There was something different about Lena today. Whether it was a higher level of tension or anger, he could not say. Her body seemed to vibrate with it, and his main goal was to get her back to the hospital, where she could sit and decompress. He knew Lena would not leave her guard at Julia Matthews's bedside. The hospital was the only place to trust her to stay. There was, of course, the added bonus of knowing that if Lena did finally have some sort of nervous breakdown, she was in the right place. For now, he needed to use her. He needed her to be his eyes and ears for what happened last night.

He said, "Tell me what Julia looked like."

Lena tapped the horn, shooing a squirrel out of the road. "Well, she looked normal." Lena paused. "I mean, I thought it was an OD or something from the way she looked. I never would've pegged her for a rape."

"What convinced you otherwise?"

Lena's jaw worked again. "Dr. Linton, I suppose. She pointed out the holes in her hands and feet. I must've been blind, I don't know. The bleach smell and all of that gave it away."

"All of what?"

"Just, you know, physical signs that something wasn't right." Lena paused again. Her tone took a defensive ring. "She had her mouth taped shut, with her drivers license shoved down her throat. I suppose she looked raped, but I wasn't seeing it. I don't know why. I would've figured it out; I'm not stupid. It's just that she looked so normal, you know? Not like a rape victim."

He was surprised by this last part. "What does a rape victim look like?"

Lena shrugged. "Like my sister, I guess," she mumbled. "Like somebody who can't really take care of themselves."

Jeffrey had been expecting a physical description, some comment on the state of Julia Matthews's body. He said, "I don't follow you."

"Never mind."

"No," Jeffrey said. "Tell me."

Lena seemed to think over how to phrase her words, then, "I guess I can understand with Sibyl, because she was blind." She stopped. "I mean there's this whole thing about women asking for it and all. I don't think Sibyl was like that, but I know rapists. I've talked to them, I've busted them. I know how they think. They don't pick somebody who they think is going to put up a fight."

"You think so?"

Lena shrugged. "I guess you can go into all that feminist bullshit about how women should be able to do whatever they want to do and men should just get used to it, but…" Lena paused again. "It's like this," she said. "If I parked my car in the middle of Atlanta with the windows rolled down and the keys in the ignition, whose fault is it when somebody steals it?"

Jeffrey didn't quite get her logic.

"There are sexual predators out there," Lena continued. "Everybody knows there are some sick people, usually men, who prey on women. And they're not picking the ones who look like they can take care of themselves. They're picking the ones who won't, or can't, put up a fight. They're picking the quiet ones like Julia Matthews. Or the handicapped ones." Lena added, "Like my sister."

Jeffrey stared at her, not sure he bought her logic. Lena surprised him sometimes, but what she had just said blew him out of the water. He would expect this land of talk from someone like Matt Hogan, but never from a woman. Not even Lena.

He leaned his head against the headrest, quiet for a few beats. After a while, he asked, "Run down the case for me. Julia Matthews. Give me the physicals."

Lena took her time answering. "Her front teeth were knocked out. Her ankles had been bound. He pubic hair had been shaved off." Lena paused. "Then, you know, he'd cleaned her out on the inside."

"Bleach?"

Lena nodded. "Mouth, too."

Jeffrey watched her closely. "What else?"

"There was no bruising on her." Lena indicated her lap. "No defensive wounds or marks on her hands, other than the holes in her palms and the bruises from the straps."

Jeffrey considered this. Julia Matthews had probably been drugged the entire time, though that didn't make sense to him either. Rape was a crime of violence, and most rapists got off more from causing women pain, controlling them, than actually having sex with them.

Jeffrey said, "Tell me what else. What did Julia look like when you found her?"

"She looked like a normal person," Lena answered. "I told you that."

"Naked?"

"Yeah, naked. She was totally naked, and she was laid out like, with her hands straight out. Her feet were crossed at the ankles. Right across the hood of the car."

"Do you think she was placed like that for a reason?"

Lena answered, "I dunno. Everybody knows Dr. Linton. Everybody knows what car she drives. It's the only one in town."

Jeffrey felt his stomach lurch. This was not the response he had been fishing for. He'd meant for Lena to specifically address the positioning of the body, to draw the same conclusion he had, which was that the woman was displayed in a crucifixion pose. He had assumed Sara's car was chosen because it had been parked closest to the hospital where someone would see it. The possibility that this action was directed toward Sara was chilling.

Jeffrey dismissed these thoughts for the moment, quizzing Lena. "What do we know about our rapist?"

Lena thought out her answer. "Okay, he's white because rapists tend to rape within their own ethnic group. He's superretentive, because she was scrubbed thoroughly with bleach; bleach means he's up on his forensics, because that's the best way to dispose of physical evidence. He's probably an older man, has his own house, because he obviously nailed her to some floor or wall or whatever, and it's not like you can do that in an apartment building, so he must be established in town. He's probably not married, because he'd have a lot of explaining to do if his wife came home and found a woman nailed down in the basement."

"Why do you say basement?"

Lena shrugged again. "I don't imagine he can keep her out in the open."

"Even if he lives alone?"

"Not unless he's sure nobody's gonna drop by."

"So, he's a loner?"

"Well, maybe. But, then, how did he meet her?"

"Good point," Jeffrey said. "Did Sara send blood for the tox screen?"

"Yeah," Lena said. "She drove it over to Augusta. At least, that's where she said she was going. She said she knew what she was looking for."

Jeffrey pointed to a side street. "There."

Lena made a sharp turn. "Are we gonna cut Gordon loose today?" she asked.

"I don't think so," Jeffrey said. "We can use the drug charge to get his cooperation on who Julia's been hanging around with. From what Jenny Price said, he kept her on a tight leash. He'd be the most likely person to notice who was new in her life."

"Yeah," Lena agreed.

"Up here on the right," he instructed, sitting up. "You want to come in?"

Lena sat behind the wheel. "I'll stay here, thanks."

Jeffrey sat back in his seat. "There's something else you're not telling me, isn't there?"

She took a deep breath, then let it go. "I feel like I let you down."

"About last night?" he asked, then: "Me getting shot?"

She said, "There's things you don't know."

Jeffrey put his hand on the door handle. "Is Frank taking care of it?"

She nodded.

"Could you have stopped what happened?"

She shrugged, her shoulders going up to her ears. "I don't know if I can stop anything anymore."

"Good thing that's not your job," he said. He wanted to say more to her, to take some of her load, but Jeffrey knew from experience that Lena would have to work this out for herself. She had spent the last thirty-three years building a fortress around herself. He wasn't about to break through it in three days.

Instead, he said, "Lena, my number one focus right now is to find out who killed your sister and who raped Julia Matthews. This"-he indicated his leg-"I can deal with when it's over. I think we both know where to start looking. It's not like they're all gonna leave town."