting herself from an unseen attacker. Fear returned and exploded in her widened eyes.
Scarlet put her pencil down, closed her sketch pad and moved closer to the bed. If she’d learned anything in the past seven years as a forensic artist, it was how to get a witness to trust her. Scarlet pulled Lila’s hands away from her neck and took them in hers. “It’s okay, Lila. I’ve got you. You’re safe here. The team kept your condition confidential. The killer doesn’t know you’re alive.”
Scarlet hoped she spoke the truth. With news of this serial killer running rampant, details could leak to the public easily through social media, no matter how hard the task force tried to keep them under wraps.
Lila flattened her legs on the bed and tugged the covers closer to her neck. “I just don’t want to make a mistake and send the wrong person to jail.”
“This is only a drawing of your memory. I won’t let anyone innocent be arrested based on the sketch.” Scarlet picked up her tools once again. “I need you to start at the beginning and leave nothing out, even if you think it’s trivial. Everything is important.”
Lila nodded. “Over the past few days, I’ve had an inkling someone was following me.”
“Why did you think that?” Scarlet wrote Lila’s exact words in her notebook.
“Just a sense. I can’t explain it. Anyway, last night I went for a hike along the Bull Thistle Trail, and out of nowhere I felt a prick like a bee sting.”
“Were there other hikers along the trail?”
“Yes, lots at that time of day. Within seconds, I was woozy and found myself falling. Someone caught me, and that’s the last thing I remember before waking up with hands around my neck.”
Scarlet wrote down Lila’s words and “drugged?” beside them. Had the team found any indication of drugs in the other victims?
She squeezed Lila’s hand. “You’re doing great. What happened next?”
“I couldn’t breathe and started to lose consciousness.” She snapped her fingers. “Wait, I heard a noise, like someone stepping on a twig.”
Something must have startled CLS. That’s why the killer made a mistake by not ensuring Lila was dead. Scarlet wrote “find that person” beside Lila’s quote of what happened.
“Could you tell where you were?” Not that Scarlet didn’t already have that detail, but she wanted to find out if CLS usually killed his victims elsewhere.
“On a beach. I heard the waves and felt sand beneath me. He squeezed harder, and I passed out. The next thing I remember is waking up here in the hospital. God was looking out for me.”
Scarlet flattened her lips as her fingers tightened around her pencil. God? Did Lila really believe that? Scarlet had once, but not after the night that robbed her of her faith. The secret she’d kept from everyone still haunted her after two years. She muzzled the memory and flipped a page in her facial identification book. “Can you pick out the shape of your attacker’s nose?”
Scarlet spent the next two hours drawing the Coastline Strangler’s face, revising along the way with Lila’s modifications to the features of her attacker. “Last question, what did their hair look like?”
“Chin length, straggly, side-swept bang. I’m a hairstylist, so I remember that detail well.”
Scarlet sketched the hair and held up her book. “Like this?”
Lila leaned forward, studying the face. “The nose is a bit wider.”
Scarlet erased and made an adjustment. Moments later, she held it up again. “Better?”
Lila nodded as a tear escaped. “That’s my attacker.”
“You did great.” Scarlet signed and dated her sketch. Now to take it to the task force. “Lila, can I get you—”
A fire alarm screeched.
Scarlet’s pulse zinged, her muscles tensing.
Lila raised into a seated position. “Do we need to evacuate? I can barely walk.”
“Let me check. I’ll be right back.” Scarlet dashed to the entrance and peeked out. The hallway was clear of fire or smoke. She veered toward the nurses’ station as a masked patient-care worker brushed by and glanced at her for a split second before entering Lila’s room.
Something about the person’s expression niggled at her, but she failed to put her finger on it. She approached the bustling station and raised her creds. “Constable Scarlet Wells. Is this a fire drill? I’m interviewing Miss Canfield. Are we evacuating?”
The nurse nodded. “Yes, unless we find out otherwise. If you could help with Lila, we’d appreciate it. We’re understaffed today.”
She pointed toward the room. “But—”
Scarlet froze. The mention of Lila’s name triggered a memory.
The Coastline Strangler’s eyes.
The same eyes as the masked employee who’d just walked into Lila’s room.
Scarlet sucked in a breath and turned to find the guarding officer’s chair empty. Where was he?
She pounded the desk. “It’s a false alarm. Call 911. Now! Lila is in danger.” She fumbled for her weapon, but it wasn’t at her side. Scarlet had stuffed it into her suitcase earlier, as she didn’t want it exposed in the hospital. She barely ever used the nine-millimeter. Stupid.
Scarlet raced into the room and skidded to a stop at the entrance.
The masked attendant held Lila’s flailing arms down as tremors shook her body.
“Get away from her!” Scarlet yelled.
The attacker looked in Scarlet’s direction, giving Lila an opening to pull the mask down. Moments later, her body’s convulsions worsened before her heart monitor flatlined.
Their only witness had just been silenced.
The attendant turned, withdrew a gun and pointed it at Scarlet.
The Coastline Strangler glared at her, smirking, before pulling the trigger.
Adrenaline kicked in and Scarlet dived, but not quickly enough to evade the bullet as it grazed her forehead. She stumbled into a table and whacked her head on the side, crumbling to the floor. Struggling to stay conscious, she lay still and prayed CLS would think her dead.
A ripping sound filled the room, and she squinted. CLS had torn a page from her sketchbook, thrown it into the garbage can and lit a match.
No! The sketch was vital for their investigation. However, she’d now seen CLS’s face and would rely on her sharp memory to redraw the features. Once again, she closed her eyes.
Seconds later, stomping feet passed and exited the room.
More footfalls sounded.
She opened her eyes to see a uniformed man stopped in the entryway. Coral Bay police officer Jace Allen.
A man from her past. She wanted to tell him to run after the Coastline Strangler.
Her vision clouded as her head hammered. Scarlet raised her hand and pointed her index finger. She opened her mouth, but words failed to come out.
The stabbing pain increased. Her hand dropped, limp by her side.
Darkness enveloped her, hurtling her into blackness.
* * *
Smoke filled the private hospital room, assaulting Jace’s nose. The fire alarm wailed, playing havoc with his migraine-prone head. He scrambled to Scarlet’s side as the nursing staff bypassed him and ran to Lila. He guessed what they’d find—a deceased witness. How had the Coastline Strangler known she was alive? They had kept that information from the public.
Jace found Scarlet’s pulse. Thank You, God. He yelled for help and dashed to locate a fire extinguisher. Finding one, he returned to the room and dispensed the foam into the garbage can. The flames extinguished, leaving only ashes and a tiny edge of paper. He used his pen and moved debris aside to get a better look. A name caught his attention.
Constable Scarlet Wells.
It was her composite sketch of the Coastline Strangler, but their killer’s description was burned beyond recognition. Jace prayed Scarlet could remember details to recreate the person’s face. It would be their only source of identification, since Lila Canfield was now dead.
Jace had suggested Scarlet’s sought-after skills for their task force. She was the best of the best and what the team required to catch the Coastline Strangler. The serial killer had now taken five women’s lives on Vancouver Island, mostly around the normally peaceful Coral Bay area. Jace’s leader—Chief Constable Ray Carter—had tasked Jace to the major crimes unit and demanded he get the job done. This killer must be stopped.
Jace had immediately thought of Scarlet, his college crush, and after they’d found Lila alive, he’d requested his chief contact her. Jace wasn’t sure if Scarlet would come if she’d known he’d been the source of the invitation for her to join the team. They had fought constantly in college, and those years had filled him with remorse and regret. However, that was in the past. Jace had become a new man after he’d given his life over to God.
“Step aside, Constable.” A doctor knelt and began her examination of Scarlet.
Jace moved out into the hall and allowed the medical staff to take over. He dug his cell phone from his pocket and hit his chief’s speed-dial number.
Hospital security arrived at the nurses’ station and huddled together, discussing the situation.
“Carter here,” the fiftysomething chief said. “What do you have for me, Allen?”
Carter’s gruff voice hid his real persona of compassion for his officers and the residents of the tight-knit Coral Bay community.
“Bad news. Lila was killed and Constable Wells injured.” He explained the attack and the fire that had obliterated Scarlet’s sketch.
Carter huffed. “How did someone get by Constable Lewis?”
Jace noted the empty chair. “No idea. He’s not at his post.”
“Something’s happened. Doug would never leave a witness unattended. Find him. Contact hospital security and ask them to check video surveillance. Remember what’s at stake, Allen.”
Leave it to the chief to remind him of his possible promotion if he solved this case. Weren’t the lives of these women more important? “You mean keeping the public safe?”
A male attendant ran by with a gurney.
“That, too. Is Constable Wells awake?”
Seconds later, the doctor emerged, following the male attendant, who was wheeling the unconscious Scarlet on a bed.
“They’re tending to her now. Gotta run. I’ll update you later.” Jace punched off and dialed Constable Lewis’s number.
His coworker’s Star Wars ringtone rang nearby. Jace followed the sound to a supply closet next to the victim’s room. He unleashed his Glock 17 and eased the door open.
Constable Doug Lewis lay slumped in a chair, gagged and tied.
Jace cleared the tiny room, holstered his weapon and felt Lewis’s wrist.
Steady pulse.
Jace gently nudged the constable. “Lewis, can you hear me?” He yanked the gag away.
The man stirred and slowly opened his eyes.
“Thank God, you’re okay. What happened?” Jace untied the ropes.
Lewis rubbed his head. “I heard a crash behind the supply door and went to investigate. Got clocked from behind. Is Lila safe?”
“Afraid not. Killer took her out and attacked Constable Wells.”
Lewis hung his head and mumbled, “It’s all my fault.”
Jace squeezed his shoulder. “You can’t blame yourself, friend. This person is cunning, but how did they learn Lila was still alive?”
Lewis’s jaw dropped. “Do you think we have a leak?”
Jace shrugged as heat kindled in his body. The thought of a fellow officer betraying them fueled his agitation. “Not sure. I’m hoping to get hospital security to check their video footage. You need to get examined.” He helped him stand.
“I’m fine.” Lewis’s knees buckled.
“No, you’re not. Come on.” Jace led his coworker to the busy nurses’ station. A security guard positioned himself to the side in a protective stance. Nurses huddled together, discussing their patients’ conditions. Jace interrupted them and explained the constable had been attacked. They assured him they would look after Lewis.
Jace also inquired where they’d taken Scarlet. He memorized the room number and then approached the security guard, raising his badge. “I’m Constable Allen. You are?”
The slender guard shifted his feet. “Walt Watkins. How can I help you?”
“I’m investigating the victim’s death and wanted security to check their video footage for any suspicious acts. Can you make that happen?”
Walt folded his arms. “I’ll contact my superior.”
“Thank you.”
Walt unclipped his radio from his service belt. “Be right back.” He walked around the corner and returned within minutes. “My leader said he’d check and then come see you. You can wait here.” He gestured toward a small waiting room.
