Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Couldn’t agree more,” I say. “It’s my fault. I’ll ask my doctor about some nausea medication.”
“A much sounder idea.” Officer Brillig tips his cap. “Evening.”
He walks slowly back to his car, and Maddox rolls the window up.
I let out a breath as I will my heart to stop pounding. “Fuck, Maddox. I hated every minute of that.”
He wipes a few beads of sweat off his brow. “So did I.”
“I don’t think he was convinced by our story.”
He rubs at the back of his neck. “I don’t think so, either. But he let us off. You okay?”
I swallow. “Just get us to that coroner. And Maddox?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“Go the bloody speed limit the rest of the way.”
7
MADDOX
Fuck. That was close.
That cop definitely didn’t believe the flimsy-ass story we gave him. At least he wasn’t suspicious enough to search our car, so we’re probably fine. He hasn’t followed us since we started driving.
But he has my name and my address. He knows Alissa’s name, too.
If there’s an investigation about May’s disappearance, it won’t be difficult to link the crime to us. We were, after all, driving around aimlessly in the middle of the night with her head in our back seat. With two shovels in the trunk and my hands covered in dirt.
Nothing suspicious about that.
A few minutes of stony silence later, I pull into the parking lot of the coroner’s main offices downtown. Bill is standing outside the front door, sipping coffee out of a travel mug.
I park the car and turn to Alissa. “We’re almost out of the woods, baby. Once Bill has May’s head, he’ll be able to tie all of this to Rouge, and it will be behind us.”
She looks down, her lip quivering. “I hope so.”
I get out of the car and grab the hatbox. Bill flags us over to the entrance.
I wave with my free hand. “Thanks for doing this, Bill.”
“Of course.” He turns to Alissa and extends his hand. “Bill Lassard.”
“Alissa Maravilla.” She shakes his hand weakly.
He looks back at me. “So what was so important that couldn’t wait until morning?”
I tap the lid of the hatbox. “This.” I look over my shoulder. “But let’s go inside.”
Bill leads us into his morgue. It’s a cold, sterile environment with harsh fluorescent lighting that bounces off the stainless-steel surfaces. Rows of metal drawers line the walls, each marked with a small label. In the center of the room, examination tables sit beneath bright overhead lamps with trays of surgical tools neatly arranged nearby.
I place the hatbox on the table nearest to us. “I have to warn you. What I’m about to show you is pretty shocking, Bill.”
He exhales sharply. “You’d be hard-pressed to surprise a coroner. I’ve seen it all.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I open the lid of the hatbox, wrinkling my nose at the putrid smell of decaying flesh as it hits us in a wave.
Bill peers into the hatbox and widens his eyes. “My God. I stand corrected.” He lifts his head, pinching his nose. “Who is she?”
“Her name was May,” Alissa says. “She was a waitress at Aces Underground.”
Bill gasps. “Not Rouge Montrose’s Aces Underground?”
“The very same,” I say.
Bill rubs his temple. “Who do you believe is responsible for this?”
I clear my throat. “We’re pretty sure Rouge herself is behind this.”
Bill takes a step back, his eyes wide as saucers. “How can you be sure?”
“We’re not,” I say. “But we received instructions from someone at the club after Rouge told Alissa that May had been suspended for breaking the club’s rules. Those instructions led us to where her head was buried in this hatbox.”
“We need you to run some tests,” Alissa says. “If we can match her dental records or DNA, we might be able to link this back to Rouge. She was the one who brought her over from her native Vietnam.”
“And if you can find out how she was killed, that might be helpful too,” I add.
Bill shifts his gaze. “I would presume decapitation.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” I roll my eyes. “But is there something else? If we can figure out the nature of her death, we might be able to backtrack from her last known location. Another way to pin this on Rouge or her allies. Is there anything you can tell us from her head alone?”
“And her hands,” Alissa says. “The fingertips are burned off, but her hands are in the box, too.”
“Of course,” Bill says. “It isn’t often, but we do occasionally have to perform autopsies with only a portion of the body of the deceased.” He puts on a pair of latex gloves, removes May’s head from the hatbox, and places it on the exam table. He pulls back her eyelids and looks into her lifeless eyes. “Ah, I thought so.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“Petechial hemorrhages.” He shines a light into May’s eyes and then takes some notes in a pad. “Tiny red spots in her eyes. Often the result of death by strangulation or suffocation.” He places May’s head on its side. “Her throat is intact as well. I may be able to examine it to see if strangulation was indeed the method of choice for whoever did this.” He continues to examine the base of her neck. “The cut is clean. Her head was removed with something sharp. Not a lot of evidence of excessive bleeding, which may imply a perimortem decapitation.”