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“Natalie was missing some cheap jewelry. A necklace and earrings.”
He knew all of this. They matched and had been a birthday gift from her friend. Inexpensive and impossible to mistake for the real deal, which was why it was noteworthy that it was missing. Wes took the folder from Bailey’s hand, set it back in the box, covered it, and set it on the floor. “There’s nothing in there that I’ve forgotten.”
Bailey waited a beat, then reached for the paperwork on the table in front of her chair. “The sorority girl from Columbia had bruises on her wrist where it looks like someone tried to remove a beaded friendship bracelet. It was knotted on with embroidery string tight enough to keep it from slipping over her wrist.”
“You think her killer tried to take off the bracelet and failed?”
“Perhaps.”
“Even if that’s the case, it’s a stretch to compare it to Natalie’s case.”
She held up the sorority girl’s autopsy, flipping the pages, then read, “A narrow, linear abrasion apparent transversely on the posterior of the neck. Measuring 10.2 centimeters. This ligature injury is separate from the ligature injury described above and does not appear to have contributed to the cause of death.”
A cold chill ran down his spine. Natalie’s autopsy had a similar note. The abrasion was much shorter and directly at the back of her neck where the necklace had been yanked, and the clasp gave way, but not before digging into her skin. Bailey caught his eye. She set the autopsy down and lifted a picture of a similar injury to Natalie’s, but slightly thinner and longer.
Wes cleared his throat. “How was the sorority girl strangled again?”
“With her underwear.”
He dropped his laptop bag on the table and lowered himself into his chair. Sure, there were similarities, but the differences were more apparent. “Underwear versus stockings. New York City versus Washington, DC. At least two hundred miles, and what? Nine years apart?”
She eased into her chair. Disappointment creased her forehead. “It just feels…”
He let the silence hang. “Frustrating.”
“Yeah, maybe,” she said quietly.
Wes reached for the bakery bag she’d set on the table and ripped it open, revealing two buttery croissants dusted with confectioners’ sugar. Bailey didn’t reach for hers. He nudged the open bag toward her. “They both have chocolate.”
She released a heavy breath and reached for her croissant.
Pressure in his chest eased when she took a small bite. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, Bailey. Just that the circumstances of the two cases aren’t that unique, and neither has anything to do with your sister, which is our focus, right?”
She nibbled the croissant. “Right.”
“But, speaking of strange coincidences, Dean found information on strangulation victims who were missing glasses. Similar victims.”
“I don’t suppose they’re nine years apart?”
His lips quirked. “No such luck. Three years apart.”
Bailey let out another long sigh. “All right. I went down a rabbit hole that had nothing to do with what we were working on. The rest of the day is only for Caitie.” She tore the croissant in half and took a larger bite from the center. “And if I wander off topic, nudge me back in the right direction.”
“Deal.”
Her phone chimed. She read the message and smiled when she looked up. “Guess what?”
“Not a clue.” But the excitement in her eyes said it was good news.
“The New Jersey roommate can meet with us tomorrow. You’re still my road trip buddy?”
“For the time being, sweetness, I’m your ride or die.”
Chapter Ten
Bailey had been awake since the sun rose, and now, with Matt snuggling into her side in her in-laws’ living room, she stroked his hair. He flipped through a favorite book he’d long ago memorized as they waited for Wes to arrive at the Cosgrove estate.
He’d be there any moment, and anticipation for their trip to New Jersey fluttered in her stomach. They’d prepared for the interview and worked out the logistics. She’d arranged for Matt to stay with Kimbra and Angus. Those were all things she could control. But Bailey couldn’t control what Caitie’s roommate, Jennifer Yang, would share, and Jennifer was a jumpy, nervous woman Bailey hadn’t expected to agree to talk.
