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“She received permission to take some pictures of the garden at night.”
“For a client?”
“If so, that client isn’t named in the file.”
Faith took a sip of her champagne and let the sparkling liquid dance across her tastebuds. “So she was alone. Our killer would have had to know that.”
“We’ll make sure to talk to the manager of the garden,” Michael said. “Chicago P.D.’s already warned him to expect us.”
“Good. What about Samantha Reynard?”
“Yoga instructor for a place called Lake Yoga. The studio’s about ten miles south of the garden. Both places are located within a mile of Lake Michigan. Not sure if that means anything.”
“It might. We’ll need to find out if anyone knew both women. Maybe one of Samantha’s students works at the garden.”
“Or maybe Cassidy Holt was one of Samantha’s students too.”
Faith nodded. “So we’ll follow up on that connection. In the meantime, we have two women in the same age group, both attractive and stripped naked, then posed. No sign of sexual assault, but I will be surprised if sex isn’t a component somehow.”
“They’re both attractive,” Michael agreed, “but both very different. Cassidy is petite and has long brunette hair and a curvier body type. Samantha is tall and athletic with a slender body type. Short hair too, close to a bob cut.” Faith glanced up at him. “What? If sex is a component of this crime, then those differences will matter. People usually have a preferred bodytype they’re attracted to. We have two different body types here. Both attractive, but a different kind of attractive.”
Faith shrugged. “I’ll allow the speculation. But it’s just as possible that our guy doesn’t feel attractive. He might not have had any success with women. If that’s the case, he won’t be picky.”
“I don’t buy that,” Michael challenged. “Serial killers can be indiscriminate, but I don’t think this guy’s indiscriminate.”
“He is in some ways,” Faith countered, “and not in others. Bodies posed carefully; powder scattered carelessly. Women stripped naked but different body types.”
“Good point,” Michael conceded. “What about the cause of death? Snapping someone’s neck is pretty vicious.”
“Yes,” Faith agreed. “It’s also clean and quick.”
“He wanted to avoid soiling the bodies?”
“Maybe. Probably. If he stripped them naked, then their forms were important to him. He wouldn’t want them marred.”
“Except for the ugly purple bruising and the misshapen lumps in their neck.”
“Everything’s a compromise.”
Michael sighed. “Well, whoever this guy is, let’s get him off the streets before more people end up exhibited like that.”
“I second that motion.”
***
They were met at O'Hare by a quiet, serious young man who informed them that Detective Hilary was dealing with a family emergency but would meet them first thing in the morning. He handed them the keys to a police cruiser, then left to join his partner, who waited in another cruiser.
“Must be a hell of an emergency,” Michael observed.
“Detectives at the bigger police departments tend to resent the FBI interfering in their cases,” Faith said. “Hilary might be pissed that his bosses called us.”
“Maybe. Either way, I hope he gets his shit figured out soon. This guy’s already moving fast.”
“They all move fast these days.”
He frowned at her. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
They got into the cruiser and drove to the garden. The Chicago Botanic Garden was located in Glencoe a half hour from the Airport. They reached it just as the sun dipped completely behind the western horizon. The garden had closed an hour ago, and when the three of them entered, they found only the maintenance crew poking around the garden.
