“What’d you find?” Nora asked.

“Dr. Trask was right that he was shot before the fire.” He tipped his head at Gianna. “But before that he was hit twice in the head. Hard. First on the back of the head and then on the left temple. The blows were enough to eventually be the cause of death, but the two shots assured his death. I suspect he was lying down when he was shot . . . he probably fell after the blows to the head.”

“I didn’t see any evidence that he was shot in the cabin. There wasn’t a blood pool,” said Gianna. “Plus I believe Violet would have heard shots if it’d happened after we were out in my truck.”

Dr. Rutledge looked at Nora. “Did you find bullet holes under him? The angle of the entry and exit wounds indicate a prone position to me.”

Nora knew the body had been shot elsewhere. The lack of bullet holes in the floor and Dr. Rutledge’s assessment of the gunshot angles backed it up. “No bullet holes were found in the floor near the body. No shells nearby either. But we recovered the slugs and shells from the shots at the forest ranger.” She glanced at Chris Jacobs. Her research on him had indicated that he owned nearly a dozen weapons. Five of them rifles.

His face gave her no clue to his thoughts.

“You’re welcome to compare my weapons,” he stated.

Nora nodded. It was already on her list, but she had a hunch it wouldn’t bear fruit.

“Then our John Doe was moved to his position in the cabin very soon after he was shot,” Dr. Rutledge continued. “Lividity matches up with the photographs of the position he was found in.”

“English, please,” said Chris.

“Blood is prey to gravity immediately after death,” said Gianna. “It settles in the tissues of the lowest point of the body and stays there, creating dark patterning in those tissues. He was on his left side when I saw him and Frisco took the first photos.”

“Got it,” said Chris. “But how do you know he took a blow to the back of the head before the temple?”

Nora saw Gianna start to speak, then defer to Dr. Rutledge, who grinned at her restraint. “Can I see your notebook?” he asked Nora. Her current small notebook was tucked under her arm. Her notes were organized and legible. Not scribbles on a wrinkled flimsy pad like some detectives’.

She flipped it to a blank page. A small twinge of vulnerability shot through her as she handed over her book. Her cases relied on what she wrote in that book, and her hands abruptly felt empty and useless.

Dr. Rutledge drew a large circle. “Here’s the skull. The first blow was enough to send cracks from the point of impact. Think of the blow like a kid’s drawing of a sun.” He drew a tiny circle for the impact site and added a series of lines that shot out like rays from a sun. “These cracks follow the path of least resistance, creating a distinct pattern. Now the second blow over here doesn’t have the freedom of expression that the first blow did.” He drew a small impact site and started to give it the same sun rays. “The cracks from the second site will be blocked when they come to the first site’s cracks.” His lines stopped as they tried to cross the first set of lines. “We look for which site has the unblocked cracks. That’s our first impact.”

“Fascinating,” Chris said softly. “I can’t imagine what it looks like when someone has taken a dozen blows to the head with a hammer.”

“That’s a tougher puzzle to solve,” admitted Gianna.

Nora watched Chris’s hand creep up to touch the back of his own skull. He’d spent months in the hospital after he was found. Head trauma had been only one item on the long list of his injuries.

“There’s a distinct muzzle stamp around both of the bullet entrances,” added Dr. Rutledge. “Even with the burns from the fire, I can still see it. The gun was pressed against his skull when it was fired.”

“Caliber?” asked Nora, knowing it would be only a guess from the medical examiner, since the bullets were still missing.

“Not small. Big enough to blow through his skull in a straight line. Unless the perpetrators dug up the floor or ground where they shot him, I imagine they’re buried and waiting to be found.”

“So we agree the cabin wasn’t the murder scene for John Doe,” Nora stated.

“Correct,” said Dr. Rutledge. “Obviously it was for Francisco Green, but I haven’t gotten to him yet.”

“Why go through the trouble of dumping the body in an occupied cabin?” Chris asked. “Either Gianna and Violet were in the cabin when it was placed or it was put in there right after they got out.”

“Wouldn’t Violet have seen someone with a body when she was in your vehicle?” Nora asked.

“I know she slept part of the time,” said Gianna. “But from what I understand, she was focused on me in the backseat and the windows steamed immediately. Under the cover of dark, it could have happened. I think it’s more likely than someone doing it while I was sleeping on the main floor.”

Chris shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. Is someone trying to make a point with his death?”

Nora agreed. “That’s what I’m here to find out.” She knew she’d be closer to the answer once she figured out the identity of the victim. “What do you have so far to help us identify him?” she asked the examiner.

Dr. Rutledge blew out a breath. “Caucasian male in his fifties or sixties. Gray hair, five foot ten, medium build, poor muscle tone. Extensive dental work. Implants have replaced three of his front teeth and he’s had other cosmetic dental work done on his front teeth. Expensive work. I need to take a closer look at all his films, but right off I noticed old breaks in his right radius and ulna.”