Circle of Blood (Forensic Mystery)
numbers, her mind once again sifting through facts. What if someone reported that Cameryn had chased Mariah through the crowd? What then? What if the snowboarders came forward to say Mariah had been in the car with Hannah, with Cameryn standing nearby? What if the whole sin of omission unraveled? By remaining silent she had become a cog in the wheel of a deception. She knew the name of the girl who lay wrapped in the body bag, knew of her planned destination. If it’s a suicide, it doesn’t matter. Once, Cameryn had thought that she wanted to be a medical examiner in order to give voice to the dead. But not now. For the first time she was more than glad that the departed didn’t speak. Hannah needed protecting, and that’s what Cameryn was doing. This case was a suicide. It had to be.
“Hey, girl, you’re turning a little pale there,” said Ben. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Sorry, I’m just trying to focus. Sixty-one inches,” Cameryn repeated, entering the number on the autopsy worksheet. Ben was scrutinizing her face. To throw him off, she said, “So, Ben, there’s one thing I don’t get.”
“Yeah?” he replied, wheeling the gurney off the scale.
“And what would that be?”
“How could you tell anything about the trajectory of the bullet from the X-ray? I thought soft tissue didn’t show up on film.”
Ben began unzipping the body bag. Huffing, he replied, “See, Cammie, sometimes traces from a bullet’s copper casing fleck off when it travels—that’s what happened here. The X-ray of her brain shows little tiny stars everywhere, which means the bullet bounced all over the inside of her skull. One thing I do know, this girl’s head is a mess. We’re gonna need that brain bucket for sure to tell what happened.”
“Does that mean we start with the head first?”
“Can’t. She’d bleed out into the body cavity if we did that. We always go in an order. Chest first, head last.”
Patrick, Sheriff Jacobs, and Deputy Crowley emerged from Dr. Moore’s office, the latter’s heavy boots clumping as they approached the body. Cameryn could see a pea-sized bit of pizza sauce stuck to the sheriff’s chin. He seemed to be aware of her looking at his mouth, because he wiped it with a crumpled napkin before tossing it into a garbage can. “Evening, Doc,” Jacobs said. “Sorry we took a minute in there. We were trying to get a lead on this girl here through missing persons, but we came up empty. Lots of girls are missing, but none of ’em with that long of hair.”
“So no one’s looking for our Baby Doe,” murmured Moore. He had switched his glasses; this pair magnified his eyes so they appeared to glow, catlike. Patrick and Justin helped Ben move the body, still enfolded in a sheet, from the gurney to the steel autopsy table.
“On the count of three,” said Ben, and Cameryn could hear the men grunt as they pulled Mariah onto the perforated metal.
“I’m all set to unwrap her,” Ben announced. “You all ready?”
As Justin stepped closer to Cameryn, she could feel the warmth of his body radiating toward her, which helped calm the chill. If she were going to come clean, now was the time. Just say it. Tell them what you know. But her lips pressed together on their own, forbidding her to speak.
“Ready,” Patrick replied with a brisk nod.
“All right,” said Moore. “Let’s open her up.”
Chapter Eight
“HERE WE GO,” said Ben, gently unwrapping the sheet.
The cold, heavy feeling spread through Cameryn as she looked down at Mariah’s pale face and the bullet hole in the side of her head. Beneath the bright autopsy lights, she noticed the thickness of Mariah’s lashes and the curve of her cheekbones, the waxiness of her skin, the ragged edges of her hair. It was easier when she’d seen her as the enemy. Lying there, Mariah looked more like a victim.
While Patrick checked the body bag, which came up clean, Justin handed Cameryn a digital camera. Pictures got snapped once again, encompassing the ABFO scale that Ben moved from Mariah’s head to her elbow to her knee to her foot. Each hand had been placed in a paper bag secured with a rubber band.
“This child is young ,” Ben breathed, leaning close and examining her face.
Cameryn said, “Yeah, I thought you knew that.”
“There’s hearing, and there’s seeing,” answered Ben. “I never get used to the kids. Um-mm-mm. I wonder who she is?”
“It’s every parent’s worst nightmare,” added
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