Rideout looked up at Amanda and Trent and waved a gloved hand. “I was starting to wonder if you were going to show up.”
“Well, we’re here now,” Amanda replied.
Jill Archer’s body was on display. Rideout was in the middle of conducting a preliminary autopsy on her. So much of her flesh was marred with bruises in varying shades. Amanda glanced away only to have her gaze land on a second gurney.
Little Charlotte.
The girl was covered with a sheet to her shoulders, leaving her neck and face exposed. What she wouldn’t do to travel back in time and save mother and daughter. But that wasn’t her job. She came after hell happened. She sorted out the mess, made sense of it, and gave closure to loved ones left behind. Justice.
She cleared her throat. “We have their names now. Jill Archer is the woman, and the child is her daughter, Charlotte. They are the wife and daughter of an officer with the Dumfries PD. I’ll text you the husband’s number so you can arrange for him to formally ID them.”
“All right.”
Amanda quickly took care of that, then pocketed her phone. “Any highlights we should know about?”
“As you can see, the woman’s body is a map of abuse. In addition to the contusions on her wrists as I noted at the grave, you see there are many on her legs, inner thighs, abdomen.”
“All within the last two weeks,” Trent seethed.
“Afraid so.”
Trent shook his head, grimaced. “You should know we’re looking at the husband.”
“As you probably should be. Husbands, partners, first suspects and all that.”
“Yes, well, we’re keeping our minds open,” Amanda said. “Is there evidence of sexual assault?”
“For the woman, there is evidence of forced sex, yes. And I believe it was repeated instances.”
That woman would have lived in horror. “The girl? Was she… Have you gotten to her yet?”
“She was first for the external autopsy. I’ll go back to her and pick up where I left off after I’ve looked over the woman.” Rideout’s voice was gravelly.
“Never easy when it’s a kid.” She took a bet that’s what had Rideout allowing himself some separation. Otherwise, he normally stuck with one body until the autopsy was complete before moving on to the next.
“It’s not, but the one silver lining is there is no sign she was abused physically or sexually. Aside from the perimortem bruising on her back, her body isn’t telling that story.”
“Her back?” Amanda asked.
“I’ll get to that.”
“Semen in the woman?” Trent asked.
Rideout shook his head.
“Wore a condom then.” Trent removed his notepad from his coat pocket.
“Could be that or the last time she had sex was some time before her death.”
“Have you been able to more accurately pinpoint time of death?” Amanda asked.
“Approximately four days ago.”
“As you thought on scene.” That would mean their deaths took place on Friday, three days after Roy told them he’d returned home to find them gone. It would be more favorable if he’d lied to protect himself. The alternative birthed the possibility of a killer taking them and holding them before eventually taking their lives.
“X-rays did show breaks in the C2 and C3 vertebra, just at the base of the skull. I can now confirm that cause of death for both was transection of the spinal cord caused by the killer twisting their necks. Definitely done at someone’s hand. Likely a man’s, a person of strength. He’d also possess knowledge of how to pull this off.” Rideout mimed how that would work—his left hand on his right jaw, right hand on his left temple. “This would have been done from standing behind them.”
A few seconds passed in silence, but the space was filled with tangible sorrow.
Rideout continued. “I scanned their entire bodies, in fact. The mother showed bones that had been broken but were in various stages of healing.”
“The son of a bitch,” Trent muttered and paced a few steps away, turning his back to them.
Rideout glanced at Amanda. “It’s always difficult when cases involve possible domestic abuse.”
“Nothing possible about that,” Trent said.
She wasn’t even going to touch his comment, not wanting a confrontation with her partner. “Anything else we should know?”
Rideout turned Jill on her side and pointed to a reddish-colored section beneath her buttocks. “Livor mortis, as you know, blood settling and pooling in the body after death, always shows in the lowest extremities. In this case, the woman was sitting for a couple hours after her heart stopped. Not lying down, as she was found in the grave. Same goes for the girl.”
“Okay, well, we didn’t figure they were killed in the park.” The scene of the crime remained a mystery along with how their bodies were transported to the grave.
“Something else you’ll no doubt find interesting is under ultraviolet light, there are faint markings on their backs to indicate they were both hugged tightly. That perimortem bruising I’d mentioned earlier.”
Amanda did her best to assimilate what Rideout just told them. “He hugged them hard enough to bruise them, then broke their necks? And all this while they were sitting down? I’m not sure how this would all work.”
“I’m not saying they were hugged and their necks broken while sitting. The killer could have put them in a seated position right afterward.”
“You are sure? He hugged them first?” Trent asked.
“That’s what the evidence is telling me.”
Amanda mulled on that. If this was a matter of domestic violence being taken to the extreme, their deaths would have happened in a rage. They wouldn’t have been shown affection first. Then again, anything was possible. “Do you think you’ll be able to determine a handspan from the bruising on their backs?”
“The crime lab should be able to come up with an approximation. I will forward photographs to the lab for further analysis. I’m sure CSI Blair or Donnelly will be in touch. I feel comfortable in concluding it is most likely a man’s hand. As I mentioned, it would take someone with a fair amount of strength to do this, especially with the woman.”
Amanda nodded. Those measurements would either strengthen the case against Roy Archer or release him from suspicion. Her mind circled around to something else Rideout had said. “Let me get this right, though. So after their necks were broken they were left to sit?”
“Exactly.”
“That could fit a heat-of-the-moment kill. They’re dead and now he’s left to figure out how to get rid of them.”
“Possible.”
But not definitive… And maybe the seated part meant nothing of real importance. She was still weighing her suspicions about Roy Archer though. “Is there any way you can compare older bruising and tell if they were all caused by the same hand? Finger size or handspan?”
Rideout smiled tightly. “Now you’re wishing for a magical genie, Detective.”
“Anything else you will be forwarding to the lab?” Amanda was greedy for answers, even though she had worked cases where they had far less at the start of an investigation.
“Some hairs and fibers.”
“And under their nails?” Amanda asked.
“I scraped, of course. No epithelium.”
It wasn’t what Amanda wanted to hear, but it might make sense. Both had been embraced before death; they may not have felt threatened enough to fight back. Roy could have killed his family. Both mother and daughter would have trusted him enough to let him get close. Or was it someone else they knew? Then again, fear or shock could have hindered their defense. After all, one of them had to go first. Amanda worked the scenarios in her mind—child first, the mother would have gone ballistic; mother first, the child might be convinced it was an accident and welcome comforting. It was also possible they were separated at the time their necks were broken.
“Now, this is where I tell you I’ve given you everything I’ve discovered thus far. You going to stick around or…?” Rideout put his face shield in place. He was obviously getting to work regardless of their answer.
“Send us your full reports once you have them,” Amanda told him, and she and Trent left the morgue. Since they were already in Manassas, she was tempted to pop over to the crime lab and see if they had any updates to share, specifically regarding the stuffed elephant. Was there anything to confirm definitively if it had been Charlotte’s? If so, maybe Amanda’s thoughts would calm down.
Trent unlocked the department car and got inside.
The engine was already running by the time she joined him.
“Roy Archer lied about when they went missing,” Trent said. “He beat them. He killed them.”
“The evidence seems rather damning, but we still don’t have a solid case against him.”
“I know he’s a cop, that the sarge wants all the i’s dotted and t’s crossed before we go after him. But I say we look in the family home. We shouldn’t need a warrant for that—not if Roy is innocent and interested in knowing what happened to his family.”
“I’m not so sure. He already knows he’s a suspect.”
“The fact remains he is the prime suspect. If this was anyone else but someone with a badge, we’d be in the house.”
Amanda couldn’t argue with Trent because he was right. Politics were at play. Though she didn’t know what they could find in the home to point them in the killer’s direction. The location where the murders had taken place was still a mystery. With their cause of death, it wasn’t like they had a bloody crime scene to find either. But knowing more about Jill and Charlotte Archer from looking at their things might move the case forward. “We’ll talk with Graves, bring her up to speed on the autopsy findings, and go from there.” In speaking of the sergeant, Amanda noted she hadn’t been present at the morgue.
“Let’s do it. Surely she has to see what I do. Roy Archer killed his family.”
This new side to Trent wasn’t entirely attractive. She’d dismiss it as concerns about his aunt affecting him, but that didn’t make his attitude excusable. He stubbornly refused to accept there were potential holes in the evidence against Roy.
Trent looked over at Amanda. “Tell me you see it.”
“I see it’s possible. But some factors cast doubt on Roy being the killer. For one, the circumstances in which they were killed. There’s no sense of urgency to support heat of the moment, as in cases of domestic killings. There’s also the stuffed elephant and the timeline between when they went missing and were killed.”
“Assuming Roy didn’t lie about when he last saw them. And, Amanda, you know as well as I do just because Roy denied knowledge of the doll doesn’t mean it wasn’t his daughter’s. And you realize if it wasn’t Charlotte’s then that leaves the question of where it came from.” He glanced at her, and they locked eyes.
“Of that, I’m well aware.”
“See? A worse thought? Was it another child’s toy? A killer who has murdered before? If we dismiss Roy we’re looking for a third party who abducted mother and daughter, held them for days, killed them, then buried them in the woods.”
“I’m not so sure it’s a better or worse thought at this point. We still have two people whose lives have been cut short. It’s good we’re talking this through.”
“We have to, right? It’s all about keeping an open mind.” More sarcastic than authentic.
“It is,” she shoved back. “Take us to Central. We’ll have that talk with Graves in person.”
Trent got them on the road while Amanda called CSI Blair. She landed in voicemail and left a message requesting a list of what was deemed evidence from the crime scene. She also specifically mentioned the elephant, the hairs and fibers, and photos of bruising that Rideout would be sending over. She kindly asked that a rush be placed on everything. Trent wasn’t the only one hungry for justice.