"You're very quiet for someone who just bragged about how huge her dick is," the M.E. spoke in a snide tone. "So, tell me what you've got hotshot--"

"Watch your mouth, Lydecker!" a deep voice rumbled. "Who the hell do you think you're talking to!"

Tessa looked toward the scene entrance to see Cole looming there, his eyes flashing fire...and the State Trooper stepping up to block his path.

"I'm talking to Ms. Big Dick here, Dalton!" Lydecker answered. "And you're too close to my crime scene, so get yourself back--"

"You get yourself fucked, you little piss ant!" Cole growled, appearing on the verge of launching himself at the trooper standing in between himself and Lydecker.

"Hey! That's enough! Both of you!" Sheriff Gonzalez ordered as he hurried over, forcing himself in between Cole and the trooper. "This is a crime scene and there is a young woman lying there dead! Have a little respect!"

"Tell Lydecker to have some respect!" Cole bit out through his clenched teeth. "He can talk to his own team anyway he wants, but he won't talk to one of ours like that!"

"Stop foaming, Dalton!" Lydecker shot at Cole. "I'm just waiting to hear what your Special Detective, who demanded access to my crime scene, thinks she's found that my team and I couldn't!"

With a rather startling abruptness, it seemed all eyes turned toward the ruckus...with each and every person loitering around the scene singularly focused on...her. Stiffening, Tessa cleared her throat and moved a few steps toward the barrier tape, feeling her body temperature rise uncomfortably beneath her suit and mask.

Nothing like a little pressure... "Sheriff, I didn't think something might have been missed. I just need to see the scene for myself, while its fresh, because...this makes no sense to me."

"What makes no sense?" the sheriff asked, his brows drawing together.

"It makes no sense that Etty Montrose was killed because someone thought she murdered Hallie Whitmore. And the note... I mean, it implies a revenge killing, but..."

"You can't make it jibe," Cole offered as he moved around the trooper and up to the barrier tape.

She gave her head a shake. "Out of all the people we've questioned so far, not one of them seemed to barely more than care that Hallie is dead. I mean...her sister seems angry, but I can't see her risking her own life by killing Etty Montrose."

Though, Cameran had threatened to strangle the girl if she refused to cooperate...

"But, as Detective Dalton told me, you were asking some pointed questions about Ms. Montrose. And its hard to write off that fairly clear note that was left behind," was the sheriff's opinion.

The note... She couldn't ignore that note. But, she also couldn't ignore her gut. Yes, she had been asking questions about Etty Montrose. Yes, she herself had even seen the woman as a viable suspect. But, even had she been able to eventually prove that Etty was the one responsible for Hallie's death...it still didn't wash that anyone was wrought enough to jump to that conclusion and then take matters into their own hands. Especially not during an active homicide investigation when everyone in Hallie Whitmore's life was already under the microscope.

"Tessa?" Cole spoke. "What are you thinking?"

She was thinking that...aside from insanity, she could only hunt up a limited number of reasons to commit a murder during a murder investigation. Rage fueled revenge...which didn't feel quite right. Desperation...the killer felt, for whatever reason, there was no other choice. Or perhaps...to divert suspicion...or possibly to divert the entire investigation.

It would be a weak and murky attempt, but killing Etty Montrose and leaving a note behind could, feasibly, send the investigation off into an entirely different direction...

 Rather than focusing solely on finding Hallie's killer, one could assume the blame for Hallie's death might be laid at Etty's feet---the girl did make as good a suspect as any---and the hunt would then segue into a search for the person who'd decided to seek a bit of vengeance by killing Etty, causing the entire case to simply...spiral, especially if there was little tangible evidence to follow.

But, either angle did nothing to narrow down the suspect pool.  Everyone in Hallie Whitmore's orbit had been at that benefit dinner, up to and including the two bartenders who'd caught her attention.  Any single one of those people could have managed to find out that she was asking some direct questions about Etty Montrose.  It could have been as easy as overhearing Chloe, Leva, and Danni discussing her conversation with them.

And any single one of those people could have followed Etty away from the Danforthe and simply awaited their opportunity.  Of course, Etty's group of friends likely wouldn't have needed to follow her.  Some of those friends, including Nathan Rutherford, had surely accompanied Etty to the nightclub.  

Which begged the question...where were all those friends while Etty Montrose was getting murdered?

"Tessa?" urged Cole, his voice snapping her back to the moment.  "What's on your mind?"

Wasn't that a loaded question?  "I've decided that we need to stay the course for now and keep working on Hallie Whitmore's murder," she replied, feeling suddenly quite firm in her conviction.

Sheriff Gonzalez's gaze narrowed with uncertainty and he kept his voice low as he spoke. "Stark...are you sure? And I mean damn sure?  The Montrose family will not be happy if we put their daughter's murder on the backburner. They'll likely raise hell.  And the last thing we need is a PR nightmare on top of a botched murder investigation."

"I'm as sure as I can be," she admitted. "Of course, that could change at any minute, depending on forensics--"

"Ah," Lydecker's voice broke in. "So, now you need forensics! Ten minutes ago, you were the forensics expert, were you not?"

Irritation rolled through Tessa even as she watched a measure of ire sweep across Cole's features. "I really just need the cause of death and probable murder weapon," she said over her shoulder. "Unless you want me to lift the body and have a look for myself."

"So, you can do everything else on your own then? Your eagle eye can establish time of death, location of death--"

"Wait, wait!" Sheriff Gonzalez interrupted. "Location of death? There's a dead body in a car. Are you telling me she didn't die inside that car?"

"No.  She died somewhere outside the vehicle, but probably in close proximity to the car, given that no one would want to be seen carrying a body around outside a busy nightclub," Lydecker replied, with slightly less attitude. "But, with the rain last night,  it'll be impossible to pinpoint the exact sight of the attack.  I mean, unless our eagle eyed Special Detective can somehow work that out?"

Something zipped along Tessa's spine and she found herself moving away from the barrier tape and back over to the sports car, again taking in the scene...Etty Montrose sitting in the driver's seat, her torso lying across the console and into the passenger's seat...the watery streaks of blood across her neck and down her chest, seemingly coming from beneath her. But, that blood was the only visible blood evidence that she could see. There was no spatter, no spray, no droplets...

Given how clean the inside of the car appeared, and the fact that the few blood trails on the body itself were going against gravity, almost running uphill,  it would seem that Etty had been killed outside the car and then placed into the driver's seat, her body simply falling over. But...there were details aside from blood splatter that needed to be taken into account.

Etty was soaking wet, obviously from the rain that had swept through, so she'd probably left the club during the storm.  Her purse was beside her, where she would have laid it after getting into the car.  Her phone was clutched in her hands, as if she'd been using it, which she certainly wouldn't have been doing outside the car considering the torrential downpour. 

"I disagree," she stated, feeling an immediate wave of tension ripple across the area.

"Excuse me?" Lydecker intoned as he glared at her. "Do you have an expert opinion to offer, Ms. Big Dick?"

She could only nod in answer. "Yeah. I think you're wrong. I think Etty Montrose could have been killed inside her car."

Lydecker stared at her for a few moments, loathing marring his haughty expression. "Please, school me. Explain how my professional assessment of this crime scene is wrong! Explain how there isn't a drop of blood inside the car, despite the victim suffering multiple puncture wounds to the right side of her neck, which should have caused some form of spray or splatter toward the passenger seat and door. Because, in my opinion, that's not possible, signifying that the victim was attacked outside the vehicle.  And since she was most likely dead within seconds, she collapsed sideways, landing on her left side, which allowed blood leakage from the wounds to run across her body from right to left, blood leakage that was diluted by the rain...which would have been coming down outside the car.  She was then picked up, carried to the car, and placed into the driver's seat."

Lydecker, who was huffing and puffing, made valid technical points. And maybe she would have agreed, had it not been for the cell phone in Etty's hands.  Had she been attacked away from the car, surely the phone would have been dropped as soon as she fell unconscious.

No.  No, Etty had been stabbed while she was sitting in the driver's seat.  And if she was the killer, and she'd followed Etty into the parking lot, intent on stabbing her to death...but Etty was already in her car...

It was possible to stab someone in the right side of their neck from outside the vehicle...

"Well, Ms. Big Dick?  Amaze me with your brilliant powers of deduction!" Lydecker dared, snide and hateful.

Suddenly feeling a bit like she'd been pulled into a classroom show and tell by a nasty teacher, she gave him what he wanted. Spying a suited up young woman standing nearby, clipboard in hand, disbelieving expression on her face, Tessa motioned her over.

"Has the backseat been processed, Ms...?" she asked the girl.

"Its Bradley. And yes, ma'am," came the response.

"Do you have a cell on you?" was her next question.

The girl reached a gloved hand into the pocket of her suit and pulled out a cell. With a nod, Tessa looked to Lydecker, who was standing by with a menacing scowl in place. "Approximately how many wounds did the victim receive to her neck?"

"There's no way to count the exact number of wounds until the body is cleaned up, but at a rough guess, I'd say she was stabbed more than five times, with a small, sharp instrument," came the begrudging answer, puffing up his chest before continuing. "But, like I said, I can tell you that by the position of some of those wounds, the external Jugular, along with the internal Cartoid, were both punctured.  The injury to the Cartoid likely resulted in an air embolism that would have caused death within a matter of seconds, so she certainly did not get herself back into the car after she was attacked!"

Taking that news in, she turned back to Bradley. "Alright. You're the victim. Your clipboard is that huge purse you're carrying. I want you to get into the car and do what you'd normally do with your bag."

Blanching, but following the order, Bradley moved to the back driver side and gingerly slid into the seat, mimicking taking her purse off and laying her clipboard beside her, which would be on the middle console...exactly where Etty Montrose had laid her own purse.

"You have your phone in your hands, so you're either checking your phone or texting your friends," was her next command.

Bradley, her phone clasped in her hands, looked down, using her thumbs to mime typing out a text. With the girl sitting inside the car, and knowing there were wounds on the opposite side of her neck...which were not made by anyone sitting beside her in the passenger seat...there was only one way she could think of to make those wounds, while at the same time leaving no blood splatter inside the car itself.

Stepping up beside Bradley, who automatically looked up toward her, she reached in and took hold of the paper hood covering the girl's head. With just enough force to prove her point, she quickly tugged Bradley sideways, pulling nearly her entire torso out of the car and forcing her head downward...which left the right side of her face and neck exposed. Simply out of reflex, Bradley gasped, her hands holding her cell phone instantly curling up to her chest to avoid dropping it. Keeping her movements swift, she imitated stabbing the girl several times in the neck...which would have sent any blood spurt or splatter straight up into the air...during the middle of a downpour...and would also have allowed the blood to run across her neck and down her chest from right to left...then she lifted Bradley back upright.

"Now, fall sideways," she said, which Bradley did...winding up with her head and shoulders lying in the passenger seat, her imaginary purse beneath her, and the cell phone still clutched to her chest.

Tessa then stepped back, turning her attention to Lydecker, who was watching her reconstruction with a tight, red faced expression and hard eyes. "Etty Montrose was stabbed while sitting in her car," she told the man plainly. "You really should think about letting an on sight detective offer up opinions on your crime scenes before you write your reports from now on, because your professional opinion could have had me out looking for the wrong person."

Not to mention the fact that an M.E.'s official report, going against the investigating detective's theory of events, could get a case tossed out of court, which might allow a murderer to go free.

"Now, wait a minute! How would I be responsible for that! If you're right, we're talking a difference of maybe a few feet--"

"A few feet separating Etty Montrose from the front seat of her car," she cut in firmly.  "You said death occurred within seconds.  If she was dead that fast, then you're right, someone would've had to physically get her to the car and then into the seat. A hundred and ten pounds of limp weight isn't easy to maneuver and since I don't see any signs on her legs that she was dragged across concrete, we'll have to believe that she was carried those few feet. I couldn't do that. Bradley probably couldn't do that. Most women probably couldn't dead lift Etty Montrose, let alone carry her. At least, not by themselves. So, am I looking for a man who's strong enough to carry a dead body? Or am I looking for a couple of women who were working together? If you insist she was carried those few feet, I'd likely start focusing on finding a man--"

"Alright, Detective Stark," Sheriff Gonzalez's voice broke in. "I think you've proved your point. And you've properly chastised our M.E...who I'll be having a few words with a bit later, in private."

Tessa looked back to Bradley, motioning for her to leave the car before turning her attention to Lydecker, who did look on the verge of exploding all over her. "Now I'm pulling out my dick. I want that cell phone cleared and in my hands before I leave here. And I want your full preliminary report on my desk before lunch."

She tossed that last bit in just out spite, figuring that would never happen, but making the demand did make her feel better. Leaving Lydecker to stare after her, she got herself back through the red barrier tape, instantly stripping off the thick facial mask and pulling in a breath of fresh air.

"Alright, people, back to what you were doing! The show's over!" the sheriff called out and time abruptly resumed, causing all the frozen bodies standing around to jolt into motion and quickly disperse.

"So, what's our next move?" Cole asked rather hoarsely as she began unzipping her paper jumpsuit.

"I'd like to know that myself, Special Detective, because this could go either way for my office," Sheriff Gonzalez stated. "Either the Montrose family will be thanking us for finding who murdered their daughter and proving that she wasn't a murderer herself....or the Montrose family will raise hell, probably very publicly, because we didn't go after the person who murdered their daughter when we should have. And let's not forget that Rogers probably bungled this case and if he hadn't, their daughter might not have died at all!"

"Sheriff, I trust that if anybody can figure this mess out, it'll be Tessa," Cole stated with a measure of certainty. "And what she can't figure out, maybe I can. So, its probably best to try and keep the press and the family off her and just...let her run."

Sheriff Gonzalez pulled in a heavy breath and closed his eyes for a few seconds. "Detective Stark, do you really think Etty Montrose's death wasn't a revenge killing? Despite the note left in her car? I mean, you truly think the best course of action is to keep going after Hallie Whitmore's killer?"

"There's every chance I could be completely wrong," she admitted, stepping out of the suit and wadding it up. "I mean, I saw Etty Montrose as a viable suspect in Hallie Whitmore's murder.  She was stalking Hallie Whitmore's fiancé, cat fighting any woman that he got close with..."

"Those are good reasons all to suspect Ms. Montrose.  So, if you don't think this is a revenge killing, Stark, then why in hell is Etty Montrose dead?" Sheriff Gonzalez asked that very poignant question.

Why was Etty Montrose dead, with a note...I know...left lying at her feet...

A revenge killing in the middle of an ongoing investigation, when the detective investigating the case was openly asking questions about Etty Montrose? There were crimes of passion and then there was just blatant stupidity. And most people were not that stupid.

Hallie Whitmore's killer hadn't been stupid.

The killer was smart enough to murder Hallie on a deserted stretch of road and leave little to no evidence behind. And now there was Etty Montrose...stabbed in the neck, just like Hallie Whitmore, likely in a way that left little to no evidence behind...

Committing a second murder to throw law enforcement off the trail had certainly been done before. But, there was no trail. There was no evidence. She'd only been on the case for a couple of days. There was no reason to panic. No reason to risk themselves, to risk creating more potential problems, when there was a better than average chance that they'd gotten away with the first murder.

Certainly, Etty's death would have to be worth risking those problems.

But, the note...I know.

I know.

A sudden notion struck Tessa, one that made her pulse speed up by a measure.

What if Etty...who was an intimate part of Hallie Whitmore's circle...had seen or heard something.  What if she'd somehow managed to figure out what had happened to Hallie?  And what if...Etty had passed that note to the killer.

What if...Etty knew?  

It wouldn't have been a move that most people might make, but Etty Montrose was not only a rich girl, she was also a mean girl and a bully. That might make someone feel invincible...feel that she could use what she'd figured out to intimidate or...coerce someone into doing anything she wanted them to do.  Like, for instance, steering clear of Nathan Rutherford.

Or perhaps, come to that, trying to force Nathan Rutherford to steer clear of all the other women...