Free Vulnerable (Morgans of Nashville) by Mary Burton

the trail?” Jake asked.
    “About a half mile. Fairly easy hiking.”
    Georgia glanced toward the forensic van, half tempted to jump in. “Is Brad Holcombe here?”
    “Yeah,” Randy said. “He’s about twenty minutes ahead of you.”
    Brad Holcombe worked the Forensic Department with Georgia and had joined the team about five years ago. In his early thirties, he was tall, trim, and sported a mop of blond hair. She considered him one of the best in the field and he was as meticulous as she. “Great.”
    Randy held up the tape and the two ducked under it and headed up the trail. The morning remained crisp, but bright skies suggested the sun would warm the air to another unseasonably warm day. Early into October, it was always a mixed bag with weather more often turning warm as cold. By November, it would stay colder but, for now, bright days like this remained possible.
    She thought back to the last few days’ temperatures, and her mind immediately turned to accelerated decomposition rates. Whatever they were going to find would not be pretty.
    * * *
    Jake recognized the smell of human death the instant they rounded the corner and came upon the collection of cops. The stench, in his mind, was dense, wet, and sickeningly sweet. It always tightened his belly and sent his muscles bracing. Oddly, most of the bodies he dealt with in homicide were fresh. There were lots of nasty things to experience around the murdered victim, but usually not the smell.
    “Damn.”
    Georgia moved past him to Brad. “What do you have?”
    “I’ve only shined a light into the cave, but I can see the body of a dead woman.”
    Jake moved forward and studied the narrow opening. “Brad, can I borrow your light?”
    “Sure.”
    Jake clicked on the light and shined it in the cave. Putrid air wafted out of the opening and smacked his senses. The smell, simply the breakdown of chemicals in the body, told him death had occurred at least twenty-four hours to ninety-six hours ago. He would become accustomed to the smell, but his clothes would reek and his dry cleaner would cuss and charge him double.
    The light bounced off the low-lying rock ceiling down onto the outline of a body. No missing it was a dead woman. By the looks, she’d been young.
    Georgia switched on her own light and crouched close. Her shoulder brushed his and he caught the faint scent of soap clinging to her skin. This would be the last nice smell for hours. “Are you aware of any missing women?”
    He nodded. There was a BOLO—a Be On The Lookout—that had come across his desk late last night. “Missing teenager. Brown hair. Nineteen. She’s not been seen for a few days. Roommate reported her missing. Parents were traveling, but are back in town.”
    Georgia leaned closer to the opening. “She fits the description.”
    Jake rose, handed the light back to Brad and dusted his hands. “Yeah.” He pulled out his phone and pulled up his text messages. “Her name is Elisa Spence. She’s a sophomore in college.” Not every BOLO stuck with him, but when it came to a young person, he never forgot.
    “Looks like it’s time for Brad and me to do our thing.”
    He rubbed the back of his neck, staring at the narrow opening. “I don’t envy your work.”
    She shrugged as if this were a walk in the park. “Are you kidding? I live for this kind of thing.”
    * * *
    With a camera dangling from her neck, Georgia and Brad stood at the entrance of the cave. While she snapped pictures, Brad sketched the scene, marking distances and the general layout. Detail at this stage of the game was critical. Both knew very well that one day they could be sitting in a courtroom justifying every iota to the judge, jury, and attorneys.
    Rick, Georgia’s older brother and Jake’s partner, had also arrived on the scene. Rick had come up through the canine unit and he and his canine, Tracker, had had an impressive record. The two had been on a routine traffic stop when the car’s driver had fired