Deadfall by Patricia H. Rushford Page B

okay, Kevin?” he asked.
    â€œYeah, nothing to worry about. I just need a little air.” He glanced over at Dana. “How have you been?”
    â€œGreat. I just completed a crisis negotiation course last week.
    Should come in handy someday.”
    â€œGood for you.” Kevin studied Dana a moment, then he said, “Listen, I don’t mind you coming into the scene. Just don’t get into hot water with your patrol sergeant if you should be taking other calls.”
    â€œNot to worry, Detective. This is all on my own time. He knows what my career goals are.”
    â€œAll right, then. Come on in. This one is not for the faint of heart, so prepare yourselves.” Kevin led the way into the lumber mill’s main saw room. Once inside the enormous dark room, he gestured toward a large table where Kristen Thorpe was taking photographs. “Looks like we have a transient living in an office in one of the outbuildings. We found a cot, a few toiletries, and some clothing—nothing that helps us ID the guy. The guys from the identification bureau are hoping to lift some prints from the room where the guy was staying, but it’s going to be tough with all this dust floating around.”
    â€œSo we think the victim was the transient?” Dana asked.
    We, Mac thought. Didn’t take her long to feel at home.
    â€œI think so. The victim is dressed in a camouflage shirt and jacket, with wool hunting pants. It’s the same type of clothing we found in the room. He isn’t wearing any shoes or socks, and we found a pair of boots under his bunk that look like his size. This old mill is up for auction, along with all the heavy equipment. An assessor from the auction house was the one who found the body.
    He came by this morning to itemize the mill’s equipment when he made the discovery. I think the victim was living out here for whatever reason, killing wild game to stay alive. There are several deer hides and meat hooks in the back of this main room. I can’t imagine one man eating that much meat, unless he’s lived here for years, so I haven’t quite figured that out yet. With his sleeping bag turned out and his lack of shoes, I think someone paid a visit to our victim last night—probably surprised him.”
    â€œAny clues from the body on cause of death?” Mac asked.
    â€œThere’s no doubt about this one, Mac. Come take a look.”The three stepped carefully over to Kristen, who was still taking photographs of the gruesome scene. The victim had been cut into two pieces, from the tip of his head through his pelvis, with a giant band saw that was designed for cutting heavy timber beams. The saw had dried blood on it, along with what were probably chunks of hair and bone dust. Blood spatter reached all the way to where they were standing.
    â€œHey, Mac. Welcome to the slaughterhouse.” Kristen’s broad smile showed under the large camera. “Looks like a case of split personality, if you ask me.”
    Dana grimaced. “Split personality?” she mouthed to Mac.
    â€œYou’ll get used to her,” Mac said.“Our Dr. Thorpe thinks she’s a stand-up comedian.”
    â€œOh, well in that case . . . breaking up is hard to do.” Dana grinned. “I’m Dana Bennett. I was at the Tyson body dump scene working the crime scene tape.”
    Kristen chuckled. “I remember you, Dana. ‘Breaking up’— that’s a good one.”
    Feeling the need to add his own pun, Mac said, “I’m thinking maybe he was killed because he was two-faced.”
    Kristen and Dana both groaned.
    â€œEnough with the gallows humor, guys. Maybe we all should just do our job.” Kevin cast each of them a withering look. “Dying is rough enough without having you yahoos mocking his corpse.”
    Mac raised his eyebrows at Kristen, who shrugged her shoulders and continued to take photosothing bothered her, but Mac