“So she was still alive after the initial cut?” Max asked.
Taylor nodded. “The assailant then made a second incision into the abdomen, slicing from the waist up to the terminus of the evisceration at the victim’s third rib. Both the celiac artery and abdominal aorta were cut so the victim bled out quickly.” He looked up. “And of course, her inner organs spilled out.”
“Like you’d gut a deer,” Afton said. “Just like a hunter might.”
“This guy is a hunter,” Max said.
“Well, yes,” Taylor said. “I suppose you could compare it to that. In fact . . .” He hesitated.
“What?” Max said.
“It’s an odd thing that you should even mention hunting,” Taylor said. “Because a couple of stray hairs turned up on her.”
“Animal hairs?” Afton asked.
“Probably. I’m guessing fox or coyote perhaps? They’ve got that look of a canine coat, like guard hairs.”
“But Muriel Pink didn’t own a dog and I doubt she was out running around in the woods,” Max said. “The woman was almost eighty years old and her neighbors said she hardly ever left town. Except for her doll shows.”
“The hairs might have come from one of her dolls,” Afton said. “Remember the reborn doll Susan Darden told us about? It supposedly had fox eyelashes that were hand-inserted.”
“So that could be it,” Max said. “It would make sense anyway.”
They all stood there for a while in the unnatural cold and fluorescent lighting, the sound of heavy-duty fans rumbling above their heads.
Finally Afton said to Dr. Taylor, “Have you ever seen anything like this before? The stab wounds? The dumping of the organs?”
Dr. Taylor slowly took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. It was as if he needed a minute to pull himself together. “Working here, I’ve seen a lot of bad shit,” he said, in words that suddenly seemed out of character to his professional demeanor. “But nothing, nothing, quite like this.”
*
ON the way back to Minneapolis, Afton put in a call to Dr. Sansevere. When she finally got the ME on the line, she asked one simple question.
“Dr. Sansevere,” Afton said. “Can you check to see if there were any stray animal hairs found on that baby you autopsied? The Cannon Falls baby?”
“I can tell you the answer to that right now,” Dr. Sansevere said. “There were. But I just chalked them up to her prolonged exposure in the woods.”
“But the baby’s blanket wasn’t torn or mauled?”
“No,” Dr. Sansevere said. “I found no evidence of that.”
“So how do you account for the animal hair?”
“Probably the surrounding area was just animal habitat.”
“Thank you. Thank you very much.” Afton ended her call and rode in silence for a while.
“What was that all about?” Max asked.
Afton drew a deep breath. “What if it was the same person?”
“What?” Max sounded shocked. “What are you talking about?” He glanced sideways at her.
“What if the sick person who stuck the baby in that log in Cannon Falls was the same person who murdered Muriel Pink?”
“Why would you say that when there’s no real connection?”
“But there is,” Afton said. “Animal hair was found on both of the victims.” Even as Afton said it, it sounded weak to her. No, it sounded preposterous.
“It’s too far fetched,” Max said.
“I hear you.”
Max tilted his head back, pursed his lips, and seemed to be working the notion through his mind. Finally he said, “You’re grasping. You want there to be a connection.”
“Yes, probably.” Go ahead and talk me out of it.
“But it doesn’t make any sense. We’re pretty sure it was the doll lady who went after Muriel Pink. But how on earth would she tie in to the Cannon Falls baby?”
“I have no idea. Unless . . .” Afton stopped herself. “No, you’re right. The whole thing is too preposterous.”
“What were you going to say?” Max asked.
“Well, a baby was found. And another baby has disappeared.”
“Okay,” Max said. “I think I see where you’re going with this. And the whole thing scares the hail holy shit out of me.”
“Me, too.”
“That’d be one hell of a nutty twist.”
“The animal hair thing is what freaks me out,” Afton said.
“All right,” Max said. “Say we brought the animal hairs into the equation. Who would have something to do with animal hair?”
“I don’t know. A hunter maybe?”
“Or a dog trainer?”
“Maybe,” Afton said. “We’ve got samples of both hairs. We could have our lab do a DNA analysis. To see if they’re related.”
“I don’t know. I’m still thinking the hair from Pink came from one of her dolls, while the animal hairs found on the baby are just that, from an animal.”
“But if they are related . . .” Afton didn’t want to drop it.