Everywhere She Turns Read Online Free PDF Page B

marks. There was an abrasion on her left cheek. Bruising on her upper arms as if someone had grabbed her and maybe shaken her. CJ’s chest tightened in agony. She should have been here . . . shouldn’t have let this happen.
    She lifted her gaze to the ME’s. “Did you find anything else?”
    “Minor scrapes and tiny tissue tears along her shins and thighs, possibly indicating that she may have been running through the underbrush in the wooded area where her body was discovered.”
    Running
. Fury bolted through CJ. “Have you even questioned Banks yet?” She glared at Braddock, wanted him to see the accusation in her eyes. He’d said Banks was on his suspect list, but that told her nothing. “You have to know he did this.”
    “We’re still working on tracking him down.”
    Was he kidding? That he remained totally calm and utterly rational made her want to scream. He wouldn’t be so damned unfazed if the victim had been a resident of the Twickenham District or the Ledges.
    “Until we’ve confirmed cause of death, reviewed any evidence—”
    “Banks has always been a bully.” Who did Braddock think he was talking to? CJ had known Banks since he was a snot-nosed kid. “I can’t even tell you the number of times he’s roughed her up. Long before you showed interest in her life,” she added pointedly. “I can see him chasing her down like an animal and then humiliating her by leaving the drug paraphernalia.” Sick bastard.
    “CJ”—Braddock used that tone, the one a parent uses when gently scolding a child—“there are certain ordered steps in any investigation. Rest assured—”
    “That bastard killed her.” CJ peeled off the gloves. “His arrest is the only step I care about.” With a final, aching look at Shelley, CJ promised to make sure Banks paid.
    She was finished here. “Thank you, Dr. Dobbins.” CJ headed for the exit, tossing her gloves in the receptacle near the door. She would find Banks and she would make him tell the truth. He’d lived in the mill village his whole life. Finding him shouldn’t be that difficult.
    “CJ,” Braddock called after her.
    She didn’t turn around or slow her departure. She had nothing else to say to him. Unfortunately, she understood all too well how this investigation would go—the same way it had gone when her father was shot dead on the sidewalk in front of their house. The same way it went when her mother died of what was labeled an accidental overdose. No one would really investigate the case. Just another dead lowlife from the village.
    Good riddance.
    Braddock caught up with her in the corridor and fell into step beside her. “I will find and arrest the person responsible for this. But to do that, I need the autopsy results and evidence. Right now we don’t have either.”
    CJ stopped and turned to glare at him. “There’s no evidence? What about fingerprints? Hairs? Fibers? You haven’t found anything?”
    The resignation on his face gave her the answer even before he spoke. “Unless the body gives us something, we have nothing. No prints, no trace evidence from the scene at all. We’re in the process of a third sweep. We could get lucky. But I’ve never relied on luck to close a case.”
    This was insane! “Wait.” CJ should have thought to ask this already. “How long had she . . . been there before she was found?”
    “It’s been hot as hell. That escalates things. And, like I said, it rained before her body was discovered.”
    CJ held up both hands for him to stop overexplaining. “Just give me the preliminary estimate.”
    “Ten to twelve hours, possibly longer.”
    CJ had gotten the call from Shelley around two Saturday morning. That meant her sister had been murdered later that morning—well before noon if the preliminary estimate of time of death was accurate.
    She should have taken that call. Should have called Shelley back.
    Those mental walls she had used to keep her emotions in check shrank around her now, making it