Trail of Evidence

By Velvet Hammer

Sheriff Sonny Wilson looked at the body tied to the side of the fishing boat. Nothing like this had ever happened in his county. The smell of death hung in the air as the South Georgia summer heat and humidity began to rise. Several murders, a prominent lawyer with a sex addiction, a suicide, and a séance all combine to rock Sheriff Wilson’s world. Bodies are popping up, not just in Braley County, but all over the country. Women are posed with hands in a praying position. They are all found in the water. Is this a move to cleanse the victim? Or is it more sinister; an attempt to destroy the trail of evidence?
Wilson’s approach to investigation is reckless and could well result in destruction of many lives in the county. Wilson didn’t know it yet, but the body was in the water too long. The process of identification was nearly impossible. No clothes leaving nothing to trace. The trail of evidence was nearly gone. Or was it? The victims missing finger found at the bottom of the river had a ring with initials. Was this enough to go on or would the trail end as an unsolved murder? When other bodies with a similar modis operandi begin to surface in other parts of the country the trail of evidence presented too much similarity to the Braley County case to ignore.
Was this a lone deranged killer, or is this a serial murder case? Over Wilson’s objections, Georgia Bureau of Investigation’s chief profiler, Garner Lee Jackson, joins the case, along with the exceptionally attractive and bright criminologist, Dr. Joanna Whitmire. Wilson does not like Jackson nor is he willing to accept the advice of more seasoned investigators. This puts Wilson on an irreversible course of conflict with his Chief Deputy, Billy Daniels and the rest of the investigative team.
If you are a fan of the many popular crime scene investigation series now playing, the shows featuring forensic criminology, or those whose focus is the workings of a criminal mind, you will certainly enjoy this read.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Velvet Hammer
• Release date: May 28, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310758270

Book preview

TRAIL OF EVIDENCE

Copyright 2012 A. Velvet Hammer

Published by A. Velvet Hammer at Smashwords

Smashword Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

Albeit a work of fiction, the writer attempted to retain as much realism throughout the story as possible. In order to do so, research and interviews were conducted with Ralph Stone, retired Director of Training for the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. Prior to his appointment as Director of Training, Retired Agent Stone served for 10 years as Assistant Special Agent in Charge, GBI Crime Analysis Unit where he built offender profiles and investigative strategies for unsolved violent crimes. He remains a highly respected criminal profiler.

In 1987, Retired Agent Stone was selected for a Study Fellowship with the FBI Academy at Quantico, Virginia. He completed the 12 month work-study fellowship with the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit in Criminal Investigative Analysis. Prior to his selection for the Study Fellowship, Retired Agent Stone served as Special Agent, Investigator with the GBI where he was responsible for investigating over 1000 felonies, to include burglary, arson, sexual assault and homicide. Prior to joining the GBI Mr. Stone was a Special Agent with the FBI.

His impressive credentials include graduation from the FBI Academy, Savannah’s John Marshall Law School, and the University of Georgia. He currently is a member of the Criminal Justice Faculty, Columbus State University where he has taught Criminal Justice courses as an adjunct professor for over 20 years. His impressive credentials make him a often sought out expert on high profile crimes, not only within the State of Georgia, but on the national level as well.

His expertise, assistance, and background information on investigative technique and procedures enhanced the realism throughout the book.

Chapter 1

The gentle morning breeze pushed a light fog into the trees making it look as if steam was coming out of the ground. The overhead canopy of leaves broke the rays of sunshine into shafts of light. Few would disagree that this was an idyllic scene. But this morning was different. The beauty was overshadowed by the smell of death. It permeated every nook and cranny of the woods.

You boys okay? The Sheriff said tapping his notebook into an open palm.

Not feeling the best in the world. One replied.

Me neither! The other said.

What’s going on here?

Jed and I was a fishing, Sheriff. And Jed caught that! The young man pointed at the body floating along side the boat.

What’s your name, son? The Sheriff opened his notebook.

Buck Johnson.

Yours? Sheriff Wilson pointed his pencil at the other young man.

Jed Rogers.

Sheriff Sonny Wilson wrote the names and then walked carefully down the well-trodden path toward the river. Every few steps he would stop and look intently off to one side of the path, then the other, searching for anything that didn’t look like it belonged here in the woods. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but the sheriff thought he would recognize it when he saw it. After standing on the bank a minute or two, staring at the body, he turned and walked back to where the two men were sitting.

Where'd you catch it? It. No longer a person. Just it.

Over there. Jed pointed at a spot near the bank.

Sheriff Wilson pulled out a handkerchief and put it over his mouth and nose. The handkerchief is purely a psychological reaction. Somehow, you think you can reduce the terrible odor by covering your nose and mouth. It doesn’t help with a dead body. Sheriff Wilson finally realized that the hanky wasn’t going to block out the horrific odor so he stuffed it back in his back pocket.

The sleek bass fishing boat was tied to a tree to keep it and the body from floating away. The boat was one of those low profile bass boats with a two hundred horsepower outboard motor. Unless you are a guy from the South and love fishing, you would never understand the good old boy explanation of why such a big motor is essential. The boat’s finish was shiny ebony with gold flakes that sparkled in the sun. There were several fishing rods strewn across the bottom of the boat. One rod still had hooks embedded in the body. Truth of the matter it was the only thing keeping the dead girl from floating away. Near one of the seats a thermos bottle lay on its side in a puddle of coffee. Next to the puddle was a half-eaten biscuit.

Billy!

Yo, Sheriff? The voice came from several yards back into the woods

Did you call Doc?

Yes, sir. He’s on the way.

What about that crime scene expert from the GBI?

Him too, Sheriff.

Sheriff Wilson knelt on the riverbank and removed his sunglasses. More than the stench of death, it was the sight that made him ill. Into the last year of his eighth term as sheriff of Braley County, Sonny Wilson had never witnessed anything like this. There had been a Wilson as sheriff of Braley County for the past ninety seven years and he could count on one hand the number of murders during that time—none during his tenure.

The girl was naked with her hands folded together under her chin.

Was she praying? Sheriff Wilson cocked his head.

Rivulets of sweat ran down his forehead as the heat and humidity of South Georgia began its daily climb. The Sheriff walked back to where the two men were standing.

Sheriff, this is really getting to me and Buck here. Can we move on up toward the road?

Nope, y'all just hang on. He raised his hand to shield the sunlight streaming through the trees. The GBI will be along here directly. I suspect y'all will have to talk with them before you can leave.

Jed nodded and sat down. He began to pull stems of grass and tear them into little pieces. Buck hurried up the hill to the trees. Jed and Sheriff Wilson could hear him heave. Buck returned a couple of minutes later wiping his mouth on his shirt sleeve.

The Sheriff patted Buck on the back. I know how you feel, boys. But I can’t have you wandering around in my woods messing up any evidence that might be here.

Although the body had been in the water for some time, a freshwater spring in that spot kept the water temperature below forty degrees. At that temperature the body wouldn’t decompose as fast, but it wasn’t deterrence for the eels, turtles, and fish.

Billy’s scuffling in the brush frightened a squirrel. The furry critter ran through the pine straw and stopped half way up a tree, his bushy tail flitting back and forth. The squirrel resented the intrusion into his woods and scolded the intruder.

The Medical Examiner arrived carrying the two straps Chief Deputy Billy Daniels had given him. Doctor J. E. B. Stuart got down on his hands and knees on the riverbank and looked at the body lying next to the boat.

My God, Sonny! Doc Stuart turned his head trying to see underneath the body. We really need to get those straps under her but we can’t until the photos are done.

She just floatin’?

Yup. Hope that gas build up holds until the crime scene fellar finishes his photos. She’ll sink for sure if all that gas escapes. Doc Stuart reached into the back pocket of his pants and pulled out a dog-eared package of Red Man chewing tobacco. He stuffed a wad of the tobacco in his mouth and then offered the bag to the Sheriff who shook his head.

Sure you don’t want some of this?

Makes me gag.

You'll sure smoke those stinky cigars, though won't you?

That's like comparing dog crap to a stick of celery, Doc. Can't see how you work around this terrible smell and chew tobacco too.

Helps me get through. Never seen anybody tied up like this before, Sonny. We can't do much right now. Gotta wait till the crime scene unit finishes.

Chapter 2

There’s nothing like hooking into a dead body to ruin a good day of fishing. The two young men sat as far away from the body as they could. Any further back in the woods and they would be up to their armpits in poison ivy and under attack from sand fleas and chiggers.

That fog coming off the water this morning looked like something out of Star Wars. Jed spoke in a quiet tone as if he would wake the girl lying in the water next to the boat.

Yeah, Buck said. You expected to see old Yoder come out of those woods any minute.

Buck, there’s been enough come at us this morning! Jed pulled his knees up to his chest.

Damned straight!

I'm getting rid of that boat. I ain’t ever getting in that thing again. Jed said.

Don't know who’d buy it now.

You going to Talladega this year? Jed changed the subject to get his mind off the horrible scene before him.

Heck no. I’ve messed around and waited too long. Shoot man, you know there aren’t any tickets left. You going?

Yeah, I guess so.

I take it you got tickets?

No, Buck! I’m just going over there to listen to the sound of the cars as they go around the track. Yes, I got tickets!

Wish I could go. Buck slapped at a mosquito on his neck.

Think there’s a girl out there that's hard up for a date? Hard up enough to be seen in public with you?

I get tickets, he pointed at Jed. I’ll find the girl.

Well, start looking because we got you a couple of tickets. I was going to tell you when we finished fishing. Guess we're done now.

Where’d you get the tickets?

It was Sal’s idea. She went out and got the tickets. Don't know what's wrong with that woman, but she thought you might be able to get somebody to go with you. You owe me hundred ten bucks for them. Jed said.

I'll pay you, don't worry.

I told Sal you might find some girl that would go with you since the race was out of state. Maybe far enough no one would recognize it was her with the likes of you. Jed picked up a small rock and threw it into the water and it landed near the boat.

Hey, you two! the Sheriff hollered through the woods. Don’t be throwing anything into the water! We’re trying to secure us a crime scene here!

Yes, sir! Jed said, picking a handful of grass and throwing it into the wind. I told Sal the only way you could get ever get a date was if you took the girl out of the county. Or it was so dark no one could tell it was you! Jed said.

Shoot, I got plenty gals that go out with me.

When you going to rope one and settle down then?

I’ll tell you, Jed, Buck aimed a stick at his friend. Two things keeping me from settling down. One, I just plum ain’t ready. Two, I’ll settle down soon’s I find a woman like Sally. Yes, sir. Soon’s I find one that will buy Talladega race tickets for my friend and me, Buck paused. And there's another thing I just love about Sally.

Just exactly what is it that you love about my wife? Jed stared at Buck.

Buck's hand froze in mid air as he was getting ready to throw a pine cone into the breeze. He turned his head to look Jed in the eye. I mean, he stammered as he searched for an answer. I mean she's, Buck looked away from Jed. I mean, you know. I love the way she won't go out and waste money on groceries when there’s no beer in the fridge or race tickets in the house.

Jed didn’t speak for a few minutes. This caused Buck a great deal of discomfort. Finally, he broke the silence. Sorry, but it just seems you two have been having an awful good time here lately.

Man, you're my best friend. I wouldn't dare touch my best friend's wife. Buck let out a long breath.

Well, Jed paused, It’s just that I’ve noticed it lately.

Come on Jed, you're just being overly jealous. Sal's a perfect lady, man!

Georgia Bureau of Investigation Special Agent Jason Butcher and Agent John Sparks, newly assigned Crime Scene Unit investigator for South Georgia, arrived on the scene.

Hello, Sheriff Wilson. Like for you to meet Agent John Sparks. He’s the new CSU investigator from Atlanta. Jason Butcher said.

Sparks held out his hand. Glad to meet you, Sheriff. Where was the body found?

Over there, Sheriff Wilson pointed at the spot where Jed had hooked the body. Next to that stump.

Thanks. I’ll get started. Sparks said.

Agent Sparks set about the task of taking crime scene photographs. The Sheriff watched the new crime scene specialist work. After each photo, Sparks wrote a description of the photo in his journal. He took photos from every angle to ensure nothing was missed or hidden by the trees. Sparks shot photos to show every land approach to where the body was found. He took a flashlight from his belt and moved into the woods.

Flashlight? In the daytime? The Sheriff said.

Sure. Shine it down at the ground at an angle and you might pick up a something you would miss otherwise.

I’ll be horn swoggled!

Sparks put on latex gloves then began to walk slowly down the path. He shined the high powered flashlight beam at the ground. Occasionally, he would stop and pick up an object of interest. He placed the item in a small plastic bag and wrote the location where it was found on the bag. Sparks took a Swiss Army knife from one of the leather pouches on his belt, bent over and scooped up some dirt. He opened the pliers and picked up a piece of pine cone and a broken twig.

When Sparks finally worked his way to where the body was lying beside the boat, he took out his camera and shot close ups of the body from every angle he could while standing on the bank. He put on a pair of waders and walked as far as he could into the river to take photographs from the riverside view. He crouched down to shoot along the surface of the water, careful not to allow the water to spill over into his waders. Waders full of water became an anchor and could definitely ruin a guy’s day. On each photograph, Sparks would take the shot so as to show the relative size and location of objects around the body. Finished with photos, he motioned for Doc and the sheriff to get out of the boat. Sparks wrote information about the pictures he had taken while in the water. Then he climbed into the boat and began to comb the dead girl’s wet hair. He held a piece of flat plastic under the hair as he combed to catch any potential evidence. Everything he collected went into separate plastic bags; marked and tagged. Sparks turned to comb the girls pubic hair. He stopped and starred for a moment then turned to Doc.

You see this? Sparks pointed to the lack of pubic hair.

Yup. First thing I thought of was she had picked up one of those popular nether region dos.

You mean a Brazilian?

Yeah, Doc said. But on further exam I think someone scalped her pubic region.

Yeah, looks like they peeled it off with a sharp knife. First time I’ve seen something like this.

Sparks continued to pick bits and pieces off the body, tagging and initialing each plastic bag. He gently lifted each hand and scraped under the fingernails. He noted the missing finger.

Did you see she has a finger missing?

Noted that, Agent Sparks. I’d bet she lost it to a Snapper. Doc said, referring to the abundance of Snapping Turtles in this region.

Probably never find it. Sparks nodded in the direction of the stump. He was now satisfied that he had covered everything, Sparks gave Doc the go ahead to begin his examination.

Are we going to get any evidence out of all this, Doc?

Doubtful. The water washes everything clean. No maggots, no body fluids, not much chance of any external DNA. No fibers or hairs generally left when the body stays in the water this long.

The criminal know that?

If he’s smart he does. Doc motioned for Sonny to come up next to him in the boat. He handed the Sheriff a pair of rubber gloves. Help me put these straps under her. When Doc was satisfied he had the body secure, he leaned back against the side of the boat.

Doc, how long you figure she’s been dead?

In the nearly thirty years Doctor J. E. B. Stuart had been a forensic pathologist it was always the same question and the answer was simple. Technically, it was called post-mortem interval. Most don’t understand the term, so the common answer, for the press, and Sheriff Wilson, is always the same-death occurred sometime between the last time the victim was seen alive and now.

The girl was tied in a ritualistic manner. It wasn’t rocket science. Doc figured the killer was trying to send a message. The rope was looped around the dead girl’s waist and then knotted at the belly button. From the knot at the belly button, the killer ran the rope between her legs, up her back and then looped it around her neck. The girl’s hands were pulled up under her chin—both of them clasped together. The hands were held in place with loops of rope around the wrist.

Without touching the girl, Doc examined the exterior of the body very carefully. He was looking for any cuts, bruises, or entry wounds made by a knife or bullet. The rope and the way it was tied was of great interest.

There’s something odd about these knots. What is it?

Our boy fixed that rope so as to hold her hands in place. Sheriff Wilson bent over to get a better look. You agree, Doc?

Think so. He stopped and stared at the lower half of the naked woman’s body. Hum.

Sonny watched as Doc ran his gloved hand gently between the dead woman’s legs then up over the pubic area. He rubbed his hand back and forth for a few seconds.

My God, Doc! You into nakeafeelya?

No, you old goat! Besides it’s necrophilia.

Isn’t that what I just said?

Doc sat up in the boat, looked off into the woods then turned to look at the Sheriff. You’re hopeless, you know it?

What? The Sheriff said.

What? Why you asking so many dumb questions?

What are you humming and hawing for? The Sheriff said. And why are you rubbin’ that dead girl’s snatch?

I’m not rubbing it, Sonny! I’m a medical examiner trying to do a cursory examination and something isn’t right there between her legs. I’m not sure what I’ve found and won’t be until I get her on the table! Doc made reference to the autopsy table. He paused then tested the tightness of the rope around the girl’s hands. Tied solid. I believe this guy wanted us to know that she was praying.

Wonder if he had her praying for her life just before he killed her?

Hard to say. Given the ligatures here, Doc pointed at the marks around the girl’s wrists, I’d say he posed the body and tied her up after he killed her. Doc rubbed his hands together.

I noticed that Sparks picked up on the missing finger. Sheriff Wilson said.

I can’t be exactly certain until I get finished with the autopsy, Sonny. But damned if it doesn’t look like her pubic hair was skinned clean off! He shifted his weight rocking the boat which caused Sonny to grab onto the sides.

Sure she didn’t shave it, or it wasn’t the turtles?

No, it was not the turtles. That I am certain of. My first thought was she might have shaved it off. That seems to be the style these days.

How the hell would you know that?

I see a lot of dead women. Too many dead women as a matter of fact. Lot of the younger ones have their pubic area shaved, Sonny Wilson. That’s how I know!

You don’t see that many dead women in my county, Doc. I’m the Sheriff, remember?

I read a lot.

You been going to those titty bars in Atlanta!

Doc gave Sonny the finger.

So you don’t think she shaved it off?

No. Don’t think so. One reason I rubbed that area with my rubber glove. Thought I might feel some stubble, which would indicate she had one of those wax jobs. This looks like a clean cut around the pubic hair area and then the skin peeled off. Just my guess right now, but I’d say he used a very sharp knife.

Scalped her vagina?

Pubic area, Sonny. Her vagina’s still there. And he didn’t scalp her, that’s done when the hair is taken from the head.

What the hell would make a man do that?

I don’t have any earthly idea. Doc turned to look at the area where the body was found. There’s a rope with some sort of a weight on it over there near the bank someplace, I’d guess.

How can you tell? The Sheriff said.

See this here, Doc traced his gloved finger along a line across the girl’s mid section. This ligature was caused by a rope tied to something heavy. As the body swelled from the gas and water, the rope mark was made. Probably whatever it was the killer used to keep her under water caused the mark.

The rate of body decomposition depends on a lot of different factors. When the body is in the water, it is a different ball game than one exposed to the air. Decomposition depends on the depth and water temperature. Generally, at depths greater than twenty feet the sun doesn’t shine through and the water temperature will remain cooler. In this case, the water where Jed caught the body was twenty five feet deep and was fed by a cold water spring. The water temperature remained a fairly constant forty degrees. But even in the cool water, once death occurs, a bacterium inside the body begins attacking the dead tissue. While alive, the body has natural defenses to keep bacteria in check. Once the bacteria attack starts, gasses begin to build up, the body bloats and it would normally float to the surface. But cool temperatures minimized the bacterium activity, creating gases slowly. That, along with tying the body to a weight, kept the body from floating to the surface.

I’d say she’s been here at least thirty days or so. Maybe even forty.

How can you tell, Doc?

The body color has taken on a grayish brown color, she’s bloated, there’s quite a bit of subcutaneous adipocere.

A dip oh what?

A dip o cera. It’s a waxy substance that forms from the fat of certain parts of dead bodies, especially if they have been buried in wet places. Doc turned and poked and prodded the dead woman’s abdomen. That released another pocket of gas. Doc turned his head slightly and spit a stream of tobacco juice.

Damn! That smells. Sheriff Wilson said.

Bet your skippy, Doc paused. When old what’s his name pulled her up toward the boat his buddy got a full dose of that smell when she broke the surface. Don’t guess he’ll forget this fishing trip for a while.

Neither will I. Sheriff Wilson said.

Well, you won’t forget this one, I can assure you. Matter of fact, you’ll carry this one around for two or three days, if not more.

Whatcha mean?

This smell gets on you and in your nose and you can’t get it out.

I can live with it if others can. Just hope I can solve this case before the campaign for reelection starts.

Why you running for office again anyway, Sonny? Hell, you’ve been sheriff since Caesar was a corporal.

You know, Doc, my great-granddad was sheriff, after him my granddad, then my dad, who was killed right after I got back from Nam and I was named to replace him. I’ve been sheriff ever since.

What’s your point?

Less than a year into my next term, the Wilson family will have held the office of sheriff in Braley County for one hundred years.

So it’s been the family business. Guess that’s a record in politics.

Considering my only child, a daughter, has no interest in becoming sheriff, I’m it. I want to make it past that one hundred year mark.

Billy walked carefully around the outside of the area, marked off with the yellow crime scene tape, looking for anything that might appear out of place.

Billy was a tall, lanky, soft-spoken South Georgia boy who had joined Sheriff Sonny Wilson’s department as a county commission appointee. A lot of politics surrounded the appointment and most folks in the county were betting that Billy was going to succeed Sheriff Wilson. Truth of the matter is that Sheriff Wilson did not like Billy Daniels, but he really didn’t have any say in the appointment. Sheriff Wilson was convinced that Billy would file to oppose him in the next election. Other than having to put up with the Sheriff’s temper, Billy enjoyed his job. The Sheriff just couldn’t accept the fact that Billy was willing to wait until Sheriff Wilson retired. The two worked as well together as one could hope under the circumstance. But there was a big gap between Sheriff Wilson’s knowledge of modern law enforcement and manner of running the office versus Billy’s knowledge of new investigative tools and techniques. Sheriff Wilson was the quintessential good old boy southern sheriff and his Chief Deputy was a product of new law enforcement principles.

The distant sound of a siren disturbed the serenity of the woods.

"Here comes the meat wagon. You know, Sonny, I don’t think anyone can make a positive ID on her from just viewing the body.

You probably need a Stokes Basket and a couple of body bags, Doc.

We don’t need a Stokes, Sonny. Hand me my black bag.

Why won’t we? Sheriff Wilson reached behind him and handed Doc the bag.

You can’t get her outta the water in the shape she’s in. Particularly with a Stokes Basket. Heck she’d begin to fall to pieces and we’d have bits of body everywhere! Doc opened the bag and pulled out a blue plastic bag. Inside were two packages of bed sheets. This is what we’ll use to get her out of the water.

A bed sheet?

Sure. You put the bed sheet under her, pull her out of the water and all the water and body fluids drain through. But most important, you catch any evidence that might be left on the body.

Evidence?

Evidence, Sonny. You know the stuff you use to catch criminals?

I’m not dumb, Doc, just hadn’t heard of a bed sheet before.

Learned it from an old Crime Scene investigator with the Bureau. When you pick up a body, in or out of the water, any hair, bullets, anything that might fall off the body will fall into the sheet.

Hey, Doc says y'all don’t need to bring a Stokes. Just bring the body bags!

We got it, Sheriff!

Sheriff? Billy said in a loud voice.

Yeah? The Sheriff looked over toward the taped off area.

"Butcher said they were about finished with the crime