“Not yet, but I’m fast reaching the breaking point. I’ll need some rest before I tackle our latest guest.”
I grabbed a nearby chair, rolling it closer to Dr. Stowe before joining her. My phone buzzed, the tone indicating I had a text from Boone. Quickly scrolling the message, my lips twisted in a deep frown.
“Something wrong?” Dr. Stowe thoughtfully asked.
“I hope not.” Boone was definitelyhandlingme. “Boone’s getting ready to head out on a job.” Used to be, that wouldn’t have been a problem. I could tell from Dr. Stowe’s scrunched eyes and twisted lips that she wasn’t sure why it was an issue now.
Pocketing my phone, I played down my reaction. “It’s late, and I’m not certain how much sleep Boone got last night. I just don’t like the idea of him out on the road if he’s tired. This job is at least two hours away.”
“That’s understandable.” Dr. Stowe sagely nodded. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
Past experience told a different story where my fiancé was concerned. I mollified myself by the knowledge that Agent Frost and Leon were with him.
As difficult as it was, I refrained from immediately calling Boone. He hadn’t gone alone, and I needed to focus on what I could control, not what I couldn’t. “Do you want to go through the other remains before you take off? We can do it tomorrow if you’d like.”
“I’ll give you the rundown before I leave. It shouldn’t take long.” Dr. Stowe reached for a nearby stack of folders, digging through them and pulling two out. “But if you don’t mind, let’s do it from our seated positions.”
“Sounds good to me. What have you got?”
Dr. Stowe let loose another sigh while tilting her hand back and forth. “A little of this and a little of that.” She gave a wan smile. “Unlike our female victims, I suspicion our males were all murdered in different ways.” Dr. Stowe winced. “None of them peaceful. John Doe number four’s entire cervical area is crushed. I’m not just talking about a few broken bones. When I say crushed, I truly mean that. There’s not a lot of intact bone left in the area. Given the state of the bones, I’m surprised we managed to get as many fragments as we did. My guess is that the crime scene techs will find more bits when they finish sifting through his gravesite.”
I jotted down a few notes as Dr. Stowe rattled off ethnicity, approximate age, and a few other tidbits regarding John Doe number four’s skeletal history.
Setting the file aside, Dr. Stowe grabbed John Doe number five. “Given the nicks on multiple bones, I’d say John Doe number five bled out from multiple laceration sites. I doubt his death was quick.”
My mind turned that information over. “That means he would have been restrained or possibly sedated.”
“That would be my guess, although I don’t know if there were any superficial defensive wounds. I can tell you that his handsand forearms are unmarred, which makes me believe you are correct.”
“Christ.” I ran a hand through my hair. Its short length made a brisling sound, much like my five-o’clock shadow. “What in the hell are we dealing with here? These men weren’t small.”
“Or weak. None of our John Does thus far are geriatric or show signs of chronic illness. This one”—Dr. Stowe tapped John Doe number five’s folder against the stainless-steel table—“probably had the largest handicap.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And what would that be?”
“Left leg is a little shorter than the right. Looks like a fracture that never healed correctly. My guess is it happened when he was younger and…O’Hare? You okay? What—”
My heart pounded, the sound of my rushing blood heavy in my ears. “Say that again.”
Dr. Stowe’s mouth snapped shut before she repeated what she’d just said. I hadn’t heard wrong. What were the chances…?
“Approximate age?”
Dr. Stowe glanced down at her notes. “Mid-twenties to maybe thirty.” She continued with John Doe number five’s stats before I could ask. “Caucasian, five-eleven to maybe six feet, bone structure indicates decent medical care minus the poorly healed fracture site. What’s going on, O’Hare?”
I stood fast enough that my chair hit the desk with an audible clang. “I’m not sure.” I swallowed hard. My stomach felt like I’d swallowed lead. “I need to check on something, but I may have an ID for number five.” And if I was right, then these cases were related. I just didn’t know how in the hell that was possible or, possibly more important, why.
“Get some rest, Doc.” I think Dr. Stowe’s mouth was still parted and hanging open when I walked out the door. All earlier exhaustion dissipated as my mind wandered down seemingly impossible roads.
I thought back to what I knew about the other men our female victims had accused. Only four out of the six gave us a name, but that was enough to test my burgeoning theory.
Impatient, I skipped the elevator and headed for the stairs. I hoped Becks was still in. I slammed through the double doors, drawing confused and worried looks from the remaining officers. My eyes zeroed in on Becks’s desk. The woman I needed wasn’t there, but her purse and laptop were. Becks wouldn’t leave without either.
I started to ask someone if they knew where Becks was when she turned the corner, popping into sight. The welcoming grin Becks immediately sent my way faded fast when she got a good look at my manic expression.
“O’Hare? What is it? Did something happen to Boone? Is he—”
“Boone’s fine.”I hoped. “I need you to look something up for me.” I could have done it, but it would have taken me five times as long. Besides, Becks had already started looking into the names the victims gave. She might already have the answer I was searching for.
