17

Look out, world. I couldn’t imagine how she’d be with kids. I headed for the set of double doors, preparing myself for the stench of formaldehyde. I usually gagged when entEricag. Maybe the continuous rush of adrenaline from seeing Joshua was preventing me from doing so this time.

That I couldn’t get the man out of my mind was a telling statement of how much trouble I was truly in. If my boss found out I’d slept with the man, I had a feeling she’d fire me on the spot, whether or not she believed me that I hadn’t known who he was.

I found Victoria with her elbow-length gloves on, her hands wrists deep inside a victim. She was listening to rock music while performing her task, even swaying a little in time to the drumbeat.

I stood watching her for a few seconds as she removed an organ, placing it almost lovingly in a metal pan. I had to turn my head away, the thought of gagging on my bright red pumps not a good picture in my mind. When I finally cleared my throat, she laughed.

“I knew you were there, Selena. I have barf bags on the counter over there if you need one,” Victoria said, still laughing.

“Both you and Bailey are hilarious today. You’ve been inhaling too many chemicals.”

“Well, sadly, if that’s the case, it’s because of the number of murders that have arrived on my doorstep the last three weeks. I haven’t had a single day off.”

“Any idea where the influx is coming from?”

She turned toward me, holding her arms up. There was something about seeing blood slickening her gloved arms that was more troubling than almost anything, including being here in the first place. “I’m no expert like you are, but I’d say we have some increased gang activity.”

“Typical gang members?”

“Not unless the new trend is wearing Armani suits.”

Shit. I’d been right. “Organized crime.”

“Again, I’m no expert but that’s what I think, not that any of the upstanding police officers in this city would listen to what I have to say. I assume you’re here about the Voltairs.”

Given the woman’s tenacious and rather ball-busting attitude, she wasn’t well liked among the ranks. That’s one reason we’d become fast friends, often commiserating about our cases.

I nodded, daring myself to move closer. “Have you learned anything?”

“You mean other than a serrated knife was used to rip out organs?” She gave me a hard look.

“Fantastic.”

“Both victims were tortured prior to their deaths, which sadly likely came as a welcome respite. There were rope burns on the female’s wrists.”

“That likely meant she’d been forced to watch what the killer did to her husband.” I thought about the pictures and cringed. The psychopaths were getting more heinous than ever. Was Joshua capable of doing something so atrocious?

Victoria nodded. “Do you want to see the bodies? I haven’t had time to stitch them up yet all nice and pretty, but you can see the damage up close and personal.” She automatically moved to one of the steel doors where she held the bodies temporarily.

I said nothing as she pulled out two of them, tugging both sheets covEricag the cadavers down mid-chest level. All it took was one look at the two victims to realize how much rage the killer had felt in doing the horrific level of damage. “Fuck.” Could someone so passionate be capable of doing a heinous crime of this nature? “The killer was out of control.”

Get your shit together, Selena. Serial killers attend baby showers, remember?

There went my inner voice again, always nagging. But almost always right. Still, the doubts were creeping up in intensity. Whoever did this wanted the crimes to be front page news.

“Not necessarily. There was preciseness about the kills, almost as if they were staged,” Victoria said.

“Really?”

“Really, and they’re not the first to come in that way recently.” Her eyes were positively twinkling as if she knew she was dropping a little bombshell.

The news did catch me by surprise, and she knew I’d jump all over it. “What do you mean?”

“I thought you’d know all about it. Those pesky officers, keeping the blood and gore to themselves. Two more dead bodies, one that came in last week and the other just days before. Both men. Both cut up in a similar manner. And I think those were staged as well. You might have a serial killer in your midst, but I think someone wants to remove any trace of organized crime.” Victoria studied me as she allowed the information to sink in. “Course I’m just the medical examiner.”

She’d had as many run-ins with the cops as I had. In dropping clues in my lap, she hoped I’d run with them, doing a little detective work on my own. She was right. The news was too good to pass up. And I had a feeling more pertinent than it should be. What the hell was going on?

“I’ll need the names and anything else that is pertinent.” Why did I have the distinct feeling someone was shoving the case against Mr. James under a rug?

“I’ll send that over if and when I get out of here tonight. I think the cause of death is a given, but the female was asphyxiated, and I’d make an educated guess the implement used was same rope that bound her wrists. I need to do some further testing but I’m fairly positive. As far as the man. He bled out. Or his heart gave out first. I’m not entirely certain.”

“Any DNA?”

“None that I could find. The killer was very careful in all four murders. Not a fiber. Not a hair. The victims didn’t have time to scratch their attacker either. All in all, one of the most calculated series of murders I’ve come across in my career, which makes them fascinating.”

I shook my head, a trickle of fear racing through me. “Have you determined the time of death for the Voltairs?”

“I’d say somewhere in the window of ten p.m. to midnight on Saturday.” She finally removed her gloves, snapping them off her wrists then dumping them in a toxic waste bin. “Do you need to examine the bodies any further?”

“Not at this time. I’m certain the detectives handling the case will go over them thoroughly.” I wasn’t certain of anything at this point.

Victoria laughed again, only this time the sound was bitter. “They certainly don’t seem to be in a hurry to do their jobs.”

“What do you mean?”

She slammed the two doors and I jumped. “Meaning I haven’t received a single call bugging me about when I’d finish the autopsy or a visit. Nothing. Hell, I’ve had Mr. Voltair’s family bugging the crap of me all day, but no detectives. What does that say about our law enforcement system in this city?” As usual, she was tossing me scraps of information.

The hard look she gave me wasn’t any different than I’d seen before. We’d had drinks a half dozen times, both commiserating about the system and political front in the city. Even though many of the top positions were held by women, it seemed as if there was an agenda everywhere. Or maybe I was making amountain out of a molehill. Whatever the case, this particular situation smelled of toxic fumes and refuse.

And I didn’t like it one bit that I’d been shoved into the middle of it.

“Yeah, I hear what you’re saying. Whatever report you can send me, I’d appreciate it.” It would seem I’d be spending time tracking down the detectives assigned to the case in the morning.

“Not a problem. Anything else you need right now?”

I thought about her question. “Since a knife was used, is there any way of detecting the angle, maybe even the make of the knife?”

“Absolutely, although I haven’t gone down that trail yet. What I can say about the weapon itself was that it could be a hunting knife. I’ll know more in a few hours or so. What specifically are you looking for? Height of the killer or whether they were attacked while sitting down?”

“Whatever you can determine I need to know. But right now, for my eyes and ears only.” What I was asking was technically against protocol, every rule, and likely the law, but we’d had each other’s backs before.

“Can do. I’ll let you know but not on paper.”

“I appreciate that. Oh, and whatever you can send me about the other two cases, without breaching the rules, of course, would be helpful.”

She grinned. “I can do that.”

I was angry, more so than I thought I could be, but it now included the people placing me in the middle of this possible charade. I had a very bad feeling things were about to get ugly.

And deadly.