Chapter Six
Another one. Jordan sighed and pushed a strand of her long, chestnut hair behind her ear. Another girl.
It seemed that the summer rapist was at it again. He first surfaced about seven years ago, raping and killing young girls only in the summer. The BPD thought someone had finally caught the bastard under another charge because the assaults abruptly stopped some time ago. Everyone assumed he was locked up somewhere. "I guess we were wrong," thought Jordan, as she pulled the sheet up over the girl and pushed her back in the drawer.
"What's it look like, Jordan?" asked Garrett. "I've got all of the Boston PD and the DA breathing down my neck."
"It's him, Garret, he's back. It's his same MO, the same markings, the same everything," replied Jordan.
"Great. Just what we need this summer. I'm going to call the chief and the DA. They're probably going to want to talk with us this afternoon. You busy?"
"No, just some paperwork to wade through. I'll be in my office, just let me know when."
"And Jordan, you're sure about this?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. Unfortunately."
Jordan made her way back to her office, to shut herself in with the mountain of paperwork that accompanied each body into the morgue. She was about half way through it when Garrett called her on her cell phone.
"Can you be in Rene's office in 20 minutes?" he asked.
"Sure thing. On my way."
Garrett was at the meeting, along with Rene Walcott and the police chief. There was a detective there that was the first on the last two crime scenes and a uniform officer Jordan recognized from the last rape call.
"Okay, we're 99 percent sure we have the Summer Rapist again," Rene said. "We've got to make sure we get him this time. He can't slip by us again."
"What do we have?" asked the chief.
Jordan and Garrett went over everything they had from the last two cases and the previous cases through the years.
"Who handled the initial investigations?" asked the chief. "Why isn't that detective here?"
"He's no longer on the force," replied the detective.
"Who was it?"
"Detective Woody Hoyt."
"Get him back here," growled the chief.
Another one. Jordan sighed and pushed a strand of her long, chestnut hair behind her ear. Another girl.
It seemed that the summer rapist was at it again. He first surfaced about seven years ago, raping and killing young girls only in the summer. The BPD thought someone had finally caught the bastard under another charge because the assaults abruptly stopped some time ago. Everyone assumed he was locked up somewhere. "I guess we were wrong," thought Jordan, as she pulled the sheet up over the girl and pushed her back in the drawer.
"What's it look like, Jordan?" asked Garrett. "I've got all of the Boston PD and the DA breathing down my neck."
"It's him, Garret, he's back. It's his same MO, the same markings, the same everything," replied Jordan.
"Great. Just what we need this summer. I'm going to call the chief and the DA. They're probably going to want to talk with us this afternoon. You busy?"
"No, just some paperwork to wade through. I'll be in my office, just let me know when."
"And Jordan, you're sure about this?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. Unfortunately."
Jordan made her way back to her office, to shut herself in with the mountain of paperwork that accompanied each body into the morgue. She was about half way through it when Garrett called her on her cell phone.
"Can you be in Rene's office in 20 minutes?" he asked.
"Sure thing. On my way."
Garrett was at the meeting, along with Rene Walcott and the police chief. There was a detective there that was the first on the last two crime scenes and a uniform officer Jordan recognized from the last rape call.
"Okay, we're 99 percent sure we have the Summer Rapist again," Rene said. "We've got to make sure we get him this time. He can't slip by us again."
"What do we have?" asked the chief.
Jordan and Garrett went over everything they had from the last two cases and the previous cases through the years.
"Who handled the initial investigations?" asked the chief. "Why isn't that detective here?"
"He's no longer on the force," replied the detective.
"Who was it?"
"Detective Woody Hoyt."
"Get him back here," growled the chief.