Luke fumbled, one hand out, until he found and pulled the string hanging from the lamp on his nightstand. A soft light filled the room, and he stared at Kate.
She could feel the heat in her face, the uncontrollable heaving of her chest.
He worked his way to a sitting position then wrapped his arms around her. “Katie, you’re okay. I’m here.”
With one of her hands, she reached out to pull his arm closer, to get more of his body pressed against hers. She needed to feel his warmth, to know that he was real and the horrible things she’d just seen were old memories, far from the present.
“I think you’re right,” Kate said once she got her breathing under control.
“About what?” Luke asked.
“My nightmares. Who am I kidding? They’re never going to go away. Maybe I should talk to that hypnotherapist.”
Luke inhaled deeply then exhaled slowly, as though processing her words.
“I’ll get the number tomorrow.”
Kate rubbed her hands against one of his arms. “Sorry for waking you up.”
“Don’t apologize. Just get back to sleep.”
Kate shook her head, then turned to look at the alarm clock: 3:47 a.m.
“There’s no point. I know I won’t be able to. I’ll hop in the shower and head to work. I’ve got lots to do. Go back to sleep, Luko. I love you.”
He muttered something, then turned off the light as she headed into their en-suite.
While the warm droplets hammered her back—the massage feature on the shower head was magically powerful—she did her best at flushing away the memories.
Focus on something else. Anything else.
And just like that, Lori’s face came back to replace Bobby’s lifeless body.
She squirmed, annoyed at what her subconscious had provided in response to her demand.
I really need to start meditating. Or find a hobby that involves happy, positive things.
But no matter how hard she tried, the vic’s glazed-over eyes came to mind. The tiny little white spots in her faded irises, her dilated pupils…
The lack of struggle in the house. Her immaculate fingernails and braid. And that blue rubber band. No self-respecting woman would ever use one of those. That was just begging for split ends and damaged hair.
Someone likely drugged her, then strangled her, then dressed her up, did her hair, and laid her on the bed…
Or perhaps the struggle had occurred elsewhere, and the murderer had cleaned her up and brought her into the house… She thought of the house’s lack of garage. Bringing a dead body into that home unnoticed was not really plausible.
She just had to be patient and wait for today’s autopsy. Perhaps unexpected lividity or bruising patterns would reveal something different.
Kate, now wide awake, turned off the water.
She had to solve Lori’s murder, not just to bring her justice, but to make the city safer. And Fuller was going to judge her for it. Her first time being the lead. She had to rally the team and solve the case fast or she’d never earn Fuller’s respect.
Chapter Fourteen
After donning scrubs and face masks, Detectives Murphy and Rosebud walked into the large examination room. Although sterile, the stench was the furthest thing from bleach. It stank like death in the outdated, floor-to-ceiling tiled space.
Kate turned to Rosebud, the part of his face visible around his mask had a greenish hue to it.
“I’ll be over there,” he said pointing to the stainless steel sink along one of the walls.
“Detectives. Right on time,” Dr. Cooper said from behind the full-face plastic mask that hung from his forehead, over his black-framed glasses. On top of his blue scrubs, he wore a white apron. Kate knew from experience that it wouldn’t stay that way very long. It had nothing to do with the examiner’s potential clumsiness; death and slippery organs made for a messy work environment.
“I got ahold of Lori Davis’s health records,” he started, a file in hand. “No problems there. As healthy as they come, based on her medical history. Twenty-two-year-old female, blonde hair, blue eyes.” Dr. Cooper put down the file and, with a pair of scissors, began cutting open the worn-out nightgown. As he reached the part where the victim’s hands had been joined together, he put his scissors down and grabbed an evidence bag. With his gloved hands, he carefully removed the rosary and placed it into the bag, which he offered Kate.
“Thanks,” she said, taking it. “I was wondering if we could try to match the marks on her neck with the knotted beads on the rosary.”
“Give me a chance to finish undressing and cleaning the body, then we’ll do that if you’d like.”
“Fine,” Kate said, swallowing hard and doing her best to keep her stomach steady.
The doc carefully parted the vic’s bloated fingers. Their decomposed state made the discolored skin stick where fingers normally didn’t.
Kate turned away for a few seconds until she was certain her stomach was okay. When she looked at the victim again, the vic’s arms hung loosely on each side of her body. The gown hung open, exposing her discolored, swollen corpse and legs. Her white bra and panties had taken on unrecognizable colors that matched the stench.
“Do you think she was raped?” Kate asked.
“No damage to her underwear,” the doctor said before snapping the sides open with scissors.
“Do you mind helping me lift her up while I remove the clothing and bag it?” Dr. Cooper asked.
“No, thanks!” Rosebud said from a distance.
Kate nodded, well aware that if she helped, they could leave faster. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”
“When I say, just lift her up right here, like so,” he said, showing Kate where she could grab the vic’s ankles. “Wait.”
He cut away each sleeve, then gave Kate the signal. Kate lifted the cold ankles, trying her best to ignore how much the texture and firmness of her limbs reminded her of legs of ham. Rotten ham. Together, they lifted the body and the doctor pulled away the nightgown, underwear, and bra, which he then placed in a paper bag.
Seeing the woman’s body on the stainless steel slab made Kate close her eyes. This wasn’t her first autopsy, and she knew it would most probably not be her last, but the thought didn’t make it any easier for her to watch. Lori Davis’s life had ended so early. Too early.
Kate walked over to Rosebud, who was now rinsing his mouth directly from the tap.
“Gravol not helping today?” she asked.
“I don’t know how you can stand so close to it. Your stomach must be a lot stronger than mine.”
“I’m having a hard time today. This body really reeks.” Kate knew Rosebud wasn’t going to say anything about her not witnessing all of the autopsy. Chainey had the gut of steel amongst their group of detectives. He would have laughed at both Kate and Rosebud hanging out by the sink. Kate was grateful to have been partnered up with Rosebud.
“I don’t see any obvious signs of rape,” the doctor said from behind Kate.
“Is he inspecting her private bits?” Kate asked Rosebud, not daring to look at the corpse. Perhaps it was her upbringing, but she had never been able to witness that particular part of the autopsy. Perhaps she felt staring at a stranger’s genitals, whether dead or alive, was wrong.
Rosebud glanced behind Kate for a second before snapping his neck back to face the sink. “Yeah.”
“No obvious bruising, but it will be easier to see once I rinse her off.”
“Can you take samples from her nails and orifices before you do?” Kate asked.
“Already on it,” the doctor said. “I got a hair sample and nail clippings, and I’m doing swabs right now. I swiped the underside of her nails, but they’re immaculate, as though she’d gotten a manicure an hour prior to her death.”
“Maybe she did. I’ll look into nearby salons to try to pinpoint her time of death,” Kate said as she added more to her notepad.
“I think it was a home
made job,” Rosebud chimed in.
Kate turned to look at him. He was still hunched over the stainless steel sink.
“I saw nail polish, remover, and those thingies that go between the toes in the downstairs bathroom. There were also some cotton pads with nail polish on it.”
“There goes that idea,” Kate said. “Was it red?”
“Bright red like what she’s got on.”
“Did you bag it?”
“The garbage, yes. I didn’t bag the polish, though.”
“I’ll get Chainey on it. We’ll process it for fingerprints.”
The sound of water running was what made Kate return to the corpse.
“Lividity indicates she likely died in the same position she was found in. Now, let’s have a look at that neck,” Dr. Cooper said before leaning in. “Hmm.”
“What’s that ‘hmm’ for?” Kate asked.
He walked around the corpse to inspect the other side of her neck. “I don’t think that rosary alone was the murder weapon.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you have it?” Dr. Cooper asked.
Kate lifted up the bag he’d given her minutes earlier. It hadn’t been sealed yet. The medical examiner took out the rosary and positioned it against the swollen neck of the victim. “See, it’s barely long enough to go around once. So, at most, you’d have two beads in one location because of its circular shape. Also, you’d have at most, what? Fifty or sixty bead imprints since that’s how many this one has? But without doing a thorough count, which I’ll do shortly, along with photographs, I’m guessing there’s close to a hundred of these little bruises against her neck. See this part of the neck here shows at least four beads imprinted very close to each other. It’s hard to tell for sure due to the decomposition, but I’d say the killer used more rosaries. It would have also made the strangulation weapon sturdier.”
The doctor once again returned the rosary to Kate, who tested the strength of the string with her gloved hands. She didn’t exert too much pressure as she did not want to damage the evidence, but she agreed that one rosary alone may not be able to support the tension required to strangle someone.
“But two or three of these would make sense, right? Especially if the victim’s not fighting back.”
“I’d agree with that. Victim weighs… one hundred and twenty-six pounds.” He took out a measuring tape. “And measures five feet, six inches and a half. Now, I’m going to open her chest cavity. Are you guys gonna stick around?”
Kate nodded as she watched Dr. Cooper place a rubber body block underneath the victim’s back, pushing her chest forward and out.
With his scalpel, the doctor proceeded to pierce the discolored skin and make the Y-shaped incision she’d seen too many times already. She did her best to ignore the waft of putrefaction that emanated from the bloated corpse. She turned to look away.
The cracking of the rib cage made Kate call out to her partner, “Rosebud, join me in the hall?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
“We’ll be back shortly, Doc.”
“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
Once out in the relatively unscented corridor, Rosebud removed his mask. “I hate that part of the job.”
“So, this murder weapon. There are more of them out there. Maybe that’s what we should focus on. See if David Dempsey has some at home. Maybe see if he has any prescription drugs that could have been used to make his girlfriend pass out.”
“We’re eliminating the idea that the victim was moved post-mortem?”
“There was no garage at the house, no easy way to unload a body from a car. One of the neighbors would have seen something if anyone had unloaded a large bag, rolled up carpet, or anything that could have hidden a body from sight. And the vic’s lividity settles it. She had to have been killed in her own house.”
“You’re going to seal that bag?” Rosebud asked.
“That and the bag of clothes we’ll take to the lab. And whatever else the doc has for us.”
“Why don’t I take care of those, and you stay here with the doc and fill me in later?”
“Sure, we can do that,” Kate said as they re-entered the examination room.
The doctor was weighing various organs by the look of things. His apron had gained extra colors from various smudges and wiped handprints.
Kate and Rosebud remained silent as the doctor dictated the weight of every organ into his audio recorder. The evidence was sealed and transferred over to Rosebud, who promptly fled the examination room, leaving Kate alone with the medical examiner and the corpse.
“After you rinsed her off, still no sign of rape?” Kate asked, her eyes darting to the floor instead of the victim’s open chest cavity.
“I’d say no to rape.”
“Recent sexual intercourse prior to death?”
“Hard to say, but the swab will confirm or deny the presence of sperm.”
“What else did the body tell you?” Kate asked.
“The white spots and red lines in her eyes indicate asphyxia from strangulation. The manner of death is neither an accident nor a suicide; it’s a homicide for sure. The victim was otherwise healthy. All her organs were as you’d expect for a young, healthy twenty-two-year-old woman. The dilated pupils are not from asphyxia, though. Most probably drugged. I cut open the stomach and didn’t find anything there.”
“How was she drugged, then?”
“Could have been food but eaten more than two to three hours prior to death. Or it could have been a liquid, which would have gone through her system.”
“So, she died more than three hours after eating?”
“Correct. We’ll run a test on her blood, see if there’s any alcohol in there.”
“I’ll add Valium, Ketamine, and Rohypnol to the toxicology testing, along with all of the prescription drugs we found in the vic’s house. See if the killer could have spiked a drink with one of those,” Kate added. “What about the time of death?”
“As much as I’d love to tell you that, I can’t really narrow it down much. I’ll send a sample of the blow flies I took earlier to a forensic entomologist to get a better idea, but ambient temperature could have really sped up or slowed down that timeline.”
“Rough idea?”
He shook his head. “It was quite chilly in that house. With the current state of decomposition, I’d say ten to twenty days.”
Kate exhaled loudly while making notes on her pad. Not only had attending the autopsy made her lose her appetite, she’d also lost hope of finding the killer fast.
Chapter Fifteen
“Mr. and Mrs. Davis,” Detective Rosebud said, “thank you for coming down here.” He noticed Mrs. Davis’s red and swollen eyes. The husband didn’t look as bad as his wife, but there was a certain absence in his stare. “We’ll continue our discussion about Lori—”
“Looooriii,” the mom sobbed, covering her face with one hand while her husband wrapped his arm around her slumped shoulders.
Rosebud cleared his throat then Murphy spoke up. “Mrs. Davis, I’m sorry.” Murphy extended her hand to clasp the woman’s clenched fist. “Let me assure you that we’re on your team here. As I said when I announced the awful, awful news to you last night, we take no pleasure in this. No parent ever wants to hear that news. I’m sorry it happened to you, and our entire department is working really hard to catch the person who did this to Lori.”
Mrs. Davis nodded then inhaled deeply.
Rosebud cleared his throat. “Now, I know this is a difficult time, but I’d like your DNA and fingerprints so that we can eliminate yours when we analyze the evidence. Is that all right with you?”
Both parents nodded in silence.
“Thank you, we’ll collect and process those shortly. Also, do you have access to your daughter’s cellphone bill and your home’s landline statement?”
“Of course,” Mr. Davis said. “We have a family plan on our cellphones. I thought d
etectives had access to those.”
“Eventually we will, with the warrants we’ve already gotten, but it takes a while for companies to provide the information we need. If you don’t mind sharing your latest bills and call history, it would buy us some valuable time.”
“No problem. Anything we can do to help, detectives.”
“Thanks,” Rosebud said before opening the manila folder in front of him. “I want to ask you a few more questions and then show you some photos. Whatever you say, whatever tiny detail you mention could make a big difference and help us catch the killer faster.”
“Are we going to see photos of our baby girl?” Mrs. Davis asked, part dread and part something else shining through her eyes.
“Only if you feel up to it,” Rosebud said. “But first, I want to repeat a question my partner asked last night. I know you were in shock at the time, so I want to make sure we have our facts straight. Yesterday, you stated that you and your daughter were the only people with a key to your house. Is this correct?”
“Yes,” the father said.
“Any relatives in town or neighbors with a key? Or spare keys hidden somewhere near the house?”
“No,” Mr. Davis said. “The neighbors are all renters. New people come in and out all the time. It wouldn’t be safe.”
Rosebud noticed a strange look on the mother’s face.
“Mrs. Davis?”
“Well, it’s not totally accurate,” she said.
“What do you mean?” The father’s tone was more surprised than angry.
“Remember a few years ago when I kept losing my keys?”
Mr. Davis frowned at his wife. “Mm-hmm.”
“Well, I had a spare made.”
“Where is that spare now?” Rosebud asked.
“It’s hidden about an inch or two in the largest flower pot on the front porch.”
“What?” The father’s voice had gone up a notch.
Rosebud rifled through the pile of photos to find one of the front porch. “This one?” he asked, pointing to the largest pot.
“Yes, it’s buried in there, along the part of the rim closest to the door.”
The Last Amen Page 5
