Missings, The Read Online Free PDF Page B

make a report until he’d been gone for two days.” Chase rarely chose a wait-and-see attitude when a person went missing. Especially a kid. He’d much prefer to waste a little bit of time than come in too late.
    A knock on the half-open door and the undeniable bulk of their commanding officer presented itself. Aspen Falls Chief of Police Cornelius Whitman.
    “Please excuse my interruption of your meeting, Lieutenant,” the chief said.
    Butz looked like the kid caught spraying graffiti on the playground. Had Whit heard any of the exchange? Wouldn’t matter. The chief knew all about the overweight, past-due-for-retirement Lieutenant Melvin Butz.
    “I have some pertinent information for Detective Waters and I wanted to get it to him ASAP.”
    Butz nodded and squinted suspiciously at Chase. Chase bit back a laugh. He had absolutely no designs on Butz’s job.
    “The body of a young Hispanic female was discovered this afternoon. Could be your missing girl. There was no ID.” Whit checked the paperwork he’d brought with him before handing it to Chase. “Her heart, both kidneys, and lungs had been removed.”
    The parent in Chase kicked into gear and he felt the horror, followed by anger and resolve. Then his professional self resurfaced. “Any connection to our other victim?”
    “Other than being gutted like a fish and left somewhere to rot?” Whit asked.
    “Yeah. Other than that.”

Chapter Nine
    Ute Indian Burial Ground
    Thursday, September 20
    The body had been found in the old Ute Burial Ground southwest of town. Chase parked his SUV on the shoulder by the other county cars, clicked off the ignition in the middle of a Coltrane riff, and hiked up the hill. Graves of Ute Indians, most still marked by piles of rocks, dotted the hillside.
    He shook his head and tucked the half-eaten red licorice twist in his pocket. Wherever he worked a murder the space felt desecrated. But here? Something sour and burning worked its way up his throat into his mouth. The Ute had called this place the Shining Mountains. Both the land and the Indians had been here long before gold brought prospectors, civilization, and ski resorts.
    And murder.
    Crime scene tape surrounded a relatively small area, and Jax Taylor—the Medical Examiner—stood in the middle of it, alternately taking photos and diagramming the site. Chase watched her work. You do enough of these scenes and you learn to point and shoot with one hand.
    When Dr. Taylor saw Chase coming toward her she let the camera fall against her chest and waited for him. Pulled down the mask covering her face.
    “Detective.”
    “Hey, Doc.”
    She stepped to the side and allowed him to get his initial impressions. Some detectives liked the ME to tell them everything. Chase liked to see things for himself, and Jax Taylor knew the way he preferred to work.
    He saw a young woman, her face chewed beyond recognition. From the look of her nude body, and judging mostly by her hands, which were smooth and unwrinkled, she was in her late teens to early twenties. He felt a flash of the horror she must have felt. The fear. He wondered if she’d been killed quickly or tortured.
    Long black hair tangled and matted. Hispanic. Could she be Rachelle Benavides?
    “Clothes or ID?”
    “Not near the body.”
    He walked around to the other side of the dead girl. Squatted to get a closer look. It was like someone had done the autopsy already, but hadn’t replaced the organs. A long, deep incision, from just below her neck to her abdomen gaped open. The exposed bones of the sternum reflected clean slices.
    Shit. Chase closed off the part of his brain that wanted to cry out and rage against what this young woman had gone through. She would come to him in his dreams. She would be there when he woke in the mornings. But right now the best thing he could do for her was act as her advocate. Do his job.
    He closed his eyes and heard the crackle and pop sounds of the masses of maggots who claimed their part