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will need to know.” She covers her face, then drops her hands and says, “I’ll call him right away.”

Chapter 5
    B arrios is completing his notes when he hears sirens approaching; he excuses himself and steps out to the compound. Detectives Sharp and Howard are in the lead vehicle, the crime unit van following.
    Detective Sam Sharp emerges from the driver’s side. He is a stocky middle-aged man with graying hair, sun-wrinkled skin and five o’clock shadow. He speaks first to Barrios. “Hello, Frank, what have you got?”
    Detective Howard, in contrast to Sharp, is young and handsome with a professional demeanor. He nods to Barrios and joins the two men.
    “I didn’t stay inside any longer than it took to secure the scene. The victim is a forty-three-year-old female. She’s been cut to pieces. It’s a goddamned mess…I’ve never seen anything like it,” Barrios exclaims with widened eyes. He relays the information from his notes as the Crime Scene Unit techs fall in behind them as they walk to the apartment.
    Jackson holds the tape up for the group. Detective Sharp stops them at the bottom of stairway.
    “Listen up, everyone! I don’t tolerate screw-ups. Don’t touch anything without gloves. Don’t assume anything is not important. Bag and mark everything. Barrios, go see if the coroner is here, and you,” he points to Jackson, “keep everybody outside of that tape.” Sharp motions and heads up the stairs. The latex gloves start snapping as the group ascends.
    The stairs are lit by the porch light Barrios had turned on earlier. When they reach the door, Sharp pushes it open with his gloved hand. “I want everything printed, starting with this door, dust it all.”
    He steps into the apartment. The light in the foyer allows him to see the outline of the torso on the floor and only the reflected contours of the face staring at him from the kitchen counter. He searches for light switches, careful not to disturb anything. Two switches at the back wall of the foyer turn on an overhead light and a lamp; suddenly the grisly scene unfolds before them.
    “Remember, any doubts, bag it!” Sharp motions to Detective Howard. “Check the other rooms,” and Howard heads down the hall, decorated on both sides with framed photographs of golf courses.
    Sharp kneels by the torso. A small yellow pennant with the numeral I embroidered on it is standing upright in the navel. The abdomen is coated with a green substance. The gaping wounds where the breasts, arms and legs should be are now cavities filled with a white grainy substance.
    Howard walks back into the room and kneels by Detective Sharp. “The arms and legs are in the bathtub. You’ve got damp and bloody towels but everything else appears undisturbed. What do you make of the breasts over there?” he says as he shakes his head.
    Sharp hasn’t noticed the breasts but he glances over at them. They are about six feet apart sitting upright on the carpet. They are even with the width of the open French doors, back about four feet from the opening. He returns his attention to the torso. “Her abdomen resembles a goddamn golf green! Christ! What the hell went on here? All right, Stevens, start taking pictures. Everybody else get out of the way, don’t touch anything until Stevens is finished.” He nods to Stevens. “Let’s document everything before we start to collect evidence. Get that torso from several angles, Stevens. I don’t want to miss anything.”
    Sharp and Howard stand by the front window and converse quietly. Sharp says, “Barrios better get that coroner up here. This isn’t your normal lover’s quarrel or rape murder; this is the work of a psychopath.”
    Howard nods in agreement. “Yes. I think he bled her out in the bathtub and then butchered her. Why go to all this trouble?” He spreads his arms.
    “That’s for the coroner to figure out. Let’s just make sure we don’t miss anything.”
    They hear steps outside and turn to see Officer