“Could be a jealous rival,” Jeffrey said, though he did not have much conviction in his tone. “Maybe some kid had a crush on Schaffer and took out Andy?” He paused, working through the theory. “Then, when Schaffer didn’t come running to the would-be suitor, he killed her, too?”
“It’s possible,” Sara said, wondering how Tessa’s attack would fit in.
“Schaffer could have seen something,” Jeffrey continued. “Maybe she saw something in the woods, someone there.”
“Or maybe whoever was waiting in the woods thought she saw something.”
“Do you think Tessa will ever remember what happened?”
“Amnesia is common with that sort of head wound. I doubt she’ll ever really remember, and even if she does, it wouldn’t hold up under cross-examination.” Sara did not add that she hoped her sister would never remember. The memory of Tessa’s losing her child was hard enough for Sara. She could not imagine what it would be like for Tessa to live with those events constantly in her mind.
Sara changed the subject back to Ellen Schaffer. “Did anyone see anything?”
“The whole house was out.”
“No one stayed home sick?” Sara asked, thinking that fifty college girls all going to class like they were supposed to was rare enough to make the papers.
“We canvassed the whole house,” Jeffrey told her. “Everybody was accounted for.”
“Which house?”
“Keyes.”
“The smart kids,” Sara said, knowing this would explain why they were all in class. “No one on campus heard the shot?”
“Some people came forward and said they heard what sounded like a car backfiring.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “She used a twelve-gauge pump-action.”
“Good God,” Sara said, knowing what the result of that would look like.
Jeffrey reached around to the backseat and pulled a file out of his briefcase.
“Close range,” he said, taking a color photo out of the file. “The rifle was probably in her mouth. Her head could’ve muffled the sound like a silencer.”
Sara turned on the map light to look at the photograph. It was worse than she had imagined.
“Jesus,” she mumbled. The autopsy was going to be difficult. She glanced at the clock on the radio. They would not reach Grant until eight, depending on traffic. The two autopsies would take at least three to four hours each. Sara said a silent thank-you to Hare for offering to fill in for her tomorrow. The way things looked, she would need the entire day to sleep.
“Sara?” Jeffrey asked.
“Sorry,” she said, taking the file from him. She opened it but her eyes blurred on the words. She concentrated on the pictures instead, flipping past the photo of the arrow drawn into the dirt to find the ones of the crime scene.