by Liliana Hart
I parked the Suburban as close to the crime scene tape as I could and turned off the motor. Jack and I got out and he took in the area with cop eyes while I went back to get my equipment.
Jack had done his time in the military after he’d graduated from college and then he’d gone on to be a SWAT cop in DC. He’d resigned after taking three bullets on a mission that had killed one of his closest friends, and then he’d come home to Bloody Mary to recover.
The sheriff’s position had come open when the previous Sheriff had decided to retire abruptly and Jack had stepped into the role. He never talked about what had happened to him in DC, and I never pushed him to talk about it. I knew better than anyone that some personal demons were better left undisturbed.
The air coming in from the water was cold and smelled of brine and other things less pleasant. Jones Pond sat just on the edge of the shoreline, only a thin strip of land separating it from the Potomac River. Three large spotlights had been set up around the perimeter and lit the area well. The shoreline was muddy, so I pulled on my black coveralls and zipped them up to my chin. I slung my bag over my shoulder and ducked under the crime scene tape, Jack following close behind me.
“Doc Graves,” Detective Colburn called out. “Thanks for coming. We’re about done here, so he’s all yours. Morning, Sheriff. You want in on this?”
“I’m on vacation.”
“I’d heard a rumor.” Colburn’s lips twitched once and then went back into a thin line.
Colburn was about ten years older than me and Jack, making him in his early forties, and he had big city homicide experience, which was one of the reasons Jack had hired him. I don’t know why Colburn had left the city for the small town way of life, but I’d noticed Jack had a lot of success recruiting cops that had more experience than a place like this warranted.
Colburn was tall, broad through the shoulders, and lean through the hips. His brown hair was graying at the temples, and he had cop’s eyes of pale blue steel. A few months ago Colburn had been under investigation for the serial murders that had rocked our small community. He’d been having an affair with Amanda Wallace, the wife of one of the city councilmen, and her body had been discovered after she’d snuck away to meet with Colburn at a hotel.
Amanda had also been pregnant at the time of her death, so Colburn’s world had been shaken off its axis in one fell swoop. He’d been cleared of murder, but I wasn’t sure he’d ever get over losing the woman he loved and the child he hadn’t known about.
Colburn mostly stayed to himself, and even if he had heard the gossip around town he probably wouldn’t care much about it. But the people in this area had a long memory, and Colburn was still whispered about as a man who’d stolen another man’s wife, and those same people held him responsible for her death, even though he hadn’t been the one to tighten the noose around her neck. They’d never trust him again, and it had the potential to make things difficult farther down the road.
Colburn fell into step beside me as we made our way down to the body. “The 911 came in about three this morning. A couple of campers decided it would be fun to go skinny dipping in the middle of the night.”
“Idiots,” I said. “That water can’t be more than forty degrees.”
“Yeah, well, they’re both twenty and had worked up their courage with a few beers. The girl sicked it all up as soon as she saw the body. They’re sitting in the back of a squad car wrapped up in blankets. We’ll talk to them again before we cut them loose, but I don’t think there’s much more we’ll get from them.”
The first thing I noticed about the body was his size. He was a big guy. Not overweight, but built more like Jack. A lot of muscles and bulk. He was dressed in a black T-shirt and matching cargo pants and his shoes and socks were missing.
“We found him just like this,” Colburn said. “Face down in the mud. It was a hell of a mess when we turned him to get photos. I wanted you to get a feel for the scene so we put him back once we were through.”
“I appreciate it,” I said, kneeling next to the victim. I pulled gloves out of my bag and put them on and then handed Jack my recorder so I could keep my hands free. I touched my glove to the victim’s skin and felt the give of the tissue.
“He’s developed skin maceration, which tells me he’s been in the water close to forty-eight hours. The skin has come loose and is peeling off in places. We’ll have to be careful transporting him so we don’t leave his outsides in the body bag. It’s easier to know how long he’s been in the water instead of time of death. The water messes with the stages of decomp. Lacerations on both arms and bottom of feet congruent with debris he ran into on his trip down the river. Did you find any ID on him?” I asked Colburn.
“No. No wallet and nothing in his pockets. No money either.”
“Socks and shoes are gone.”
“Yeah. Guy’s settled down for an evening, kicking back and maybe watching some T.V.”
“No rings on his fingers,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else. “But anything like that could have come off in the water. We’ll have a hard time getting fingerprints. It’ll be better to remove the skin from the fingers completely and try to get a solid print that way rather than transferring directly. It’ll be too fragile.”
I worked my way over the exposed skin to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, but it was more than obvious what the cause of death was. I reached the back of the skull and was careful as I parted matted hair.
“Two gunshot wounds to the back of the head. Execution style. The holes are nice and neat.” I retrieved a small ruler from the bag and measured the size of the holes and the distance between them.
Jack looked at the hole measurements and grunted. “Could be a couple of different handguns,” he said. “It could be a .357 Magnum or a 9mm, but you’ll have to send it off to ballistics to know for sure.”
“Those were my thoughts as well,” Colburn said. “And then I saw the front of him and now I’m leaning toward the .357 with hollow points. But like you said, ballistics will be able to tell us more.”
“Let’s turn him over,” I said, more curious than ever about the front of the body.
Colburn already wore gloves, so he took the head and I took the feet and we carefully turned the victim over so he lay on his back.
“Damn. Martinez was right. He doesn’t have a face,” I said. I’d seen a lot of interesting things over the course of my tenure as an ER doctor and now as coroner, but I could honestly say the vacant face in front of me was something new.
The face was nothing more than spare bits of flesh and bone. The nose and mouth were empty holes, and the eye sockets were vacant—but I thought that might have more to do with the fish that had been snacking on the body for the last couple of days rather than the bullets themselves.
“High caliber weapon through the back of the head isn’t going to leave much of anything when it comes out the other side,” Jack said. “It’s like dropping a pumpkin off the top of a building. I can see why you’re thinking the .357 hollow points. Two shots to the back of the head will make anyone unrecognizable to their own mother.”
Colburn grunted in agreement. “I’ve got Officer Chen looking for mob related crimes in the tri-state area because of the method of killing. A hit like this seems cold and calculated. No identification and he’s dressed comfortably, so there’s a possibility he was pulled from his house. Maybe something will click in the system.”
“Who’s Officer Chen?” I asked, not recognizing the name.
“She’s only been on about a week,” Jack said. “Good cop. She’s the one talking to the kids who found the body.”
I followed Jack’s gaze toward the squad car and focused on the petite woman talking to the shaking kids. Her hair was glossy black and pulled back into a ponytail and her profile showed even features. She looked like a teenager instead of a cop.
“Don’t let her fool you,” Jack said, reading my mind. “Chen’s got multiple black belts and put
Martinez on his ass the first day on the job.”
I snorted out a laugh at the mental picture. “I guess she wasn’t impressed by the Martinez charm.”
Jack smiled. “He’s been keeping his distance ever since. Martinez doesn’t meet a lot of women who don’t fall all over themselves to get his attention, but Chen looked at him like he was selling vacuum cleaners door to door and turned her back.”
“It’ll do him some good,” Colburn said. “A little humility never hurt anyone.”
“Where did Chen come from?” I asked.
“She worked the streets in Atlanta. Mostly inner city. It was her home turf and she was comfortable there.”
“King George County is a long way from inner city Atlanta. How’s she liking the slow life?”
I felt Jack’s shrug beside me. “She was one of the responding officers on the Greenwood Elementary shooting.”
“Jesus,” I whispered. “I can’t imagine.”
The Greenwood Elementary Shooting had been national news for weeks now. Five high schoolers had made a suicide pact and decided along the way they were going to take as many members of their small town that they could with them. They’d started with the elementary school. That’s where it had ended too. Sixty-two children and teachers dead.
“Yeah. Chen did the work and waded through the blood, and then when it was all over she went to her chief and turned in her badge and gun. Chief Walker and I are friends, so he gave me a call and told me she was too good a cop to not work the job at all. That maybe she just needed a change of pace. It didn’t take much to convince her to pick up a badge again. Cop to the bone. Sometimes you just need a little break.”
I ducked my head so Jack wouldn’t see my smile. All his cops were cops to the bone, but they all had stories and pasts that haunted them. The sheriff’s office was turning into a kind of rehabilitation center, and I wondered if Jack realized what he was doing. I snuck a glance at him from the corner of my eye and saw he was watching me. Of course he knew what he was doing. Nothing much got past Jack.
I turned my attention back to the body and then looked at Colburn. “I didn’t realize we were in mob territory. We’re a long way from Jersey and Vegas.”
“But we’re a stone’s throw from Washington D.C., and the mob and politics have gone hand in hand since the dawn of time. If the vic’s from that area it could be politically motivated. Or it could be none of the above.”
“I’ll see if I can find any wounds ante mortem. Maybe he put up a fight. But like I said, at this point it’ll be hard to determine what was caused by fighting and what was caused by the river.”
Colburn squatted down next to the body but across from me. “We’ve had a lot of rain the last couple of days. The river is moving more than usual. This guy could be from any state that butts up against the Potomac River. I’ve got Lewis checking missing persons just to make sure. If you think he’s been dead at least forty-eight hours then a report should’ve been filed by now. If we can get an ID on him soon we’ll be able to determine if he’s one of ours. If he’s not we’ll have to give him over to another jurisdiction.”
I looked back at the body and stuck my finger into the mouth cavity. “The bullet fractured teeth. It’ll make it harder to get a dental match. And the condition of the skin after sitting in water all this time is going to make retrieving the fingerprints difficult. I’ll work on the identification and then keep him on ice until we know for sure if he’s ours.”
“Anything wash up with him?” Jack asked.
Colburn looked up and down the shoreline to where the circle from the spotlights ended. “Not that we’ve found so far. When daylight hits we’ll comb as far as we can and see what’s what.”
“All right. Let’s bag him up and get him to the lab. It’ll take a little time to get the prints. It’s delicate work. But I should be able to have them to you in a few hours. Maybe sooner now that I have an assistant.”
I looked over at Jack and grinned. Everyone knew Jack was a hell of a cop and there wasn’t much that bothered him. The autopsies didn’t faze him one bit. But I only had one lab, and when I needed to put on my coroner cap I had to do autopsies in the same place where I prepared bodies for burial, and the smell of embalming fluid was enough to send Jack over the edge every time. It was an acquired smell—one I’d been used to since childhood.
The great thing about Jack was that he was also a perverse creature by nature, and just the fact that I’d thrown down the gauntlet would mean he’d feel obligated to accept my challenge in becoming my assistant for the day. I knew Jack as well as he knew me.
His face was a tad green, but his smile was sharp and a little bit cocky. “At your service, Doctor Graves.”
CHAPTER THREE
Dawn was just peeking over the horizon by the time we drove back into Bloody Mary, Jack behind the wheel this time.
I’d done a lot of thinking over the past half-hour in the car, and I knew I was the one who needed to make the change. These were my hang ups. And Jack was right, it was my fear holding us back.
I’d watched a man I’d been intimate with die in front of me. I hadn’t loved him—not the way I’d wanted to—but there’d still been something there. Something inside of me had broken that day, but I knew it would be nothing in comparison if anything ever happened to Jack. I wouldn’t just be broken. I’d be shattered.
The paths we’d chosen kept death in the forefront of our lives—a constant reminder that the time we had on earth was finite—and that the human body was fragile. I could either live with that fear and that reminder swallowing me whole on a daily basis, or I could live the life I’d been given a second chance at with Jack at my side.
“If we got married,” I said softly, my gaze turned toward the window so the buildings went by in a blur. “I think I’d want to take your name. If you don’t mind.” My face was hot with embarrassment and I wondered why I’d even brought it up. Hadn’t even known I’d been thinking about it somewhere in my subconscious.
“Oh, yeah?” Jack answered casually, but I knew I had his full attention.
“It’s just that I was thinking the name Graves is not really mine to begin with. They weren’t my parents. We don’t—”
My throat was dry and I would’ve given anything for a glass of water. My voice would never be the same after my incident. The doctors had told me that. And they’d said there would be some days worse than others, when the words wouldn’t come at all. I cleared my throat and tried again.
“We don’t share blood. So it’s not like I’m really holding onto anything of value.”
He reached across and took my hand, squeezing it lightly. “You know I’d be honored for you to take my name. But I want you to do it because it’s what you really want. Not because it’s what you think you should do. And not as a shield to hide who you are. You’re not of their blood, and I’m damned happy about that if you want to know the truth. But you’ve made your name what it is, Jaye. Not them. They had nothing to do with it. Just remember that when you’re signing on the dotted line.”
“My first name is stupid,” I blurted out. I figured if I was going to embarrass myself I should go ahead and get it all out of the way. “I just wanted you to know that because you’ll probably see it on an official document. If we get married, I mean.”
“I’m glad that you can talk about getting married to me now without looking like you’re going to throw up. We’re making progress. And I’m assuming all this talk of marriage means that you’re in agreement to doing it sooner rather than later?”
I chewed at my bottom lip and realized how stiff I was when my shoulders started to hurt. I took a deep breath and relaxed. I loved Jack. I knew that would never change. It was time for me to make a decision and commit instead of worrying about what might happen. And it was time I stopped letting the actions of my parents dictate the rest of my life. I’d tell Jack about my father, we’d deal with the body and the papers, and then we’d get married. As long as h
e was in my life I could deal with anything else.
“Yeah.” I finally turned in my seat until I was facing him. We came to a stoplight and he looked at me—his eyes filled with a little bit of laughter and a lifetime of love. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
His sensual lips curved upward and I felt the slow burn of arousal roll through my body. I wondered if it would ever get old—looking at the sheer maleness of him and feeling my bones turn liquid and my heart flip in my chest.
“And just so there are no surprises,” he said. “I’ve known your real name since we were in fifth grade. I’ve been holding back the information for a potential blackmail opportunity.”
My mouth dropped open in surprise and I felt the flush of embarrassment creep up my neck and cheeks. “All this time and you never said anything?”
“I’ve thought about it many times over the years. I came really close to using it once or twice, but I could never get it to come out. The name doesn’t fit you.”
I sunk down in the seat a bit and crossed my arms over my chest. “Well thank God for that. What kind of respectable doctor is named Jericho? And what the hell were my parents thinking? It’s like they stole me just so they could make my life miserable. What kind of people do that?”
“The shitty kind, apparently. Don’t worry, love. Your secret is safe with me.”
***
Graves Funeral Home sat right on the corner of Anne Boleyn and Catherine of Aragon, and it took up two full lots. It was a three-story Colonial with dark red brick and white columns that flanked the front entryway. Two massive elm trees stood in front of the house, the leaves new with spring and bright green. No grass grew beneath the trees, and the roots were gnarled and grew out of the ground, cracking the sidewalk.
Jack backed the Suburban up under the portico where we loaded and unloaded bodies. It didn’t take long to get the victim moved onto a stretcher and up the ramp that led into the large kitchen. This was the private area of the funeral home where guests weren’t allowed. The big stainless steel door that led to my lab was just off the kitchen, and I keyed in the code and waited until the locks released.
