Hunt and Prey (Kelsey's Burden Series Book 8) by Kaylie Hunter (novels to read for beginners txt) 📕

but imagine Roseline was at home alone, and she opened her door to her attacker. The killer trips or tackles her, but before pouncing, he gives her space enough to attempt crawling away.”

“To get her on her stomach,” Chambers said.

“And after she’s on her stomach—” I pointed to Tasha and watched her jump on top of Bert, crawling up his body to throw her forearm against his neck, “—then he chokes her until she’s unconscious.”

“But she was stabbed—” Bones started to say.

“Pauly shows up,” I said, cutting him off and continuing, “before the killer has injected the morphine. Pauly and the killer fight, shifting the altercation into the dining room. The killer gets Pauly in the same position and chokes him unconscious.” I looked around the audience. “Now he’s got two bodies, but only one syringe of morphine.”

“He gives it to Pauly,” Maggie said, her face brightening with understanding. “Pauly was the bigger physical threat. The killer had to deal with him first.”

“Agreed. But after injecting Pauly, he still has to kill Roseline.”

“Wait,” Tasha said, jumping up, staggering a bit to the side when she did. “I need a knife for this part of the demonstration.”

“You’re not getting a knife, Tasha,” Chambers said, chuckling as he shook his head. “Here’s a straw.”

“Fine.” Tasha held the straw over Bert’s body in a tight grip, ready to pounce. “Okay, Kid, I’m ready.”

“You know her wounds better than any of us,” I told Tasha. “Go ahead with the demonstration.”

“There were two short jabs to the back,” Tasha said while demonstrating. “One bounced off the shoulder blade. The other hit a rib.” She rolled Bert over. “She was then stabbed a half dozen times in the stomach—about three to four inches deep. But the deeper wounds were on her chest, neck, and face. I’m theorizing that’s when the killer doubled his hands on the knife and…” She sat next to the body and turned her hands several directions. “No, this isn’t right. I need the report.”

I walked over to the table and pulled the file. I opened it to the page where she’d diagramed the body’s wounds.

“Oh, no. I don’t want to demonstrate anymore.” She crawled back to the coffee table. Finding her drink empty, she grabbed my full glass which I’d left on the table.

Kelsey stood and walked over, taking the file to study the diagram. After she reviewed it, she handed it to Maggie, before finishing for Tasha. “The killer then straddled the body, and likely stabbed the victim with full force another fourteen times. In some of the wounds, it appeared the handle of the knife was driven into the body.”

“Why?” Anne asked, looking horrified.

“It’s called overkill,” Maggie said. “Normally it’s a sign of intense rage, hatred even.”

“But in this case,” I said, “I don’t think the overkill was hate based. Just like the choking, the killer realized he enjoyed sitting on top of his victim while stabbing them. It’s possible he was excited sexually.”

“That’s sick,” Tech said.

“Welcome to my world,” I told him.

“What about the blood?” Tasha asked. “How did Pauly get Roseline’s blood on his hand and clothes if he died first?”

“It was a small amount of blood compared to how she died. What if she had a nose bleed?”

Maggie dropped the autopsy file on the table and looked over at me. “You’re thinking from the forced entry?”

“Yes. Roseline opens the door, expecting to see Pauly, but when she sees the killer, she rushes to close it. The killer then either slams his weight into the door, knocking the door into her, or he punches her after he’s inside. By the time Pauly arrives, Roseline is unconscious on the floor. The killer had heard Pauly coming and hid. Pauly rushes to Roseline’s aid which would explain the blood trace. Then the killer attacks Pauly.”

“If the killer really did enjoy the stabbing,” Maggie said as she grabbed her glass, “then we’ll have more bloody bodies soon.”

Kelsey’s face scrunched in disgust. “You could be right. But we still need to figure out who hired him to kill Roseline in the first place. And finding out who wanted her dead could lead us to the killer’s identity.”

“Maggie,” I said, looking her way, “can you con the Marshals into giving you the next of kin contacts for Roseline? I’d like to talk to someone close to her. Figure out what she was really like. What made her tick.”

“I’ll do better than that. I’ll make the call and get the CliffsNotes back to you.”

For a split second, I considered arguing with her, but then realized, who better to make the call than a profiler? Instead, I turned toward Gibson as I remembered the truck stop manager mentioning leaving phone messages for Roseline. “Was Roseline’s cellphone at the apartment? I don’t remember seeing it on the evidence log.”

Gibson’s face paled as he visibly gulped. “I never saw it in the apartment.”

“Damn it,” Quille complained, pulling his phone out. “I’ll get someone to pull the phone records and trace the phone.”

Gibson shrank back into his chair.

“Gibson?” Chambers said in a calm voice as he leaned forward to look at him. “You’re new. You’ll make mistakes. The question is, will you remember next time?”

Gibson gestured a thumbs up. “Find the phone. Got it.”

“Cellphone, wallet, shoes,” I explained to him, counting them out on my fingers. “Every murder scene, you need to identify the location of those three things. And if the victim is found inside their home, also find their laptop.”

Gibson picked up a folder, opening it to review the details. “Her wallet was in her purse which was on top of her bedroom dresser. Her laptop was lying on the bed. There was a pair of shoes next to the dresser. The victim was barefoot when we found her.”

“If we’re