“They’re crackerjack, five full-fledged accident-reconstruction specialists. Most of our guys were active-duty law enforcement, so they have a lot of experience too. We call it the total station.”
“I see.” Jake had to get it together. As anguished as he felt about Kathleen, it worried him to think of how expert the police could be. He felt his gut wrench, caught between feeling guilty and not wanting to get caught, for Ryan’s sake.
“They go out there with equipment, like surveyor’s equipment with the scope, and they triangulate the scene. They measure everything. They look for skidmarks, any damage, any trace evidence or other physical evidence, like pieces of the headlamp or any part that came off the car.” Officer McMullen kept his eyes on the road, and they looked flinty in the glare from the bright gray sky. “They collect that evidence, log it in, and bag it, and they can run down exactly what car it was, make and model, the whole nine.”
Jake’s phone signaled an incoming text, and he looked down. It was Pam, saying,Oh no, are you okay?
“It’s all up-to-the-minute technology, those guys are something else. They come back and upload all the data into the computer and they can completely rebuild the accident. They can tell you exactly how it happened.”
Jake texted back,I’m fine, don’t worry. Go to the gym if you want to. Don’t wait for me.
“This poor kid was knocked out of her shoes, her sneakers. Most pedestrians who get hit, they get knocked out of their shoes. I bagged her sneaker myself.”
Jake couldn’t hide the revulsion he felt inside and he didn’t try. He was the lowest form of life on the planet.
“A few months ago, I worked a scene, this is kind of gory, but we got body parts, like the skull. We put that in these cans, looks just like a regular paint can, gallon size. That’s for evidence that can decompose. We get all the evidence we can and we comb the area for debris. You never know what’ll pay off.”
Jake’s phone signaled a text. Pam replied,Not going to the gym. Ryan’s sick.
“And that’s only the beginning. We knock on doors, we ask the neighbors what did you see.”
Jake guessed Ryan must have found out that their victim was his classmate. He texted quickly,what’s the matter?
“Plus normally we can usually get good tapes from the cameras on the street, like the red-light cameras and such. They’re usually a real help.”
Jake felt panic tightening his chest. He hadn’t thought that street cameras or red-light cameras could have spotted them the night of the accident, and evidently, Ryan was awake and talking to Pam.
“Unfortunately, we got no red-light cameras on Pike Road. There’s nothing on that street. You know where else we get good evidence, usually?” Officer McMullen glanced in the rearview, waiting for an answer.
“No, where?” Jake asked, lightly. The text alert sounded on his phone, and Pam responded,God only knows. Ttyl.
“The Wawa, like where you were. They have the best cameras around. The resolution is awesome. Any hit-and-run, we check the local Wawas for their cameras. We get lucky about half the time.”
Jake realized he could’ve made a colossal blunder, going to the Wawa.
“You want my opinion, the driver was probably drunk. That’s why people hit and run. To avoid detection because they’re drunk.”
Jake nodded, texting to Pam,hang in, home soon.
“Drunks usually stop for a hoagie or something to eat. They’ve been drinking and they get hungry. Wawa has cameras in the parking lot out front, too, so we can see the cars pull up. We even get a good view of their license plates. It’s unreal how often we luck out.” Officer McMullen snorted. “Anyway, I’ll go back to the scene after I drop you off. The rest of my platoon is still there, and I bet the body will be, too.”
“Really?” Jake blurted out, appalled.
“Yep. I’ve had bodies lie for a while in this county.” Officer McMullen’s upper lip curled with distaste. “You have no idea. I’ve had bodies lie bleeding through the blanket and I had to change the blanket.”
Jake flashed on Kathleen, bloodied in his arms last night.
“Problem is the coroner is in East Chester and he’s not always in his office, because he doesn’t have to be, and he’s the only one who’s allowed to pick up the body. He makes the declaration, then he takes the body to the hospital for the post. Postmortem, that is.” Officer McMullen steered the cruiser onto the road leading to the Chetwynd development. “People think the coroner does the post, but he doesn’t. He’s an elected official, and so’s the deputy coroner. They’re not even doctors. They could even be dentists. That’s why he’s not in the office half the time. Between you and me, it’s political.” Officer McMullen shook his head. “I guarantee the body’s still there.”
Jake’s stomach did a backflip, and another wave of guilt engulfed him. He knew he couldn’t hide it, so he turned his face to the window, where the police officer couldn’t see.
“So anyway, the post gets done at Paoli Hospital by a forensic pathologist, and unlike the coroner, he’s the real deal. He gets the trace evidence off the body, like hair, fiber, any prints, evidence like that. Between what he finds and what we find, we’ll get him.”
Jake spotted his house at the end of the street, not a moment too soon.
“It could be a woman, too. Remember last year, that socialite who hit that kid on a skateboard?” Officer McMullen eyed him in the rearview mirror. “Did you read about that case?”
“Yes, I did.” Jake edged forward, hoping that Ryan was nowhere near a window to see a police car pulling up.
