style="font-size:15px;"> “Jury’s still out,” she murmured back.
The cops had moved away but Maggie Caldwell, the deputy medical examiner, remained close by after she unzipped the bag.
“Sorry,” she said quietly. “I didn’t want to touch the body but Costabile was adamant that we move quickly. If you’d arrived five minutes later, she’d have been packed up in the van.”
“Any idea what the rush was?” Ryan asked her.
“No,” Caldwell said nervously. “But I don’t think it was all his idea. He was on the phone with someone who seemed to be giving him instructions. It was after he hung up that he really tried to push things along.”
Jessie moved closer to the girl. Her cheerleading uniform, red, with white script and black trim, was nondescript. The writing said only “Central H.S.” The skirt was pulled down to her thighs.
“Lester said she already graduated, right?” Ryan recalled. “So why the uniform?”
“I’ve lived in this area for twenty years and I don’t recognize that school or those colors,” Caldwell said. “I don’t think it’s real.”
“Maybe it was a costume,” Jessie suggested. “Waitressing and acting are hardly mutually exclusive.”
“Possible,” Ryan agreed. “I hate to say it, but Costabile could be right too. It could be an outfit she wore for…a client. That wouldn’t be unheard of around here.”
Jessie nodded, voicing her own theory.
“Whatever she was doing, unless she had a trust fund, it was more than just waitressing. This place is nice. The art isn’t cheap and it’s clear that she had a comprehensive skin and hair regimen that involved professional assistance. She wasn’t struggling. Do we know if she was sexually assaulted?” she asked Caldwell.
“Too early to tell. We’ll know more tomorrow.”
“We should definitely talk to the roommate soon,” Ryan said. “Maybe she can let us know if Michaela had received any threats recently.”
Jessie nodded in agreement as she looked more closely at the knife puncture wounds. There were five in the chest and another four in the abdomen.
“Did anyone find the murder weapon?” she asked.
“There’s a butcher knife missing from the kitchen set,” Officer Lester, who had overheard the question, volunteered. “But we haven’t been able to locate it.”
“That’s weird,” Ryan noted.
“What?” Lester asked.
“Well, if this was a robbery gone wrong, you’d expect the perpetrator to be surprised to find Michaela in her room. The general disarray in this room suggests a struggle. But if the perp didn’t know she was here, how did he get the knife? It’s hard to believe he ran back to the kitchen to get it and then came back to the bedroom again.”
“Maybe he knocked her out and then got the knife?” Lester offered.
“But if he knocked her out and this was a robbery, why not just take the stuff and go?” Jessie wondered. “There wouldn’t be any resistance at that point. To go grab a knife, return to the bedroom, and stab an unconscious girl nine times. That doesn’t sound like typical robber behavior. That’s cold-blooded. And yet…”
“What?” Lester prodded.
“A laptop was taken,” she said, nodding at the empty desk. “And we don’t have her phone here. So she was robbed. The question is: was that an afterthought? Was it staged or were those things taken for a specific reason? Whatever the case, it’s hardly open and shut.”
That last comment made Costabile, who’d been standing quietly in the corner for the last few minutes, perk up.
“I thought you were done casting aspersions for a few minutes,” he said acidly. “But I guess it was too much to hope for.”
Jessie was about to retort when Ryan stepped in.
“We’ll let it lie for now,” he said. “After all, we still need to talk to the roommate. Come on, Jessie.”
They started for the door. But Ryan stopped just as they were leaving. Leaning in so that only she and Costabile could hear him, he muttered one last thing to the man.
“But I have to tell you, Sergeant, if you think we’re done asking why you’re handling this case in such rushed, slipshod fashion, you are sadly mistaken. I don’t know what you’re hiding, but this case stinks. If you think you can keep a lid on it, you’re kidding yourself.”
Costabile didn’t reply. But he did give Ryan a big, toothy, malevolent grin that suggested he felt otherwise.
CHAPTER SIX
For a second, Jessie thought Michaela’s roommate was dead too.
Despite the EMTs’ assurances to the contrary, she was unresponsive when they opened the ambulance door and tried to get her attention. Even after they called her by what the EMT said was her preferred name, Lizzie, she didn’t stir. It was only when Ryan pulled off the thermal blanket she was wrapped in that she gave them the time of day.
“What?” she demanded in a tired, surly voice.
The girl looked to be in her late teens. Even if she hadn’t seen Lizzie’s room, Jessie would have guessed she was a more restrained personality than her roommate. Her brown hair was tied back tight and her makeup was subdued to the point of unnoticeable. She was dressed conservatively in a zippered CSUN sweatshirt and pants. She wore a crucifix necklace.
Jessie frowned at Ryan, not pleased with his tactics. But he shrugged as if to say he was done being patient.
“Lizzie,” Jessie began, using her most sympathetic voice, “we’re investigating what happened and we need to ask you a few questions.”
“They gave me something,” Lizzie said. “I’m feeling a little loopy.”
“We understand,” Jessie assured as she helped the girl up to a seated position. “And we’re going to have you go to the hospital to get checked out momentarily. But we need to get some basics from you first, okay?”
“I guess.”
“How did you know Michaela?” Jessie asked.
“We went to high school together,” Lizzie said, speaking slowly as she focused on each word. “She left early but we stayed in touch. When I graduated we decided to become roomies. She was a good roomie.”
Jessie glanced over at Ryan. The girl was really zonked out. Getting much out of her would be hard. He raised his eyebrows in frustration. Jessie tried again.
“Lizzie, did Michaela have family in the area?”
With much effort, Lizzie shook her head.
“What about a boyfriend or someone she recently broke up with?”
“No boyfriend,” Lizzie answered lazily.
“Maybe
