The fingerprint identification of Tanya Clinton's body catapulted things into a whole other atmosphere. Sheriff Lebeaux immediately pulled his phone from his pocket and began to make calls. His first call was to the police station, where he informed his deputies of the identification of their victim and then threatened them with grievous bodily harm if so much as a whisper made it to the media.
His next call was to the Mayor of St. Joseph Parish. Mayor Stewart was a serious, thoughtful man that Cody respected more than any man in his life. The Sheriff knew the Mayor would get in front of the media storm that was certain to occur as a result of Tanya Clinton's murder.
Before long the Mayor contacted the New Mexico Police Chief and informed him of the tentative identification already made. That Chief agreed with Mayor Stewart that he should personally deliver the news to Roderick Clinton himself and promised to contact him when the task had been completed. An hour later the Sabers' press agent called to let them know that Roderick Clinton had just boarded the team's private jet for a flight over to Louisiana for the sad task of identifying his murdered wife.
Despite their best efforts, the story of Tanya Clinton's gruesome death was now front-page news on websites both legitimate and prurient. Someone had shared the disturbing details of the young woman's painful demise. Several sites shared information that had not been released yet. Obviously there was a leak in either the St. Joseph Parish Morgue's staff or Roderick Clinton's inner circle.
It was nearly 5 PM when the superstar linebacker arrived at the morgue accompanied by an entourage of tattooed, stony-faced men. They were, Roderick explained, merely childhood friends showing him support in his hour of grief. Evan's friend at Quantico had sent her some intel about Roderick Clinton and his childhood. It was a reality far removed from the polished image the NFL superstar now enjoyed.
Sheriff Lebeaux returned to the morgue moments after Roderick Clinton and his friends arrived. He'd thought it prudent to go back to the station to reinforce his threat against leaked information so he asked Evan to give him a call when they're NFL star arrived. The Sheriff felt it important to witness for himself Clinton's initial reaction to the jarring sight of his wife's battered and bruised corpse. It was early in the investigation and no one was being ruled out as Tanya Clinton's killer.
Despite the investigation of the murdered woman no longer being headed by him, courtesy for fellow law enforcement (and a desire for justice) drove Cody's desire to observe the identification process. The New Mexico police had already voiced an informal - and unofficial - request with the Mayor to become the primaries on the case. They genuinely welcomed Sheriff Lebeaux's input but the original crime, they felt, had taken place in their backyard.
Evan nodded to the Sheriff as he moved into a position that would grant him the best view of Roderick Clinton. She waited for the tip of his head that signified his readiness and then instructed by intercom that Cody's deputy should send the Clinton party in.
Eight watchful, muscled men poured silently into the room. They formed a protective semi-circle about Roderick Clinton. It was evident from the ease in which they did that the act was an oft-practiced one. Evan observed with interest that each of the men, including Roderick Clinton, possessed a teardrop tattoo on his neck. Clinton's had been modified with additional tattoo artistry, but Evan's keen eyes caught it nonetheless.
Evan approached the gurney holding Tanya Clinton's corpse. The wife of the NFL's most familiar player of late lay still and cold in the middle of the morgue, a pristine white sheet was drawn over her face. Evan glanced at Roderick Clinton for an acknowledgement of his readiness, but all she got was an impatient tightening of his lips.
She drew back the sheet from Tanya's face The morgue's bright lights, which should have highlighted all the trauma the young woman suffered, could not dim Tanya Clinton's natural beauty. Evan could imagine her as she had been alive, dark walnut skin glowing with life, generous mouth curved in a playful smile. It saddened Evan, and she hoped that Tanya's killer would be caught and brought to justice.
"Mr. Clinton, is this the body of your wife, Tanya Clinton, for whom you filed a missing persons report?" the Sheriff asked gruffly.
"Yes."
There was a curious pause as Sheriff Lebeaux awaited further comment or reaction from Roderick Clinton, but none was forthcoming. The man did not look away from the gruesome sight of his murdered wife but instead stood there impassively gazing down on her with all the emotion of an undertaker. After a few moments, the man just to Roderick Clinton's right placed a hand on the linebacker's shoulder and murmured something indecipherable in his ear. Almost as one, the group turned away from Tanya's body and filed out of the room.
"Mr. Clinton," Evan stopped the linebacker before he left the room, "I am sorry for your loss." She retrieved a nearby clipboard. "If I can just get your signature on this verification of identification form, you can be on your way."
Roderick complied with her request. The only sound heard in the morgue was the scratch of his pen across the paper. "Is there anything else?" Roderick handed the clipboard back to Evan.
"No, and again I am sorry for your loss." Evan glanced down at the form on her clipboard. It had been signed with a flourish, as though the linebacker had been granting the autograph request of a fan. Roderick Clinton, #51, SuperBowl XXIV MVP.
"I wonder what Shiva would have thought of them," Sheriff Cody Lebeaux mused aloud. He stared at the departing linebacker and his 'friends'.
Evan knew exactly what her purebred companion would think regarding Roderick Clinton in particular. 'There goes a stone-cold killer.'
