sweep farther than what the NYPD did. Ask everyone if they saw anything. I have a hard time believing our perp vanished into thin air without leaving so much as a trace of evidence behind.” The agents nodded, and Lara started to stand with them. “And, Lara, you’re going to check out a lead where our potential witness can’t be killed.”
The way everyone was dropping around her, Lara couldn’t believe such a guarantee could be made.
“How can you be sure?” she drawled.
Victoria’s lips thinned. “Because this one’s already dead.”
Lara stepped around a throng of tourists only to be forced to sidestep a construction cone. She looked at its orange plastic, faded and overused. It was quite the contrast from the sleek red glow of the Macy’s sign above it.
The sound of one popular song or another played through the doors and followed her along the white tile until she was at the mouth of the women’s clothing department. She felt the tenderness in her shoulder and the soreness in her legs from her earlier activity, but she knew she needed to push it from her mind.
Victoria had been alerted to a female victim, found in a Macy’s dressing room with a stamp across her cheek. Other than that she hadn’t known anything else. The MM stamp was a blaring red flag. It was the insignia of the Moretti syndicate. However, the connection between the victim, Lara and their current case was unclear.
Another question she hoped they’d be able to answer.
A group of NYPD officers were mulling around the dressing room opening. One spotted Lara and made his was over.
“Nice to see you again,” the officer deadpanned. Lara didn’t know his name, but she remembered his face from her first meeting with Dunst at the hotel. He held up the crime tape tied between clothing racks across the aisle and let her in without any trace of humor. Lara couldn’t blame him. She wasn’t anywhere near cheery either.
Her stomach knotted as she focused on the forensics guy ahead of her with his kit. He was being motioned to the dressing room, past a mannequin sporting a floor-length floral dress and a matching pair of black pumps. The officer next to her followed her gaze and let out a long exhale. “Ready to see her?”
Lara nodded. She needed to see the stamp in person—to confirm its validity. It was one thing to see it in a picture or on security camera footage. It was an entirely different feeling to see it in person.
On cue a phantom pain twinged in her upper arm. She rolled her shoulder back and nodded again, more to herself.
“Yes, I need to see it.”
The Macy’s dressing room had been vacated save one officer and the man tasked with logging all of the forensic evidence. All personnel were stationed outside of the dressing room lounge, being questioned for what they had or hadn’t seen. The door to the room closest to them was opened.
Lara braced herself for what was waiting.
The unnecessary murder of a woman and the connection that tied her to Lara. Because there was a connection. The only question that remained was how?
The man she was with gave a nod to the officer, and soon Lara was staring at a woman crumpled on the floor at the back of the little space, obviously dead and obviously marked.
“Female, early thirties, dark hair, a MM on her cheek,” the officer said as if reading off notes. Lara took in these details as she scanned the woman’s tan body. Short and skinny, she was on her side and was topless. “In the middle of trying on swimsuits when she was killed,” he added. Lara’s eyes jumped to a pink bikini top still on a hanger in the corner.
“How was she killed?” Lara asked, not wanting to step inside for fear she’d damage evidence.
“The medical examiner will call it when he gets here, but, just from the lack of evidence around here, I’m going to guess she was strangled,” the forensics guy answered. He motioned to the victim’s neck. “See the bruising?”
He was right. Around the victim’s neck was a dark mark.
“It looks too thin to be from someone’s hand,” she noted.
“I agree. I’d guess it was by wire or string or—” he pointed to the bikini top “—it could have just as easily been that.”
“Strangled with a bikini, that’d be a first,” the officer said. Once again, there was no humor in his words.
“How was she found?” Lara asked as she watched the forensics guy look closely at the three walls boxing him and the victim in. “Did anyone hear the struggle?”
The officer shook his head. “An employee came back from putting out clothes and saw the door opened, even though the number tag was still on the outside. It was around then she realized she couldn’t find her room key.”
“So our attacker lifted it, used it to open the door, slipped inside, and potentially used a string bikini to strangle our victim?” Lara asked, bewildered. “How did no one hear that?”
“My guess?” the forensics guy chimed in. “Our victim is notably petite. If she was adequately surprised, then she could have also been easily overpowered.” At that he looked around the space. “There are no marks, scratches or dents on the walls. If you’re being attacked in a confined area where someone is trying to kill you, my thoughts are that you would try to utilize what’s around you or at the very least make a much bigger mess.”
“Unless your attacker is bigger and stronger,” Lara supplied.
The man nodded. “In my opinion, our victim didn’t have a chance.”
The three of them, despite being strangers, gave the woman at their feet a small moment of silence. The helplessness she must have felt—the fear—while being killed in a public place was enough to make Lara’s heart hurt. The officer cleared his throat, and the moment passed.
“This is the women’s dressing room, though, correct?” Lara asked. “It’s my turn to take a guess and say our perp was a woman, too, so to avoid arousing suspicion versus a burly man just walking in and out with anyone raising an eyebrow.” She turned to the officer. “I’d like the security footage from the cameras around the entrance into here.”
The man didn’t seem too enthused to fulfill her request, but he didn’t fight her about it either. Which was good. She would have let him know real quick who pulled rank.
“Do we have a name for our shopper?” Lara glanced at the woman’s face. In profile she almost looked peaceful.
“Elizabeth-Something,” the officer answered, pulling out his notebook. Lara let out a breath.
Not Lara, she thought.
The cop flipped the book open and found his notes. “Grant,” he read. “Elizabeth Grant.”
And just like that the relief was gone.
Dammit.
Lara followed the officer to the security office and retrieved the tapes.
“The camera facing the entrance stopped working a few minutes before the victim was found,” he said. “I’m assuming you also want the other footage from the floor?”
Lara shook her head. “I want the footage from the entire building.”
The officer snorted. “Of course you do.”
Lara collected the recordings before returning briefly to the crime scene. Dr. Herman Boze, the medical examiner, was held up in traffic, and the forensics guy had already left. An officer remained in the doorway of the dressing room, but no one else was around.
“I’d like to take one more look, if you don’t mind,” she said. He checked her credentials again, then stepped aside. He didn’t