Tessa arrived at the medical examiner’s office twenty minutes later. The morning traffic had already fallen into a somewhat predicable routine, and she was grateful for this one consistency in her life.
After stowing her backpack in her desk, she and Dr. Kincaid moved to the bank of refrigerated shelves to make morning rounds of the pending cases. The first case appeared to be a heart attack, but an autopsy would confirm it. The second, a fall. And the third was the Jane Doe from last night.
Dr. Kincaid pulled out the tray. Lying on the cool table was the body of the young woman. Her body had been shaved of hair, and her face and hands were perfectly covered in tattoos.
“I’ve no doubt she was sedated during the process. Her arms, legs, and muscles have atrophied, suggesting she moved very little in the last month,” Dr. Kincaid said.
There was a familiarity in the woman’s features that still bothered Tessa, but without hair and a clear view of the woman’s face, she couldn’t place her. “Where are her clothes?”
“With the forensic department. They’re testing the blood sample.”
In the stark light, the garish doll-like features looked all the more shocking and gruesome. The classic red cheeks, freckles, and bow lips lost all their charm and innocence in this brash context.
She stared at the eyes still open. “You removed the contacts?”
“I didn’t want them fusing with the eye. But there’s no closing the lids.”
Tessa shifted her right leg, which was aching more than usual today. She chalked it up to too much time on her feet and not enough stretching.
“When will Agents Sharp and Vargas be here?”
“The autopsy is scheduled for ten,” Dr. Kincaid said.
Dr. Kincaid nodded toward her leg. “Your leg bothering you?”
“I’m a little tired.”
“Is it painful?”
“Just stiff.” Even after a dozen years, long days still irritated the bone that had been nearly shattered by the car. “It’ll pass.”
At nine forty-five she moved into the autopsy suite, where she found Jerry setting up the instrument tray Dr. Kincaid would use.
“You’re an early bird,” Jerry said as he placed a sterile pack of instruments on a small worktable.
“It’s the newbie in me. Once I get this place figured out, I’m sure I’ll be cutting it closer.”
He laughed. “When you get this place figured out, would you send me the cheat sheet?”
“I’ll be sure to copy you.”
He nodded toward the bank of cold storage compartments in the other room, where they kept the bodies. “Help me get the next case ready?”
They transferred Jane Doe’s sheet-clad body to the autopsy room.
She raised the sheet and studied the woman’s face. “Have you seen any disfiguration like that here?” she asked.
“I’ve seen some crazy stuff over the years,” Jerry said. “Piercings, body modification, tattoos, but I have never seen anything like that.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Thursday, October 6, 10:00 a.m.
Tessa turned as the doors to the autopsy suite whooshed open to admit Agent Julia Vargas. The agent had pinned up her ink-black hair in a ponytail, which accentuated an angled face and a faint splash of freckles peppering her skin. She wore a black T-shirt and blazer over dark jeans, ankle-high boots, and her badge dangling from a chain around her neck. She cradled a cup of coffee close. “I’m Agent Vargas. The victim with the doll face is mine.”
Her voice sounded rough and heavy with fatigue. Tessa knew she wouldn’t get much rest until the case broke. Cops worked nonstop in the first two to three days of a homicide, knowing there was a golden window to find a killer before the case went cold.
Jerry raised his hand first. “Hey, Julia. This is our newest recruit, Dr. McGowan. Second day on the job.”
“We met last night at the crime scene,” Tessa said.
“I remember,” Vargas said as she sipped the last of her to-go coffee and dumped it in the trash. “It was a bit of a zoo. We had a dozen cops and deputies show up to steal a look. Like herding cats.” She rubbed the back of her neck as she turned to change. “I’ll get gowned up.”
Barely seconds passed before the doors opened again, this time to Dakota. He had showered and was clean-shaven, his shirt crisp, and he moved with quick steps, his heels striking like a man on a mission. Her heart beat faster as he shrugged off his jacket and slipped on a gown.
“Sharp, you look too chipper,” Vargas said.
Ignoring the attempt at camaraderie, he asked, “Did you find any evidence in the park associated with the victim?”
Vargas’s eyebrow went up, and her eyes sparked with challenge. “We combed the perimeter for hours. We found nothing. Not even a tire track.”
“What about security cameras near the park?”
She rolled her shoulders. “My guys pulled video from three gas stations and a convenience store, and they’re waiting for a couple of stores in a strip mall facing the park entrance to open. We’ll have it all researched by the end of today.”
“And AFIS?”
“No hits yet.”
He tied off his gown and grabbed a set of latex gloves. “Maybe there’s something on the body that’ll tell us more.”
“That’s the hope,” Julia said.
Tessa noted that when he talked to Julia, his shoulders weren’t as rigid, and the snap in his voice, though not relaxed, didn’t crack quite as hard. But he’d always been able to get along with his coworkers. The cases they worked bonded them in ways that, during the investigation, crowded out the rest of the world.
She resented her outlier status when Dakota worked a case. She wanted the easy banter she’d once shared with Dakota back again. One way or the other, they had to muscle past the demands of his job, the failures of the past, and move forward as a couple.
Dr. Kincaid entered, and Tessa took her place across from the doctor. The detectives gathered at the foot of the table. Whereas Vargas absently fingered the thin fabric of her gown, Dakota clasped his hands behind his back and stood at attention.
Dr. Kincaid uncovered the victim’s face.
Vargas automatically shifted her gaze to the victim’s eyes, then quickly looked away. “Forensics captured hair samples from her clothes. Seeing as she doesn’t have any, I’m hoping it belongs to whoever she last saw.” She shook her head. “Jesus. I hope to hell she was medicated during the process.”
Dr. Kincaid studied the body. “That I can’t tell you with certainty. I can tell you she has had cosmetic surgery before. I suspect she’s had a nose job, and she has breast implants,” she said as she palpated the taut breast tissue. “If the fingerprints don’t pan out, I can pull the serial number from the implant and run it through the manufacturer.”