Consumed Read Online Free PDF Page B

doesn’t come in and do it. That means us.”
    “Got it,” I said.
    “Looks like we’re here,” she said. Beth nodded her chin toward the windshield.
    I looked out. Agent Clifford was pulling behind a sheriff’s white Dodge Charger with a green stripe running down the side. We pulled to the curb behind Clifford alongside a three-story red-brick building with no windows.
    Beth and I got out.
    “The entrance is up here,” Agent Clifford said. He pointed up the hill a ways, at a couple buildings that looked to be a bit newer but were still red brick. As we walked up, I realized they were all connected as one large building. I glanced farther up the block, to the building on the corner—a red-brick two story that looked to be a good hundred-plus years old. The roofline of the building had a number of ornate dormers. The top of the building had a steeple. It might have been an old jail. I glanced around further.
    “Hmm,” I said.
    “Hmm what?” Beth asked.
    “Look around. Up, down, across the street up there, and behind us. Not one building in sight other than that parking garage that isn’t made out of red brick. Kind of weird. Must have had a hell of a sale on red bricks about a hundred years ago.”
    “Yeah,” she said. “Check that out.” Beth pointed across the street toward a building in the distance. Another red-brick building stood with its entire side covered by a huge old mural of what the downtown area we were standing in had looked like back in the day—it was about the same.
    I shrugged. We followed Agent Clifford into the building, checked in at the front desk, and waited. A silent five minutes later, an older tall, overweight man with short white hair and a short white beard approached. He wore black slacks and a white long-sleeved shirt with black breast pockets. A black tie hung from his neck. He had star-covered epaulettes running up his shoulders above his sheriff’s department patches. A badge was affixed over his heart.
    “Tom,” he said.
    Agent Clifford stood and shook the man’s hand. “This is Agent Hank Rawlings and Agent Beth Harper from Virginia.”
    “Pleasure,” he said. “Chief Deputy August Whissell. Auggie works too.” He reached out and shook Beth’s hand and mine. “Let’s head back to my office.”
    We followed him through the building and up a flight of stairs. He led us to a large office that overlooked the street we’d parked on. A big wooden desk with two guest chairs sat in the back of the room. Miscellaneous awards covered the area behind his desk. Photos of him with what I assumed to be prominent local people adorned the walls. Two black button-tufted leather chairs sat near the doorway we’d entered from. Agent Clifford took one, slid it next to the others near the chief deputy’s desk, and had a seat. Beth and I took the guest chairs beside him.
    Whissell closed his office door and took a seat in the big leather chair behind his desk. “You two were informed that another body had been found today.”
    I nodded.
    “I filled them in,” Agent Clifford said.
    “What can you tell us?” Beth asked.
    “The body was found out on Buck Smith Hill Road, out by Oakridge.”
    The location did nothing for me, but I pulled out my notepad and wrote it down. “Have an address out there?” I asked.
    “Off the top of my head, I don’t know. It’s about ten miles or so from here. We’re getting a case file put together on it as we speak. I’ll make sure you get a copy.”
    “Thanks,” I said. “These were female remains again, correct?” I asked.
    “Yes.”
    “And tossed alongside the road like the others?” I asked. “Dismembered?”
    “Yes to both questions. Just a torso and head—no arms, no legs. And the remains were found about ten yards off the side of the road. She probably would have gone unnoticed for a while if she weren’t wearing a hot-pink skirt. It’s what caught the eye of the passerby that stopped and found her.”
    “So same as