“We spent some time going over Art’s weekly routine. I mapped out his usual haunts.”
“Great idea. Any place we didn’t visit last night?”
“A few. There’s also a clinic he went to every Monday for meds,” she said.
“Meds? What kind?”
“Paula didn’t say. The respiratory therapist came in before I could ask if she knew if he had a drug problem or a medical one.”
“Don’t press her. The toxicology report and autopsy can probably clue us in on that,” he said, swiveling around to stare out into the late afternoon sky.
“How? Didn’t that tech, Ramos say there wasn’t any blood?” she asked.
God, he loved how her brain worked. Nothing got past her. Damn if he didn’t find her mind as sexy as her body. Both thoughts he kept well to himself. He didn’t know if she was ready to hear those things from him or if she ever would. The last thing he wanted to do was shatter this tenuous relationship they’d formed. “If anyone can milk blood out of the body, Ramos will. She’s tenacious like that. But she can also run toxicology on tissue and hair samples.”
“Cool. Learn something new every day.” He heard the smile in her voice.
“Any news on Paula?” he asked.
“Her breathing is much better. She’s not wheezing as much when she talks. But Nurse Teri said the doctors want to keep her another night. Which, of course, upset her. She really hates hospitals.”
“Tell her she won’t be alone. Nana already offered to come back, so I’ll have Kirk F bring her over.”
“I told her you’d arranged it already. That seemed to calm her down.”
“Good. I’m meeting with the Medical Examiner in thirty minutes and then I’ll be by the hospital to pick you up. Anything particular you want for dinner?”
There was a pause on her side. “You don’t have to take me to dinner, I can just eat here with Paula. Lunch wasn’t too bad.”
Damn the woman was so stubborn about not going on anything closely resembling a date. “I’m sure it is, but I haven’t had more than half a sub for lunch and by the time I get done with the M.E. I’ll be starving. So you can join me and keep me from eating alone before we head to Paula’s place.”
That got him one of those husky little chuckles. “Okay, you win. Since you’ll be the one starving, you get to choose the place. And why are we going to Paula’s?”
“Because she’s going straight from the hospital to the safehouse tomorrow. I figure she’ll be more comfortable with some of her own stuff around. So, either you and I do it tonight, or I let Kirk F do it in the morning. Something tells me she’d rather you go through her frilly undie drawer than have the kid do it. And something tells me, he’d like that way too much.”
“I thought we were going to visit more of the homeless shelters to ask about Art tonight?” Her voice drifted a little. Probably walking back inside with Stanley.
“We’ll do that after the trip to Paula’s place. It’s supposed to rain and get cooler again tonight, so the shelters will be full up. Might get us someone who knew Art and willing to talk to us if we go late again.”
“We’ll take Stanley with us, too? I don’t think Nana wants to look after him and Paula.”
He smiled. She was growing attached to the little guy. “Yes. He might recognize someone, or they might recognize him and be more willing to talk to us.”
“See you when you get here.”
“In about an hour or so,” he said, then disconnected. Gathering up his laptop and files, he headed for his desk and backpack. He wanted to go over the information again tonight, once he was settled in at Brianna’s place. After he’d left her at the hospital, he’d swung by his own place, showered, changed and packed a duffel. Until this was over, he was staying close to her. Something told him that leaving her alone would be dangerous.
* * *
“This is a weird one, Jeffers,” Medical Examiner, Dr. Wilmer Sarghetti greeted Aaron as he entered the autopsy room. Considering the man had been in the coroner’s office for a quarter of a century, that was saying something. “When Ramos told me how little lividity there was in the body and how disinfectant had been used to scrub it clean, I moved your case to the top of my to do list. Mostly out of curiosity. And what I found confirmed what Ramos said. Very little blood left in this body. In fact, so little, we had to extract what blood was left from the liver and bone marrow to do the toxicology screening along with hair and tissue samples.”
“Other than little blood and a clean corpse of a homeless man, what else is weird about this one, Doc?”
Sarghetti stared his direction at the abbreviated title but continued his explanation. “Unlike other deaths by exsanguination, which is usually done by cutting an artery or vein, like in suicides or murder by knife cuts, there was no severing of any vessel. This murder was very methodical, very neat and very precise. And I imagine done over a period of days.”
“You mean he was slowly drained of blood over days?” Aaron stared incredulously at the older man. “How? Why?”
“The how is the easier answer,” Dr. Sarghetti said, moving to the naked body lying on the cold metal table of his autopsy room. He lifted Art’s left arm and pointed to the inner elbow area. “See this puncture wound?”
Aaron leaned in close to see the almost flat oval-shaped spot in the arm then quickly moved back. “Yeah. Looks like what happens to my arm when I’ve had blood taken at the doctor’s office.”
“Right. Due to its size the brachial vein is usually the easiest for med techs and nurses to access for blood or to start IV’s. It is also used for individuals to donate blood at blood banks, since a large bore needle is needed to let the thick blood pass through with little damage to the blood cells themselves.”
“So, you’re telling me, the killer drained his blood out to collect it like they do at the blood donor places?”
Sarghetti peered over the top rim of his glasses at him. “No, what I’m telling you is, your killer slowly drained the man’s blood from him and that led to system wide organ failure and ultimately the death of your victim. Did he collect it? I don’t know.” The doctor walked back to his desk. “Why your murderer chose this method to kill your victim is for you to figure out. I don’t deal in suppositions or theories, just the facts. I’ve sent my report to your email.”
“Thanks, doc,” Aaron said. “Anything else I should know? Anything about the victim besides the manor of his death?”
“I’d say his age was late sixties or early seventies, although life on the streets ages people quickly. You saw his tattoo?”
Aaron nodded. The emblem of the Army Green Beret—crossed arrows and a knife in the center, with the ribbon and words De Oppresso Liber—covered Art’s left chest area. “I knew he’d served in the military, but not which branch, so the tat narrows it down to the Army’s special forces.”
“Well, that’s a pretty old tattoo. Look at it closely.”
Aaron really hated touching dead bodies, even being near them, but leaned in closer to study Art’s tattoo. Numbers were embedded between the hilt of the knife and the ribbon beneath. “Nineteen seventy-one.”
“Right. If we assume he was drafted that year, he’d have been at least eighteen. So that makes our guy about sixty-seven. I doubt he would’ve gotten the tattoo the moment he got drafted, so I’d add a year or two. So, your victim is probably around seventy.”
“Any medical problems? Something he might’ve taken meds for?”
The doctor looked at his computer screen to read from the report he’d filed. “Liver was a little enlarged, probably from drinking too much, but not cirrhotic. The vessels around the heart were full of plaque, so he was probably headed for an myocardial infarction—heart attack—at some point. I’d bet his blood pressure was up, too. Gut had some ulcers in the small intestine and the lining of his stomach, again due to too much alcohol consumption. Surprisingly his kidneys and brain looked to be in good shape.”
“So, nothing that could’v
e required him to get meds on a regular basis?”
Sarghetti leaned back against his desk and folded his arms over his chest. “If he managed to go see a doctor, they might’ve put him on a beta blocker or diuretic. We don’t normally look for those post-mortem, just anything that might show overdose or a causative agent, like opioids or poisons.”
“Do you think any were used on Art? Maybe too subdue him, incapacitate him in order to do the blood draining?”
“You saw the two symmetrical burns on his neck?”
Aaron nodded. Ramos had pointed that out last night.
“I’d guess he was tased. Probably how he was incapacitated. Then he was held down by some mechanical means.” Once more the doctor strode over to the table. “See theses marks on his wrists, heels and upper arms and thighs? Some sort of thick band was used to keep your victim strapped down at some point. As to drugs being used? Depending on what it was, our tox screen should tell us.”
“Any idea when that will be back?” Aaron asked hopefully. The more information he had and the sooner he had it, he might be able to find his killer.
“Usually it would take a few days, but again, this is a unique case and my curiosity had me putting a rush on it.”
“Thanks, Doc. I appreciate it,” Aaron said, shaking hands with him then heading for the sliding glass doors to the lab. He paused and turned back. “Doc, you haven’t gotten anything similar to this pass through here, have you?”
“Lately? No.”
“How about ever?”
Sarghetti blinked then raised both brows. “I’d have to check the records. I personally never worked a case like this in the past twenty-five years, but there have been other coroners in and out of the office.”
Aaron fixed him with a questioning look. “Think you could do a little research for me? Just to be sure we’re not missing anything?”
“It will take some time, but with the computer data base updated a few years back, I think I could.”
“Appreciate it.”
“I can’t promise anything will come of it. Like I said, this was a weird one.”
Aaron nodded. “I understand. Just let me know if you do or don’t find anything similar.”
14
I like this place,” Brianna said, glancing around.
Aaron cocked his head slightly to the side like he was studying a strange, never-seen-before bird. “You’ve lived in Cleveland nearly all your life and you’ve never been to a Burgers 2 Beer before? There’s four or five them in the greater Cleveland area.”
She gave a little shrug and studied the menu in front of her. “I haven’t been out much in the past three years. In fact, lunch with you has been the only time I eat out. Before that…” She paused, her cheeks filling with humiliating heat at admitting to the embarrassing way she used to live. “Well, let’s just say, the men I dated rarely let me choose where we went. They liked high-end things. Homes, cars.” Again, she paused, lifted her eyes to meet his grey-green ones. “Women. And of course, food. They liked their privileged lives and they liked flaunting it.”
“You should’ve said something. We could’ve gone elsewhere,” he said, his jaw tightening just a touch.
Dammit, she’d insulted him without meaning to. He thought she was complaining it wasn’t expensive enough for her. Reaching across the table, she touched his hand briefly, surprised at the warmth of his skin. “No, I like this very much. It’s comfortable. And besides, it has something on the menu I really like.”
His expression softened and he lifted the corners of his mouth, “Burgers or beer?”
“Nope,” she said with a little grin. “A Reuben.”
“Oh, a corned beef and cabbage kind of girl, huh?”
Before she could answer, the waitress came to take their orders. Brianna got her favorite with a side of kale and snap pea slaw, while Aaron got a burger smothered in cheese and mushrooms, fries on the side. He got a standard stout beer, while she chose something with chocolate in it.
“So why do you love Ruebens so much?” he asked after their drinks arrived a few minutes later.
“When I was growing up at the orphanage, they had this great cook, Mary Rozzeli McCarthy. She cooked both Irish and Italian food that was delicious as well as healthy, but her corned beef Ruebens were the best. So, whenever I find a restaurant that makes them, I have to give it a try.” She took a drink of her beer and was surprised at how good the chocolate made the beer taste. “Oh, man that’s good. Want to try it?”
He shook his head. “Nah, I’m good.”
She laughed and the conversation turned to other favorites. He confessed to loving stadium hotdogs with the mustard they served there, while she was more a bratwurst fan. The waitress returned with their meal and Brianna was amazed at how good the food and company was this late in the day. After Aaron picked her up at the hospital, he’d changed the plans for the evening. They’d gone first to Paula’s apartment, picked up the extra dog food she’d gotten for Stanley, and packed a bag of warm, comfortable clothes for Paula, as well as her laptop and some schoolbooks she was using for the accounting and computer classes she was taking at the local community college. Next, they’d driven to a parking lot where Aaron picked up an old sedan.
“That’s your car?”
Aaron laughed as he climbed out. “No. It’s an unmarked undercover car. I’d like to not have your car or my SUV identified on the streets we’re going to go to later, and I won’t mind if someone breaks into this one.”
“Why didn’t we take this car last night?” she asked.
“Last night we were just going to find a friend. Tonight we’re looking for a murderer.”
She’d then followed him to the far west end of Cleveland to an area of upscale apartments and houses, not too far from her own condo, maneuvering the car behind a house that looked like an English cottage she’d seen on the Travel Channel once. Pulling into a drive, he lowered his window at a keypad and punched in a set of numbers to open the garage door.
Curious about what a safehouse looked like, Brianna had investigated all the rooms. The inside was very neat, with an open concept kitchen and living area, a powder room, as well as a master bedroom with attached bathroom and a second bedroom on the first floor. Two more bedrooms and attached baths completed the upstairs. This was where Paula and Stanley were going to stay for a while.
“So, you were an orphan?” Aaron asked as they neared the end of their meal.
Brianna finished the last bite of her sandwich and settled her hands in her lap, wondering how she was going to explain that part of her life to him. She rarely spoke about those years before her mother passed away and she was left at the orphanage by the last of her mother’s boyfriends.
“I’m sorry I asked,” he said, making her look up to see the compassion in his eyes—compassion, not pity. “You don’t have to tell me about it if it upsets you.”
“No, it’s okay. It isn’t the orphanage itself that disturbs me. The nuns were actually quite kind, and I got a sense of security there I’d never had before. And of course, that’s where I met Abby,” she smiled remembering that day.
Abby. Poor frightened-of-her-shadow Abby. The image of a gangly, rail-thin girl sitting on the bench outside Sister Compassionatta’s office with her dark brown hair hanging down to her shoulders and almost covering her face. They’d both been sent to see the principal of the orphan school that fateful afternoon. Abby for crying when one of the boys teased her, Brianna for talking to the boys too much.
“You know it’s silly to cry when the boys tease you,” she’d said in her snootiest voice. “It only makes them tease you more.”
The frightened mouse turned her big green-and-gold-flecked eyes on Brianna. There was no malice in them, only an honest stare. “At least they aren’t nice to my face and talk mean behind my back.”
“Abby was the first person who called me on my behavior.”
“Your behavior?” Aaron sounded surprised. “Don’t tell me
you were a trouble-maker?”
“Not in the way you might think,” she said, her cheeks heating with embarrassment, but she decided it was time she told him about her childhood. “My mother was what you might call a professional girlfriend. Not a prostitute, but she’d have a boyfriend for a while, then she’d move on to another, the newest one always richer than the last. I don’t know exactly when I realized that she used her looks to manipulate men—flirting, teasing, enticing them to provide her with things like money and homes. Using her as an example, I was pretty adept at it by the age of eight.
“Then one weekend, I was staying with a babysitter while she was out on a business trip with her latest boyfriend and there was a car accident. The next day I was at the Sisters of the Sacred Heart Orphanage.”
“What about your dad or grandparents? Wasn’t there any other family to take you in?”
She shook her head. “Mom never told me who my father was. As I got older, I figured she might not have known. And she said her parents died when I was little. They lived in New York and I don’t remember visiting them.”
“I’m so sorry,” Aaron said, laying his hand over hers. Instead of pulling away, she decided she really liked the warmth of it on hers.
“Don’t be,” she said, shaking her head a little. “Like I said, that’s where I met Abby and she changed my life.”
“How?”
“I believe her exact words to me were, Cut the horseshit, Brianna. You’re smarter in math than everyone including Sister Josephina.” She leaned in a little closer, “Sister Josephina had been a math professor at MIT before quitting to become a nun. She was the coolest of all the sisters, and that’s why Abby and I both went to MIT.”
Aaron blinked. “You went to MIT? Really?” Waving his hands and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, he sat back in his chair. “Wait, that was rude of me. I didn’t mean you couldn’t get into MIT. You are very smart, I’ve known it since the moment I met you and you could get into any school you wanted.” He paused and looked at her a little sheepishly. “Can you help me pull my foot out of my mouth?”
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