In Death 29 - Kindred in Death

until legal adulthood and escape from the foster system. There had been no pink, no frills, no fuzzy teddy bears beloved since childhood in her world.
    And still, she felt this was the room of a girl still firmly in childhood, just barely approaching the woman she might have been. One who had died living a woman’s worst fear.
    In the center of the pretty, cheerful room, the bed held vicious violence. The tangle of pink and white sheets ruined with rusted blood-stains wound around the body’s legs like rope. He’d used them to bind her feet to the footboard, to keep her legs open for him.
    She’d fought—the bruises and raw marks on her ankles, her thighs where her purple skirt was rucked showed she’d fought, showed he’d raped her violently. At the side of the bed, Eve leaned in, angled down to peer at the police restraints binding the victim’s hands behind her back.
    “Cop cuffs. Vic is a cop’s daughter. Evidence of struggle in bruising and lacerations on wrists. She didn’t go easy. No signs of mutilation. Some bruising on the face indicates physical blows, bruising on neck indicates manual strangulation.”
    She eased open the victim’s mouth, used her penlight and magnifier. “Some threads and fabric in her teeth, on her tongue, blood on her lips, teeth. She bit her lip, deeply. Some blood and possibly saliva on pillowcase. Looks like he used it to smother her. Clothes are askew but not removed, some tearing at the shoulders of the shirt, buttons missing. He pulled at them,” she continued as she worked her way down the body. “Pulled them out of his way, but he wasn’t interested overmuch in the rapist’s foreplay.”
    With care and deliberation, even as her mouth went dry and the back of her head pounded, she examined the damage caused by violent rape.
    “Torture—choke, smother, rape, choke, smother, rape. Vaginally and anally. Repeatedly by the amount of bruising and tearing.” She felt her breath hitch as her lungs tried to shut down, and forced air out. In. Out again. “Blood from vaginal area indicates victim might have been a virgin. ME to confirm.”
    She had to straighten up, had to take a few more calming breaths. She couldn’t afford to switch off the record and settle herself, couldn’t afford to let the record show how much her hands wanted to shake, how much her stomach wanted to roil.
    She knew what it was to be helpless like this, abused like this, terrified like this.
    “At this time it appears the security was engaged. Cameras were subsequently turned off, and all discs removed from premises. There is no visible sign of break-in—Crime Scene Unit to confirm. She opened the door; she let him in. Cop’s kid. She knew him, trusted him. Face-to-face rape and murder. He knew her, wanted to see her face. Personal, very personal.”
    Calmer, she got out her gauges to determine time of death. “TOD three-twenty-six. Primary determines rape-homicide to be confirmed by ME. Dr. Morris is requested if available.”
    “Dallas.”
    It showed Eve how deep into the moment—and into the past—she’d gone—too deep to hear her partner’s approach. She schooled her face to neutral lines and turned to where Peabody stood in the doorway.
    “The kid died hard,” Eve said. “Fought hard, died hard. No tissue under her nails that I can find, but plenty of trace from the sheets. It looks like he held the pillow over her face, she bit it and her own lip. As it’s most likely multiple rapes, he may have gotten off on the struggle. Choked her, too. We should be able to get his handspan from the bruising.”
    “I kind of knew her.”
    Instinctively Eve stepped over, blocking Peabody’s view of the body, forcing her partner to look at her instead. “How?”
    Sorrow, simple and sincere, shone in Peabody’s dark brown eyes. “When I was a rookie, we did this kind of public service thing in schools.” Peabody cleared her throat, pressed her lips together. “She was my liaison, like a student guide. A really sweet, smart kid. I guess she was about eleven or twelve. I was new to New York, too, and she gave me some tips on where to shop and stuff. And, ah, last year she did a report on Free-Agers for school.” Peabody paused, busied herself sealing up. “She got in touch, and I helped her out with some background and personal anecdotes.”
    “Is this going to be a problem for you?”
    “No.” On a breath, Peabody pushed her dark hair back from her face, threading her fingers