Skin Dancer Read Online Free PDF

If it was just lowlifes killing each other, none of the political factions were involved. It made sense.
    â€œYou know what’s at stake here?” Gordon asked her.
    â€œI do. If I need his help, I’ll be sure and ask.”
    Gordon rubbed his clean–shaven cheek and smoothed one side of his moustache. He always looked immaculate. A rancher who’d spent most of his life working from sunup to sunset, he was lean, sharp featured and nobody’s fool. If he took this case from her, she’d never recover in the department. He’d gone out on a limb to hire her, and now he was standing with the saw in his hand.
    â€œI can do this. I have to do it.” She spoke quietly.
    â€œOrtiz talked to me yesterday. He said the same thing.”
    For once Jake’s interference was an asset. She’d have to remember to thank him—after she beat him with the high heels she’d have to wear to the cocktail party.
    The sheriff sighed. “Then call the crime lab. Gus Langstrom said he’d be in early to talk to you. Tell ‘em to put a rush on the DNA evidence and the prints.”
    â€œThanks, sheriff.” She started to say more but decided that the best way to show her gratitude was to solve the case, and in record time.
    At her desk she felt Scott Amos watching her. She gave him a smile and mouthed, How’s Betty Lou?
    â€œGlad you caught this case instead of me.” He shook his head. “She’d have a conniption if I got stranded in those hills and couldn’t get home. Losing the last two…Anyway, she said you’re welcome to dinner any time.”
    â€œThanks. Home cooking is in short supply at my place.” Rachel dialed the lab, and waited for Langstrom to answer and identify himself.
    â€œWhat do you have for me, Gus?”
    â€œI’ve e–mailed the photos to you, and I’ll send a hard set by courier. The smaller man was dead before his skin was removed. The silver ornament was attached to the victim’s chest with a porcupine quill, as you thought. The feather, which was wrapped and attached with standard fishing line, came from a great horned owl, illegal to own because of the endangered species law. Only Natives can own them, but as you know, there are always illegal sources. Also, and this was the most interesting of all, we did manage to get some prints from around the bodies. There was a pattern, all clockwise. And whoever made the prints wore the victims’ boots.”
    Rachel felt a chill. The killer, or killers, was clever. “What about prints from the bodies?”
    â€œNothing. The killer had to be wearing gloves. Whoever it was made sure not to leave any forensic evidence. The tool used to skin the men had a serrated blade, exactly like what a hunter might use. Jesus, that must have taken a while.”
    â€œAnd the DNA?”
    â€œStill waiting on that, Rachel.”
    â€œThanks, Gus. You guys make a tough job a little easier.”
    â€œPut that in writing and send it to my boss. Documentation never hurts at raise time.”
    She hung up and spent the rest of the morning checking with law enforcement agencies around the country for similar crimes. She ran the exact method of murder through VICAP, the Violent Criminal Apprehension Program. It was a long exercise that yielded no match, so she ran background on John Henry James. His cabin was so far back in the wilderness that it would be faster to trailer in a four–wheeler than walk it. She’d wait until the next day to talk with him.
    She’d just started an Internet search on militant anti–hunting groups when Jake walked in. He put a folder on her desk. “This is a list of the most wanted poachers in the area. I’ll give you all the help I can, Rachel.”
    He waited for her to open it. At the top of the list was Hank Welford, followed by about thirty other names.
    â€œI think Hank is one of the dead men.” Jake sat on