Fat Free And Fatal. G. A. McKevett
she made her way through the throng of reporters, she had no problem elbowing them aside. As a cop, she had run the media gauntlet many times before. And while she realized that reporters had to be rude and relentless—it was their job—that didn’t mean she had to be anything other than rude and relentless back to them.
“Nope, I’m nobody,” she said in answer to their questions about her identity and her connection to the scene. “Nobody at all. So move out of my way and nobody’ll slap you upside the head. That’s it. Thank you very much. Step aside. You’re too kind.”
“But you aren’t supposed to go onto the property,” a particularly prissy anchor-type woman said to Savannah as she started up the driveway. “That policeman over there said nobody is supposed to go past the property line.”
“And I’m just the nobody who can do it,” Savannah returned, flashing her an icy smile. She looked the reporter up and down, taking in the designer suit, big hair, perfect makeup, and three-inch heels. “You, on the other hand, are obviously somebody, so you’d better stay where you are.”
“What?”
“Eh, don’t trouble your head about it. I know I’m not going to.”
“What?”
Savannah chuckled and hurried on up the brick driveway to the white van and the tall, attractive Asian woman standing beside it. The lab coat did little to disguise Dr. Jennifer Liu’s curvaceous body, and only an inch or two of a black miniskirt showed below the jacket’s hem. Her long, black hair, although swept back and held with a bright aqua and green silk scarf, made her look more like a fashion model than a medical examiner.
To be sure, at first glance, one might think the good doctor was straight off the pages of Victoria’s Secret, not on her way to an autopsy suite to cut up and evaluate dead bodies.
Until one looked into her eyes and saw a no-nonsense gleam of macabre fascination with the world of the dead that only someone who was truly called to do such work could have.
Though she did smile slightly when she saw Savannah coming her way.
The two women had bonded over chocolate so many times that they had formed a sisterhood of two. And a kinship born of and founded upon PMS cravings was as intimate and strong as any sorority could be.
“Hey, Dr. Liu,” Savannah greeted her, foregoing their usual hug since the doctor was surrounded by subordinates…not to mention the press.
“Hi, yourself.” The coroner pulled a pair of surgical gloves off her hands and dropped them into a paper bag that one of her assistants was holding. “Did Dirk give you a call?”
Savannah nodded. “He says Dona Papalardo may be in need of a bodyguard.”
Dr. Liu glanced inside the open door of the van at the bagged body inside. “Yes,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I’d say that some personal protection for Ms. Papalardo is a very good idea right now.”
Savannah stepped closer and looked inside. The body bag’s zipper had a lock on it.
And Savannah knew all too well…nobody ever wanted to end up in a body bag with a lock on it. Locked body bags were always bad news.
No one had a key to that lock, except Dr. Liu herself. When foul play was obvious, or even suspected, the chain of custody demanded that absolutely no one have access to the body until a thorough autopsy had been performed. If any trace of evidence was found and any charges brought, the prosecutor would want to be sure than no defense attorney could claim contamination of the evidence.
The last thing the state’s attorneys would want would be someone suggesting that hairs, fibers, or any other sort of debris had been planted or even innocently transferred.
“So,” Savannah said, “you think the other members of the household or staff could be in danger?”
Dr. Liu looked over at the reporters and stepped closer to Savannah. “Oh, I’m pretty sure of it,” she whispered. “Dirk and I would both place a big bet that whoever shot the victim thought she was Ms. Papalardo.”
“Really? Does she look that much like her?”
“From a distance, yes. Both of them are blondes, about the same size and height. And the vic was wearing that—” She nodded toward the front of the van.
Savannah had to step around the vehicle to see what Dr. Liu was referring to. And she gasped when she first saw it. It was a bloody, gory thing that at first looked like a slaughtered animal.
She had seen something like that once before, many years ago, in Georgia. Her brother had shot a rabid fox in the woods behind her grandmother’s house with a shotgun. And he had brought the corpse home to show to everyone before burying it.
Savannah had seen that poor, mangled body in her dreams for months afterward. Such a beautiful animal, so graceful in life and so hideous in death.
The bloody pile on Dona Papalardo’s driveway looked just like that dead fox.
“That’s Ms. Papalardo’s fur coat,” Dr. Liu told her. “Red fox. She loaned it to her assistant, Kimberly Kay Dylan, for the evening. Kimberly had some sort of special date, and Dona let her wear the coat and one of her evening gowns. She also allowed her the use of her private limousine. The limo pulled up, here in front of the house, Kimberly walked out in the gown and coat, and was shot right over there.” She pointed to the crime techs’ markings on the driveway that showed where the body had fallen.
Savannah walked over to the spot. An impressive and depressing amount of blood covered the ground, and quite a number of individuals had tracked through it, spreading the gore for at least twenty feet in all directions.
It was hardly a virginal crime scene. Assorted medical garbage was strewn about; bloody gauze, discarded gloves, torn wrappers, bits of sparkling silver fabric, and even a stained brassiere lay among the forensic scribblings that marked distances and the locations where significant evidence had been found.
“Paramedics,” Savannah said. She knew the signs of first-response critical care all too well.
Dr. Liu nodded. “They worked on her really hard,” she said, “but it was pointless. If they’d had a surgical unit set up right here in the driveway they couldn’t have saved her. It looks like it was a direct shot, through the back, right to the heart. She probably exsanguinated in less than a minute. Two minutes tops, I’m sure.”
Savannah looked around, scanning the area for places where a shooter could hide, lying in wait and then fire. “Any idea where it came from?” she asked, noticing that someone could have gotten a clear shot from at least three of the neighboring mansions, not to mention numerous tall trees and a brushy hill to the side of the house. And, if they had a scope on a rifle, from a dozen more.
“Dirk thinks the shooter was up there,” Dr. Liu said, nodding toward the sage-and marguerite-covered hill. “He had me send a couple of techs up there to look for a casing.”
“Anything yet?”
“No. But they found some fresh footprints, and we’ll be making casts of those. Looks like a man’s size-thirteen hiking boot. Could be our shooter.”
“Or it could have just been left by a guy who was hiking in boots,” Savannah said.
Dr. Liu grinned. “That’s what I like about you, Savannah, always looking on the bright side.”
“Hey, Dirk’s always accusing me of being a Pollyanna.”
She sniffed. “Well, next to him, you are. Anybody is.”
Savannah chuckled. “Speak of the devil, I’ve got to go find Mr. Morose. And Dona Papalardo, too. I can’t believe I’m going to get to meet her. She’s always seemed like such a nice person in TV interviews. I’m a big fan of hers.”
Dr. Liu glanced at the front door of the mansion. “I’m sure she is under normal circumstances, but