“I can tell you he died yesterday. I assume he was hung off the bridge in the middle of the night or early morning. I’ll get you a closer time frame by tomorrow. I’d say the timeline resembles the Scott case in that he was dumped about the same number of hours after his actual death.”

“So while Portland was being shocked by the death of a congressman, our guy was quietly preparing his next victim,” Ava stated. “It has to have been done by the same guy. We haven’t released enough details for someone to imitate the first death. This scene is too close to be a copycat.”

“Unless someone talked,” added Zander. “A lot of people got a look at Carson Scott. Cops, crime scene techs. I’m not ruling out a copycat yet.”

“I think the lab reports will state the tape and padding came from the same source. It looks damned close to my eye,” said Dr. Rutledge. “Those two things should strongly indicate this man was killed by the same person who murdered Carson Scott.”

“I wonder if the victims knew each other,” Ava said. “They look close to the same age. Both clean-cut. Decent shape.”

“This boy is blue-collar,” said Dr. Rutledge. “He’s no politician.”

All three investigators looked at the medical examiner expectantly. Dr. Rutledge uncurled the body’s stiff fingers, and they nodded in agreement. The man’s hands were black under the fingernails and in the lines. The palms and fingers were heavily calloused. Ava leaned closer and sniffed. “Cars. I can smell oil or tires. He works on cars. Daily.”

“Yep,” said Mason. “Hard to get that stuff off. Smells more like tires to me.”

“Definitely not a politician,” said Zander. He pulled a notebook out of his pocket and made a notation.

“How are we going to identify this one?” Mason questioned. “Ask for missing mechanics?”

“This guy has a tattoo,” the examiner pointed out. Seth shifted the right leg to expose the back of the calf. The skin was dark purple with lividity, but Ava could see the outline of a dragon. “You can release that information. That should narrow down the missing person reports.”

Ava exchanged a glance with Mason and Zander. Both men nodded.

“I’ll have the office put the word out,” she said.

Who are you? And why did he kill you, too?

7

Mason parked on the street in front of his home and watched in his rearview mirror as Ava guided her bureau vehicle into the driveway. He’d never parked in his single-car garage because it was too crowded for a vehicle. When Ava had started spending the night, he’d given up his driveway parking space for her car.

If he parked behind her, she’d be trapped if she needed to leave in the middle of the night.

It was one of the small changes he’d made to ease her way into his life. It wasn’t a big deal. In fact, altering his bachelor frame of mind to relearn how to live with a woman hadn’t taken much effort. At one time he’d liked being married and meshing his life with a woman’s. His ex-wife had rarely had complaints; she’d simply hated that he worked so much. She’d felt like a single parent raising their son.

She’d been right.

With Ava it was just the two of them. They both worked crazy hours and looked forward to the moments they did have together.

He liked the softer element she’d brought to his life. Now his towels matched. His couch had useful pillows and warm throws. Every night she set the coffeepot to brew, so he woke up to fresh coffee and someone to drink it with. When he’d lived alone, he could have programmed the pot, but he’d always forgotten and never wanted to wait for it to brew. He’d usually hit the drive-through coffee place.

He couldn’t explain how it felt to share the nice little things with someone.

Who would have thought that sharing a cup of coffee in the morning would be one of the highlights of his day?

She stepped out of her car, and it struck him how beautiful she was. She wasn’t glamorous; she was girl-next-door wholesome. Dark-blue eyes and a warm smile. She usually kept her brown hair in a conservative ponytail for work. When she was home, she let it down so it constantly got in her eyes, and she’d impatiently tuck it behind her ears. As soon as Mason had professionally worked with her clever mind and heard her low laugh, he’d been hooked tighter than a cat’s claw in a knitted throw. She was the whole package.

So why is she with you?

He stomped on the annoying fear. It cropped up occasionally, but when she smiled at him and held his gaze, his stomach did weird happy things and that one fear vanished.

The age difference doesn’t matter.

Now she gave him one of those smiles as she waited for him in the driveway and the misting rain dotted her hair with sparkles from the streetlight. They’d stopped at a nearby pub for a quick dinner after a long day of following leads on Carson Scott. The second body still didn’t have a name, but the evening news had brought up the calf tattoo, and he knew the body would be identified within a few hours.

“Zander called me on my way home,” Ava said as he approached. “Dr. Rutledge let him know that the second victim wasn’t sexually assaulted. In fact, he believes the ball gag was placed after the victim was dead.”

Mason made a face. “So what was the point of the ball gag?”

“That’s what we need to find out.” She gave him a kiss and took his hand, leading him to the front door. It was nearly ten P.M. Bed sounded tempting.