Once Kerry and Steven hit SR 60, they headed east, parallel to I-4. The crime scene area wasn’t hard to find. Police cars with flashing lights lined the road leading to the Bay.

A guard stopped them at the entrance. Once Steven showed his ID from the Medical Examiners’ office, the guard waved them through. Because the place was swarming with cops, she scanned the area looking for Hunter. Disappointment grabbed her when she realized he wasn’t there.

Kerry pointed to John’s van and Steven pulled in next to him. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll have Dr. A take me back.”

“Sure. Have fun and stay safe.”

Have fun? She doubted it. Staying safe was easy among a mob of police. She waved goodbye to Steven and headed to the scene with her equipment in tow.

John was on his knees looming over the victim’s body. She walked up behind him and looked over his shoulder. Apparently, he was so engrossed in taking notes, he didn’t notice her shadow hanging over him.

Kerry studied the female. Her face was flat, her skin decaying. The woman looked like she’d been in the water a good month. Small holes and tears appeared at random intervals in her mostly intact clothes. Those might have been the result of fish feasting on her. The sea creatures had already had a celebration with her eyeballs.

Kerry stepped to the side and her shadow moved. The medical examiner jerked around. “Hey. Thanks for coming. I thought you’d like to see what a dead body with her soft tissue looks like.” He smiled.

“Thanks, but I think I’d rather stick to skeletal remains. They’re cleaner and easier to handle.”

“Your loss.” He chuckled. “Hey, at least she only smells like salt water.”

“Agreed. Any identification on her?”

He shook his head. John adjusted the female’s light brownish-red hair, which had begun to slip off her scalp. Kerry placed her case on the ground and knelt beside him.

“How can I help?” she asked.

“Tell me what you see?”

John was the expert. She only did bones, but there was a small thrill in being asked to give her opinion. “I’m afraid Steven filled me in on her age. He told me the vic was between thirty and thirty-five, but I’m betting the bloating would help reduce the facial wrinkling somewhat, which would give her a more youthful, if not dead, appearance. I’d say she’s closer to forty than thirty-five.”

He gave her a small smile. “Quite good. What else?”

Kerry took her time studying the body. “From the shape of her face, I’m guessing Hispanic.”

“I agree. And her height and weight?” John seemed to enjoy her impromptu evaluation.

“Taking the bloating into consideration, I’d say five foot three and weight about one seventy.” Kerry gloved her hand and tilted the head to one side, and then the other. A fresh, red scar went from the victim’s right ear to half way under her chin. “From the neat stitch job, I’d say she had some kind of plastic surgery quite recently.”

Her gut reacted in a bad way. Maybe the heat was getting to her.

Hunter’s comment about plastic surgeons raced back to her. Surely there wasn’t a connection between this woman who’d been dumped in the Bay and those she’d found buried in the construction site. Killers didn’t usually change their MOs, or so Hunter had claimed.

“Good catch.” John lifted the vic’s shoulder and leaned the body away from Kerry. The woman’s cause of death was evident. “One shot to the back of the head probably killed her. If she wasn’t dead when she hit the water, she was shortly thereafter.”

Kerry sat back on her haunches. The effect of the salt air mixed with the heat made her stomach queasy. Next time, she’d bring a large brimmed hat to help keep the sun off her face. The cap she wore to prevent leaving any trace at the crime scene was enough to raise her core temp by a couple of degrees.

Once the crime scene techs finished measuring and photographing the area, John zipped up the victim. “Let’s bring her back to the morgue for an autopsy,” he said to one of the techs. His gaze remained on the men until they’d finished loading the body into a van. He swiveled back to her. “Anything else you noticed?”

“It’s hard to be sure, but I’d say the woman spent little on her wardrobe. The wear pattern on the soles of the sneakers implied she’d owned them for quite some time.”

“I noticed the clothes didn’t match either. From the workmanship, I’d say she was wearing hand-me-downs.” John closed his med kit and ratcheted his body to a stand.

“Your arthritis getting to you?”

“A little.”

Kerry gathered her instruments. “Are you thinking she might have been a regular visitor to Goodwill or maybe even a women’s shelter?”

“Shelter?” He shielded his eyes with one hand.

“I guess I’m having difficulty separating my four buried bodies from this one.” Kerry gave him the rundown of possible theories.

He walked toward his van, his job over for now. “I’ll keep your idea in mind when I autopsy her. I guess she’s Jane Doe #5.”

* * *

Kerry was quite happy to be back at the morgue. At least in the cool room, she wouldn’t suffer from heat exhaustion. While John began the autopsy on the new victim, Kerry pulled #4 from the body bag and turned the burner to low.

As she cut and scraped the dead tissue from the bones, she dropped the finished bones in the warm, soapy water. The chore required concentration since she had to cut close enough to remove the skin, but not so close to mar the bone.

Before she knew it, over an hour had passed. Not wanting to keep Hunter from Melissa any longer than necessary, she called it a day. Kerry phoned Hunter to tell him she was ready for him to pick her up.

She turned off the burner and decided to let the bones soak overnight. The stench of the cooked flesh gagged her, forcing her to adjust her mask and closed the hood.

Next she rewrapped what was left of the body and placed #4 in the morgue cooler. Tomorrow, she’d finish the bone cleaning. Only then would she have time to work on the plaster mold of the skull. No way would she chance losing the original head again to the thief.

The clean up took close to a half hour. As she wiped the last of the counters, someone knocked on her autopsy door and the pushed it open.

Hunter. Though he looked tired, his broad shoulders and chiseled jaw sent her hormones soaring. Her face heated.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Good Lord. Could he tell she’d had a momentary fantasy? “Wrong? Nothing. I was outside in the heat for a long time. Do I look pink or something?” She was proud of her good catch.

“No, you look...”

Her mom always told her she never could hide her deepest emotions. “Sad perhaps?” she asked.

“I am. The police found a body floating in McKay Bay today. The female victim had been shot once in the back of the head and dumped in the water with a cement block around her waist to cover the crime.” Kerry pushed back the despair. “Her death seemed so senseless.”

“Welcome to Tampa. You ready to go?”

Apparently, he wasn’t the type to become personally involved with every victim. She needed to learn that skill.

“Hunter, there was something about this woman that made me think she might be related to my Jane Does.”

“Why don’t you tell me on the way home?”

Kerry grabbed her purse, shut off the light, and locked the door. She trailed after him.

“The victim was dressed poorly.” He turned around, and when he opened his mouth, she rushed on. “John and I believe she might have been a recent visitor to a shelter. And get this. There were fresh scars behind her ear, which implied she’d had surgery. Plastic surgery perhaps.”

His face showed no reaction. In fact, he didn’t seem to get the connection. Aw hell, maybe her imagination was getting the best of her.

He lifted a hand and placed it on her shoulder. Warmth spread straight to her groin. “We’ll take her photo to the shelters to see if anyone can identify her.”

“Really? So you think the same person might have killed all five women?”

He opened the front door of the building. “Now that’s a stretch. If she was shot in the head, then dumped in the Bay, the MOs aren’t anything alike. But I won’t discount your gut feeling.”

They exited the building. Even though it was close to six at night, the heat blasted her. “Thank you.”

“I received the lab results back on the break-in at your house.” Hunter placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her across the street.

Kerry looked up at him. “Did they find anything?”

They reached the other side of the street and walked to the parking lot. “The thief used a bump key to get in your house. That’s why we couldn’t tell there was any forced entry.”

“A what key?”

“Get in the cruiser and I’ll tell you.” He closed the door and rushed over to his side. “A bump key. Most people buy only a few brands of locks, like the ones found at home stores. This makes it easy for the thief to make a key that unlocks the door.”

“I don’t understand.”

Hunter started the car and immediately flipped the AC to high. “In a nutshell, the thief purchases an uncut key that fits the particular brand of lock and cuts all the ridges the same height. It takes a little practice, but when he inserts the key into the lock, and then pulls it out just a little, it makes a clicking sound. He’ll use a hammer or even the handle of a screwdriver to tap this new key just so. This allows the key to bump the tumblers into place.”

“That’s horrible. Are you saying anyone can break into any house at will?” That must have been the scratching noise she’d heard coming from the kitchen. And here, she’d thought Buster had gotten loose.

“Not if they have an alarm system or more distinctive locks.”

“That gives me the chills thinking about it.”

“Come on. I promise no one is going to break into my house. I have state of the art protection.”

It didn’t hurt to have a gun-toting Hunter around either. She’d have to call Grandpa to see what kind of new locks he’d installed on the doors.

“Did the lab find any fingerprints or trace elements to connect them to a particular person?” she asked.

“No. This person was careful, but not perfect. He dragged in little pieces of seashells on your kitchen floor.”

Seashells? “Grandpa’s house is miles from the beach.”

“Testing showed no trace of salt on the shells either. We’re now looking for someone who walked on a shell drive.” Hunter slipped onto Morgan Street.

“That’s a long shot.”

“True. But that wasn’t the only piece of evidence. While we didn’t find any discernable fingerprints inside the house, we found a footprint outside the back door.”

“Did you check to see if the print belonged to my grandfather? He goes out that way to walk the dog twice a day.”

“We checked his shoes, and they weren’t a match. The lab techs came out and made a mold of the imprint. Turns out it belongs to a Nike shoe, about size 10.”

“So all we need is to find someone with that shoe size who has a shelled drive.”

“You’ve got it.”

* * *

Kerry finished wiping down the morgue counter for the tenth time this morning. She was ready. Ready to show the world her second facial reconstruction.

This creation had taken more than a week to complete because of the work she’d had to do to prepare #4’s body for analysis. Kerry hadn’t been willing to work on the face at Hunter’s house. Melissa might have been upset to see a dead woman’s skull. After all, she’d only lost her mom two years ago. Knowing how a six-year old mind worked, Melissa would have asked a thousand questions, questions Kerry didn’t feel comfortable answering.

She checked her watch again. She had a few minutes before she had to leave for her TV interview.

Wanting to show off her creation to John, she carried her clay face across the hall, holding onto the base with both hands. She opened the door with her hip and stepped into his autopsy room. God, but the man kept this place colder than a freezer. He looked up over his mask, his eyes sparkling.

“You finished!” he mumbled under the surgical mask. He slipped off the mouth covering cloth, set his scalpel on a metal tray, and walked over to her. He took the base from her hands and twirled the sculpture around. “It looks wonderful. We may have to use you in the future to do other clay reconstructions.”

She hadn’t known she’d done that fine of a job. “Thanks. Hunter’s on his way to pick me up. A reporter will interview Hunter and me at the sheriff’s department.”

“You less nervous this time around?”

“Much. Hunter will do most of the talking anyway. I’m just there to point out a few interesting characteristics that might help a relative identify her.”

Kerry glanced over at the table. “Is that the woman from the bay?”

“Yes. The bullet killed her.” He handed the skull back to her. “Here’s the sad part.”

Kerry stepped over to the table. While her stomach and nose could handle the decomposition, her heart ached at seeing the woman cut up.

John pulled apart the abdomen. “Look here.”

“She was pregnant?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Now the police would have to tell her relatives both the woman and her unborn child were dead. “Let’s hope we can identify her soon. The father of the child must be out of his mind with worry.”

“Or he did the deed.”

Kerry increased her hold on the base. “I have to go. The television crew won’t wait forever.”

“Good luck.”

“Do you mind?” With both hands clasping the #4 model, Kerry angled her head forward for John to open the autopsy door.

As she walked back to her lab, another door whipped opened and smashed into Kerry’s shoulder. She faltered. Her foot caught, causing her to stumble.

Someone behind her jerked her arm back to steady her causing her fingers to let go of the base.

“Steady,” a familiar voice said.

The clay model flew out of her hands. As Kerry opened her mouth to tell him to let go of her arm so she could catch the head, the damned thing landed with a thunk before she got the words out. “Noooo!”

On its base, the model teetered, then rolled over onto the side of the face.

Kerry spun around. “Look what you did!” She hadn’t meant to blame Steven for the accident. He hadn’t been the one to open the door, but he had pulled back on her arm.

“It’s my fault,” a young girl said, her mouth half open. “I just opened the door. I’m sorry.”

Kerry took a deep breath. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I can fix the damage.”

Heart pounding, she picked up her precious model and raced back to her lab. One cheek and part of the right lip had sagged. With her sculpting tool, she repaired the damage, then immediately placed the item in a safe cardboard box.

She needed to make sure the model was steady on the ride over. Hopefully, bubble wrap would do the trick. The last thing she needed was for Jane’s face to fall over again in the car and get smashed. Just in case, she brought a few tools to do damage control. Heat wasn’t kind to clay.

Hunter was waiting for her outside. Once again, she was struck by how handsome he looked in his midnight blue uniform.

“Hey,” he said.

His gaze held steady on her face. For a moment she thought the quick makeup job she’d done right before she left looked uneven. “Something wrong?”

He laughed. Actually laughed. The spurt of joy surprised her. “No.” He started the engine and left.

In relatively light traffic, they arrived twenty minutes later. “We need to hurry,” he said.

The same cameraman, Josh something, was in the conference room doing lighting checks. Liz Culbertson greeted Kerry like an old friend, helping to relax her.

Liz asked the same questions as before, and the interview lasted less than fifteen minutes. A second after the last answer, the two News Channel 8 people disappeared.

Hunter lifted the head from Kerry’s hands. “I think we better keep this in our evidence room. We can’t chance losing this one.”

She believed the head would be safe back at the morgue, but why take the unnecessary risk? “Fine.” Hunter had half turned around when she decided now would be as good a time to ask him the question that had been burning in her brain all day. “I’d like to watch the news at my grandfather’s house tonight. Do you mind?”

His jaw tightened. “That’s not a good idea. Look what happened the last time we went live.”

Damn him. She knew he’d bring up the phone call. “If the angry man needs to reach me, he’ll call me at Grandpa’s. He doesn’t know I’ve been hiding at your place for the last two weeks.”

He hesitated. “I don’t want to leave Melissa with Jen again tonight, and I don’t want you to be alone in case the man calls.”

“Then bring her! I’d love for my grandfather to meet her. The two of them would get along wonderfully. And I’ll make dinner. I’ll ask Grandpa to pick me up. I’ll leave work early and stop by the store.”

His lips firmed. “You know the thief knows where you live. If he’s also the killer, you don’t want to be running around unprotected.”

She smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll have Grandpa carry his gun.”

* * *

Hunter was proud of Melissa as she watched the beginning of the news. She didn’t whine or squirm in her seat. More surprising, she hadn’t clung to his side when they arrived at Tom Hardy’s place. Maybe sitting next to her new best friend, Kerry, helped. His daughter was turning into a wonderful young lady.

The broadcast switched to Kerry holding the head standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him.

“That’s you, Daddy.”

Kerry ran a hand down Melissa’s head. “It sure is. Would you do me a favor, sweetie?”

His daughter looked up at her. “Sure.”

“My grandfather locked the puppy up in his bedroom. I can hear him cry. He’s lonely. Would you mind playing with him for a bit?”

She swiveled around. “Can I, Daddy?”

Why hadn’t he thought of that? Little girls shouldn’t watch all this death. Besides, how could a father say no to her bright smile? “Sure.”

“I’ll show her where it is,” Tom said.

“Thanks.”

Hunter had only glanced at the first newscast that showcased #1. This time was different. He concentrated on Kerry, on how pretty she looked and how elegantly she spoke. Kerry looked more relaxed tonight, both on and off screen, than she had the first time she’d appeared on camera.

Once their presentation concluded, Kerry flipped off the TV just as Tom and Melissa came back with Buster at her heels.

Kerry stood and smiled down at his daughter. “Are you ready to help me get dinner?”

“Yes!”

Hunter’s pulse spiked at the sparkle in his daughter’s eyes. Melissa missed her mom, needed a woman’s touch.

He couldn’t help but stare long after the two disappeared into the kitchen.

“Sweet little girl you got there, Hunter,” Tom said.

He jerked to attention. “Yes she is. I wish I had more time to spend with her, but the job takes a lot of my focus.”

“I hear ya,” Kerry’s grandfather said.

They sat in awkward silence for a long moment. “I wanted to thank you for letting my Kerry stay with you. I can’t protect her like I used to.” The sadness in the old man’s voice tugged at his heart.

“I don’t think I’m doing much in the way of protecting. It’s more like I’m letting her hide at my place.”

“Well, I’m glad she has you to look out for her. I miss her cooking though. She’s a fine chef.”

“Kerry’s a remarkable woman.” Her culinary skills weren’t what drew him to her. Her passion in needing to identify the dead told him a lot about Kerry as a person. She had a lot of inner strength, spunk, and sincerity.

As long as they were talking about Kerry, now was Hunter’s chance to learn more about her. “What made her leave her job in Ohio and come to Tampa?” He wasn’t about to ask about any exes floating around.

She’d not been willing to share much with him. Kerry answered only when Melissa asked a question. Share, hell. When Hunter had touched her waist to help her reach a bowl in the top cabinet, Kerry had stiffened. Hunter wanted to find out who’d done a number on her.

Her grandfather wagged a finger. “You’ll have to ask her yourself, young man. I stay out of her affairs.”

Before Hunter could formulate another question, the phone in the kitchen rang, and every muscle in his body tensed. He sprang up from the chair and rushed into the kitchen. Kerry seemed frozen at the stove, staring at the phone. Melissa was at the sink washing her hands.

He wiggled his fingers for Kerry to answer the call. Hunter sidestepped to the sink. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s give Kerry some privacy.” The phone kept ringing.

“Why can’t I stay, Daddy?”

“Kerry’s grandpa wants to show you something.” The sharp shrill pierced his heart. Answer it, Kerry!

“Okay!” Melissa skipped out. Not wanting the caller to hang up, Hunter strode to the wall phone, picked up the receiver, and held it to Kerry’s ear, leaving enough space for him to listen. Their cheeks practically touched, as did their fingers. He held his breath, waiting for the caller to speak.