“Miles.”
Miles turned, still holding his phone.Hayes's expression was grave, and he had the careful bearing of someone about to deliver difficult news.It was absolutely surreal to have the assistant director standing in his house.
“What is it?”
“The medical examiner needs to transport Elena's body to the morgue for the autopsy.I know this is difficult, but it's necessary for the investigation.”
The words hit Miles like a physical blow.He'd known this moment was coming, but hearing it stated so matter-of-factly made it real in a way that nothing else had.Elena was gone, and now they were going to take her away from him forever.
“No,” Miles said quietly.
“Miles, I'm sorry.I know how hard this is.”
“I said no.”Miles's voice rose to a shout.“You're not taking her anywhere.”
“Son, we have to follow protocol.The autopsy will help us understand exactly how the killer delivered the gas, which might give us clues about their methods.”
Miles dropped his phone and pushed past Hayes toward the front door.“I don't care about the fucking investigation.That's Elena out there...”
He burst outside and saw the coroner's van parked in his driveway.Two technicians were situating a gurney inside, a black body bag folded neatly on top.They were coming to take Elena away, to reduce her to little more than evidence in a case file.
And that was the last straw; that was all it took; Miles broke down completely.All the grief and rage he'd been holding back since finding Elena's body came pouring out in raw, desperate sobs.He fell to his knees on the front lawn and cried like he hadn't cried since he was a child.Vic appeared at his side and put her hand on his shoulder, but Miles barely noticed.The case didn't matter anymore.Finding the killer didn't matter.Nothing mattered except the fact that Elena was dead and he would never see her alive again.
Through his tears, Miles watched the technicians close the back doors of the van.Just like that, the most important person in his life would become another victim in a case that seemed to have no end.
Miles stayed on his knees in the grass, crying for Elena and for the life they would never have together.The killer had made this personal in the most devastating way possible, and Miles wasn't sure he had the strength to continue hunting them.
But as the coroner's van slowly pulled away, Miles felt something else growing alongside his grief.It was stark and terrifying, and he honestly had no idea he was capable of feeling something like it.
It was a cold, focused rage that promised death.One way or the other, the fluorine killer and anyone pulling their strings would pay for what they'd done to Elena.
As far as Miles was now concerned, this was war.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
The medical examiner's office felt like a tomb when Miles entered at 7:55 PM.He’d been escorted by two policemen, but they’d left him as soon as they’d entered the office.Miles currently sat alone in a small private room, surrounded by forms and documents that needed his signature.The paperwork was routine bureaucracy designed to process Elena's death through the official channels, but every line he filled out felt like another nail in the coffin of their future together.He knew there would be other forms as well, coming from the Bureau, as he hadtechnicallybeen the first on the scene of a murder investigation.He supposed Hayes might try to get Vic to do some of it, at least, to spare him the emotional turmoil.
The small room had no windows, just beige walls and a small table with two plastic chairs.A box of tissues sat in the center of the table, placed there by someone who understood that this room was where people said goodbye to the most important parts of their lives.Miles had been crying on and off for the past hour as he worked through the stack of papers.About every ten minutes or so, someone would come in to check on him.He knew this was a grief counselor disguised as a basic employee.He knew the behind-the-scenes tricks and though he had always found the subterfuge rather silly, he now appreciated it.
“Relationship to deceased,” Miles read aloud, his voice cracking.He wrote “Fiancée” in the blank space, then stared at the word until his vision blurred with fresh tears.
This was all his fault.Elena was dead because of him, because he'd gotten involved in hunting a killer who operated on a national scale.If there really was someone in charge of these elemental murders across the country, they would know that Miles had helped stop Diana Hartwell in San Francisco.They would know he was now trying to stop the fluorine murders in DC.The killer had researched Elena's life and work, had studied her pharmaceutical research and decided she was “molecularly corrupt.”But they wouldn't have known about her at all if she hadn’t been engaged to the FBI agent hunting them.Miles had painted a target on the woman he loved, and now she was lying on a metal table in the next room.
It did feel like a coincidence, but it felt like ahugeone.Would the mastermind behind it allreallycome after the agents who were chasing down the people doing his bidding?It seemed like at least a possibility, given the killer’s apparently wide reach.
Honestly, for now, Miles wasn’t surewhatto believe.
Miles signed another form and moved to the next one, tears dripping onto the paper.“Personal effects inventory.”He would have to go through Elena's belongings, decide what to keep and what to donate.Her clothes, her books, her research notes, all the small possessions that had made up her daily life.
A soft knock on the door interrupted his spiral of grief and self-blame.He looked up, fully expecting to see the grief counselor again; she’d ask if he needed a water, anyone to talk to, any help with the forms.Instead, Vic entered quietly, her expression carefully neutral as she assessed his emotional state.She looked quite shaken herself.
“How are you holding up?”she asked, settling into the chair across from him.
“It's my fault,” Miles said without looking up from the paperwork.“Elena is dead because of me.”
“Miles, that's not true.”
“Yes, it is.”Miles set down his pen and looked at Vic through angry tears.“If there's someone directing these elemental murders across the country as I believe there is, then they know I helped catch Diana Hartwell in San Francisco.They know I’ve been working the fluorine case here.So, they went after Elena to hurt me.”
