As if in so doing, he could relieve her pain.
An emotional, irrational response.
And yet he wanted to somehow change the horrible spectacle.
But he had to wait.
For the forensics team.
For the medical examiner.
For science to help him locate her killer and bring the prick to justice.
As he stared at the dangling body, he hoped beyond hope that Jamison wouldn’t want to see her this way, displayed like a prized buck, ready to be drained of the last of its blood before being butchered.
Beside him, Sol moved closer, training her flashlight on Naomi’s bare abdomen. “Did you say—?”
Thunderous footsteps, rushing over the planks of the boardwalk, echoed through the night, cutting off whatever it was she was going to ask Pierce. He turned just as Jamison Kittle nearly skidded into the tight quarters.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Pierce said, but his friend was already staring upward at the crossbeam, at his dangling wife. “No!” he screamed, his knees buckling. “No, no, no!” He pounded the floor with his fist. “Not Naomi. Not my Naomi!”
Deputy Tina Rounds stuck her head inside.
“I tried to stop him,” she said, “but—”
“No, oh, God, no!” Jamison wailed, his face twisted as if in pain.
“Jamison, let’s get you out of here,” Pierce said, leaning down, offering his hand. “You don’t want to see her like this.”
“Why?” he asked, his face twisted in revulsion. “Why would he do this?”
“Who?” Pierce demanded, helping his friend to his feet.
“The killer!” Jamison snapped. “The Savannah Slasher. What did Naomi do to him?”
Pierce said, “We don’t know yet whether—”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he cut in. “I mean, look at her! Oh, Jesus, just look at herhand. She’s got a damned rock in it, doesn’t she? Isn’t that the freak’s calling card?”
“Jamison, you know you need to leave.”
But he wasn’t listening. “Cut her down! Damn it, cut her down!” He was still pointing at his wife’s dangling body. “For the love of God!”
Another deputy arrived and crowded into the small space, probably contaminating the scene. Hell, they all were.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the deputy apologized. “We couldn’t stop him.”
“I know.” To his friend, he said more sternly. “Jamison, you have to go. This is a crime scene.”
“But, Naomi!”
“You don’t want to mess this up,” Pierce insisted. “Just go. Now.”
Finally, it appeared he was getting through. Jamison’s gaze moved from the body of his wife to Pierce, then back again to Naomi’s suspended corpse. He swallowed hard, but gave a faint nod. “Okay, okay.” He cleared his throat and visibly straightened. “Right.”
Pierce motioned to the deputies, who helped Jamison out of the sanctuary and listened as the footsteps retreated. “I think I’ve seen enough,” he said to Sol. “You?”
Her lips tightened, and she continued to stare at Naomi. “This isn’t right.”