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with
this case.
    Lips mashed together and eyes narrowed, Detective Sergeant Shawn
Brandt trudged up the side of the ditch. Lionel could almost hear Shawn’s internal
sighs. Shawn raised the yellow crime scene tape of the outer perimeter and
passed under the barrier. He tugged his latex gloves off his hands, folding them
inside out. When he reached Lionel, he shoved the gloves in his jacket pocket. “You
gonna join the party?”
    “I thought about standing up here for another few minutes so
you can vouch that I was here, and then drive back home to Barbara,” Lionel
told his partner. “If I’m lucky, she’s still in bed.”
    Shawn cracked an apathetic smile. “You’re just lucky to have
someone in your bed waiting for you.”
    Lionel mused that Shawn earned the right to his bitter
comment. Though Shawn’s divorce was finalized last month, the marriage ended
over a year ago. Amber had not been as forgiving as Barbara when it came to
their job pulling them out of bed on their days off. Amber’s method of coping
with the stress included a longstanding affair with their neighbor. Through
that act of marital betrayal, Shawn lost his wife, his barbequing buddy, and his
house.
    Lionel noticed Shawn had buzzed his light brown hair almost
down to his scalp since he left the station last night. “New look for the
ladies?” he asked.
    “Hilarious.” Shawn rubbed his hands together, fighting the
bitter cold of the early spring morning. “So you going down there?” he asked
again.
    “Is it the same as before?”
    “Why else would I drag you out of bed?”
    “This guy is killing way too fast. There’s not much room for
acceleration in his killings. It’s like he started at full speed, but serial
killers don’t do that.”
    Shawn held up his index finger. “Ah, but remember he has a
message for us. Maybe he really wants us to listen.”
    Lionel inferred from Shawn’s tone that he was withholding
information. “I take it we’ve confirmed what the message is.”
    Shawn motioned for Lionel to follow him, and Lionel planted
careful steps down the side of the ditch toward the crime scene. As a child, he
could run up and down ditches without fear. Now in his late forties, even the slightest
misstep would cause a short and unfortunate fall, resulting in a twisted ankle
or similar calamity.
    Within the boundaries of the outer crime scene perimeter,
officers unnecessary to the investigation huddled in a group, deep in
discussion. Though it might appear to outsiders that the officers were engaged
in important conversation about the crime scene, Lionel imagined they gossiped
about their weekend plans, golf swings, significant others, anything but the
gruesomeness in front of them. Not that Lionel blamed them. It was easier to
focus on a world that existed outside of crime when faced with the horrors of
homicide.
    Beyond the yellow tape of the inner perimeter, two crime
scene investigators combed a grid search through long-forgotten weeds for
additional evidence. The tall weeds glinted gold in the early spring sun, and
some even sprouted dandelions, giving them a much nicer appearance than mere garden
menaces.
    The investigators waded forward, heads down in search of
anything that might help crack the case. Given the lack of evidence at the
other crime scenes, Lionel thought their efforts futile, although necessary. After
six murders, a break in the case was long overdue.
    Shawn and Lionel made their way to the center of the inner perimeter
and toward their final destination. Perry Weinberg knelt over a body, while a
crime scene technician snapped photographs of the corpse and immediate area. As
Sedgwick County’s Chief Medical Examiner, Perry had performed the autopsies on
the first five homicide victims with the same emotionless expression he wore now.
Lionel did not think badly of him for it. In the twenty plus years Lionel
worked with Perry, he had noted that emotion rarely found its way into Perry’s work.
He also rarely