Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

The first drops of rain started to fall just as I turned onto Catherine of Aragon. Lily had parked the other Suburban under the portico so they could transport the body inside, so I parked right behind her and made a quick dash to the side door.

I let myself in and hung my jacket and bag on one of the hooks in the mudroom, and then walked into the kitchen. It was still early, just after seven thirty, and the funeral home wouldn't open for another couple of hours. Fortunately, there were no funerals on the books for the next couple of days and I could devote my full attention to my job as coroner.

My receptionist, Emmy Lu, wasn't in yet. There was no coffee made and the thermostat hadn't kicked on so the kitchen felt cold and sterile. I made my way to the coffeepot and went through the monotony of measuring grounds and pouring in the water. Jack normally made the coffee in the mornings and left a cup on the bedside table, but with the trial and other things, the coffee had been absent for several days.

The morning was starting to catch up with me, and I stifled a yawn. I'd been dead to the world when the call from dispatch had come in. I looked down and realized I was still in my coveralls, so I stripped out of them while the coffee was brewing and tossed them in the basket in the laundry room. I took off my cap and pulled the band from my stubby ponytail and massaged my scalp. I'd have paid a king's ransom for the luxury of crawling back into bed and shutting out the world for the next few hours.

I'd gotten soft since my days of medical school and rotations in the ER. Lack of sleep had been my normal once upon a time. But the last few years I'd gotten spoiled by a well-made mattress and fresh-ground coffee beans to keep me going.

I caught a reflection of myself in the refrigerator as I got out the creamer and had to stifle back a yelp of surprise. It never failed that the media got some unflattering clip or photograph of me to plaster all over the news, and they probably got some doozies this morning. Thankfully, the dead didn't care what I looked like. And I'd have time to shower and dress in real clothes before I had to buy Martinez lunch.

My phone rang and I looked down at the screen, a smile coming across my face as I saw Doug's picture come up. Doug Carver was the nephew of Jack's best friend, Ben. Ben had been an agent for the FBI up until a few months ago when he'd uncovered deep corruption from within not only the FBI, but all the alphabet agencies.

Apparently the alphabet agencies didn't want to be exposed because Carver and his family became target number one and they were on the run. The last postcard we'd gotten from Carver had been from Moscow, or at least we could assume it was from Carver. It had been a blank postcard with only our names and address on it, and Russia wasn't in the extradition business so Carver and his family could hide in plain sight with new identities.

Carver could take care of himself and his family, and when the time was right Jack and I both knew the crap was going to hit the fan, so to speak. But Carver must have had a good reason for waiting, so all we could do was wait for the next postcard to arrive.

Doug was just like his uncle in a lot of ways. He was off-the-charts genius, and I'd found it a challenge having to deal with someone who had the maturity of a regular teenager with the brain of an adult. Doug had some issues with the law when he'd hacked into some places the federal government frowned upon, so he'd come to live with us with the agreement that he could work for the good guys or go to prison.

The problem was, Doug wasn't really sure who the good guys were since his uncle was on the run from the people who were supposed to be the good guys, so he was walking a very gray area at the moment. I couldn't even say I blamed him all that much. But he was also a sixteen-year-old kid who was getting close to graduating from college, all while wearing an ankle bracelet. Doug had lived a lot of life for a sixteen-year-old.

"You're up early," I said when I answered the phone.

"I've got online class this morning," he said. "Business on the top, underwear on the bottom. No one will ever be the wiser."

"Not unless you stand up," I said dryly.

"Good point," he said. "I'm calling about breakfast."

"There's stuff in the pantry," I said automatically.

"I ate it all," he said. "You guys have been busy the last few days. No cereal. No Pop-Tarts. Nothing. I'm starving. I need brain energy for my class."

He was right. The last time I'd gotten groceries was Friday. Doug was a bottomless pit. I was pretty sure we spent more on groceries for Doug than all of our bills combined.

"Put in an order and have it delivered," I said. "Make sure you get the stuff I put on the list on the fridge and not just Doug food. Use the credit card in the drawer."

"10-4, kemo sabe," he said. "Though I could always charge it to the federal government if you're feeling adventurous."

"I don't really have time to go to jail today," I said. "I've got a case."

"Yeah, I saw it on the news," he said. "They said it's a kid. The park isn't too far from here."

"I'm about to do the autopsy."

"That's my cue to leave," he said.

"Have a good class," I said. "I'll be home at some point."

"Don't worry about me," he said. "Jack gave me a backlog of work to do for the sheriff's office. And then I've got a date with Call of Duty ."

"Interesting," I said. "Maybe you'll meet a girl and get an actual date."

"Hey, the ladies love me. The Wizard never disappoints, on the screen or off."

"Good to know," I said. "Be safe and keep the security system on." And then I disconnected.

The reinforced steel door that led downstairs to the lab gave a whoosh of air as it opened and Lily and Sheldon came through. Both of them looked surprised to see me.

"What happened?" Lily asked. "I thought you were going with Martinez to question the neighbors."

Sheldon pushed his glasses up on his nose and shuffled his way toward the coffeepot, looking at it skeptically. I wasn't known for my coffee-making abilities. But all that mattered to me was the caffeine so I usually made it too strong for most people.

"Change of plans," I told her. "All the neighbors directly across from where the body was found were grouped together in their own little encampment. Plank had already questioned them by the time we made our way over."

"Ahh," Lily said. "I was wondering about all the old people. A guy that looked about a hundred years old jumped out in front of me when I tried to drive past the barricade. I still don't know what he was trying to accomplish."

"Did you know nearly one-third of all people over the age of eighty-five have some form of dementia?"

"No," Lily said. "But that's as good of a reason as any to jump in front of the coroner's van."

"Plank said our geriatric observers were in bed before the murder took place and none of them heard anything unusual either last night or early this morning."

"I saw the extent of damage done to that girl's body," Lily said. "She has a lot of physical trauma. I can't imagine she went out quiet."

"No," I agreed. "I think we'll find a witness. Sometimes people don't realize what they're hearing or seeing and blow it off as unimportant. Martinez decided priority was getting an identity on the girl. This was a violent and personal death. Once we can start digging into her history we can start narrowing down suspects."

"Twenty-three percent of child homicides under the age of thirteen are killed by a family member," Sheldon said, still eyeing the coffee. "I'm going to Lady Jane's to get donuts and a mochaccino. Anyone want anything?"

"Yes," Lily and I both said together.

My stomach rumbled at the thought of fried dough and warm sugar, and I ran into my office and grabbed twenty dollars that I kept in the top drawer of my desk in case of emergencies.

I looked Sheldon up and down and said, "Don't you want to take your coveralls off?"

"No," he said. "I'm not wearing anything underneath. I was in such a hurry when Lily called I forgot my regular clothes. My mom is supposed to bring me my work clothes before the funeral home opens."

My mouth dropped open and I saw Lily's nose scrunch at the thought of Sheldon's doughy body loose inside his work coveralls.

"Besides," he said, "the girl behind the counter thinks it's cool to work with the dead. She might even go out with me if I'm wearing these."

"Just get my coffee black," I said before he could go into too much detail. "You're a lifesaver, Sheldon."

"Did you know that Life Savers candy was invented in 1912 because it lasted better in the summer months than chocolate?"

"I did not know that," Lily said. "Get some of the cinnamon cake donuts. I've got to study this afternoon and I need the extra sugar."

Sheldon didn't bother with his jacket, but pulled his wool cap out of the pocket of his coveralls and pulled it down over his comb-over. He gave a half-hearted wave and headed out the door.

"I've seen that girl at the donut shop," Lily said once he'd left. "She's into some weird stuff. You think Sheldon is going to get mixed up in some voodoo ritual sacrifice?"

"I wish I could say no for certain," I said. "I guess we'll know for sure if bodies start going missing."

I left the coffee brewing in the pot and put the creamer back in the fridge, and then grabbed the bag of samples I'd taken from the crime scene off the counter.

My parents had built the lab in the basement of the funeral home, so I couldn't take credit for the state-of-the-art equipment or the fact that it had security that rivaled Fort Knox. Only the best for Virginia's most-wanted criminals.

I coded us in and the pressurized metal door snicked open. The lights came on automatically when we crossed the threshold and the temperature dropped drastically. I had an elevator that was large enough to carry bodies down to the basement level, but otherwise I took the metal stairs. Our footsteps echoed as we descended into the deep cavern.

Everything in the lab was bright and white and sterile, and the black body bag was a stark contrast to its surroundings. I grabbed my lab coat from the hook and a heavy apron and then I pulled my hair back from my face before collecting the correct forms from my desk.

Most people I met thought that being a coroner must be exciting work, but in reality it was a lot of administrative paperwork combined with the tedious and meticulous examination of the body. It was a game of details, patience, and perseverance. And the reward was a definitive cause of death that would help catch a killer.

Lily had suited up and adjusted the overhead lighting, and she was pulling down the zipper on the body bag.

"Recorder on," I said, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. "Dr. J.J. Graves performing the autopsy of minor Jane Doe on the fifth of April at—" I stopped and looked at the clock on the wall. "Oh-eight hundred hours and nineteen minutes. Assisting is Lily Jacobs.

"Ready to move her?" I asked.

"On your count," Lily said.

I counted down from three and Lily and I lifted the small body from the bag and laid her gently on the metal autopsy table.

"I'll put in a request for dental as soon as we can get molds taken," Lily said.

"Good," I told her. "That might save us some time. Let's go ahead and get her prints and get those sent over digitally so they can run them through the system. We might get lucky there if they took part in the county's next-gen fingerprint program."

I carefully removed the plastic bag over the victim's right hand and Lily took a set of digital fingerprints and sent them to Martinez to input in the State Fingerprint Identification Program.

"Weight of Jane Doe is thirty-two point two kilograms," I said into the recorder. "Height is one hundred and fifty-two centimeters."

"I hate the metric system," Lily said. "Why can't we just say she was seventy pounds and five feet tall? Who decided metric was the way to go?"

"The rest of the world," I said, lips twitching.

I brought the overhead light down some and moved it with me as I looked her over for any other identifying marks like birthmarks or scars, but there was nothing.

"You want x-rays next?" Lily asked.

"Yeah," I said. "And let's use the ultraviolet light on her and see if we can pull any more prints, just so we can narrow it down that we're dealing with one suspect."

It was monotonous and mindless work, something I'd done hundreds of times through the course of my career, but somehow posing the fragile body for the x-rays felt like an intrusion on her peace. She'd suffered greatly and been through more than any human should ever have to endure. I reminded myself that every piece of evidence I found would help put her killer away. It was all I could do.

"Fracture of the distal phalanx on the third and fourth digits of the right hand," I said into the recorder. "Distal radius fracture of the same hand. What does that mean?" I asked Lily.

"Umm," Lily said, looking intently at the x-rays. "Distal radius fractures are usually caused from falling and trying to catch yourself. And distal phalanx fractures are crushing fractures."

"Paint the picture," I encouraged.

"The victim fell backward and tried to catch herself, breaking her wrist, and then the killer stepped on her fingers and crushed them."

"Good," I said, nodding approvingly. "She's got a remodeled fracture on the same right arm. Maybe a couple of years old. No other breaks that I can see."

I took samples of the particulates in her heels and bagged and tagged them, along with the skin beneath her nails.

"Do you think…" Lily began and then swallowed. "Do you think she was sexually assaulted?"

I felt the weight on my chest again. "There's visible signs of blood and semen, which pisses me, but the more DNA we have the better to nail the bastard."

"I just don't understand how someone could do something like that right in the middle of the park. It wasn't even that late."

"Maybe he didn't do it there," I said, trying to run the scenario in my head. Because none of it made sense. "Maybe she escaped from somewhere. Jumped out of a car or something. It would explain why we didn't find her clothes."

"I hope she gouged his eyes out," Lily said.

"He didn't walk away unscathed," I told her. "She's got a good bit of flesh and dried blood under the nails of both hands."

I took blood and urine samples and finished my examination, making notes and drawings in the chart, and then I got the camera and took magnified photos of the ligature marks around her neck under the bright light.

"It's a weird pattern," Lily noted. "The bruising, I mean."

"Not a rope," I said. "There's no fibers embedded in the skin and no abrasions. It was something smooth. A scarf or tie maybe." I tilted her head slightly so I could follow the thin line of bruising up behind her ear to the back of her skull.

"See how it makes an upside-down V at the back of the neck?" I asked. "The killer choked her from behind. And he's significantly taller than she is so when he pulled the ligature it pulled everything upward." I made the motion with my hands to demonstrate to Lily. "And you see the contusions here?" I pointed to the area in the fatty tissue just under the jaw.

"Yes," Lily said, leaning down with the magnifier.

I turned the victim's hands over and there was a thin line across both of them.

"She got her hands up in time to fight against whatever he used to strangle her," she said, surprised. "A wire maybe?"

"A wire would have cut into the flesh with the amount of pressure he was using," I said, placing her hands back on the table, my brow furrowed in thought. "And I'm not sure cloth would leave the kinds of marks and the depth of the bruising she sustained."

"Do you think even with her hands up the strangulation was enough to incapacitate her?" Lily asked. "This could have been done pretty early on. He kidnaps her, strangles her, rapes her, and then somehow she escapes and ends up in the park."

"Very plausible," I said. "She's got vaginal tearing and bruising. Go ahead and run the tox screen on the blood and urine samples and let's see if anything comes back."

There was a simmering anger burning inside of me as I put on a mask and eye protection and reached for my scalpel. I was adult enough to know it was probably an accumulation of a lot of things in my life. But having to perform this autopsy was the icing on the cake.