The man did.
“The eyes are mismatched. Some aren’t, but a few are. Does that mean something?” he asked. “And some are drying up.”
Chris handled the last part.
“Eyes need to be in a moist environment, thus tears. If they are out of a liquid for too long, they dehydrate. You can always put them back in liquid to make them plump back up again. Like a raisin to a grape,” he offered.
Well, that answered a question that no one in their right mind would be asking.
She glanced over at her profiler. Someone was going to be up to his eyeballs in the crazy for this one.
“EJ?”
Ethan had been taking in the whole scene.
“Yeah, it does mean something. It means he couldn’t decide who to display. This person, and I say‘he’, simply because it’s easy to talk about if I don’t have to keep prefacing it, took the victims’ eyes, and those two‘victims’, who are displayed in that prominent place, were special to him. He’s displaying—possibly as the newest two.”
Chris took two of the eyes out of one skull, using the ones that were identical in color, shape, and size. Eyes always matched. Unless someone was sick, orb size was identical.
“I have to sacrifice one of these eyes,” he said. “BEN! Tray and kit!”
When the man came back in, he was holding both.
“What do you mean‘sacrifice’?” Tora asked, moving closer out of curiosity.
All of this was fascinating.
She didn’t understand why all the Feds seemed annoyed to be working a case like this. Honestly, this was the coolest thing that had ever happened to her, and Mac.
Before answering, Chris placed one eye in an evidence bag, and one on the tray. Then, and only then, he picked up a scalpel.
“I’m going to dissect it.”
Yeah, hell, no.
Elizabeth was squeamish with eyes.
There was no way she was watching that go down. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him do that, but it wasn’t going to be a common occurrence.
A spleen?
Okay.
A brain?
Sure.
An eyeball?
Hell to the absofuckinglutely not.
“I’m going to focus on Tony. Do your worst, Doc,” she said, refusing to see whatever was going to go down. There was no doubt she’d get a play-by-play when someone told her the end result.
Know who wanted to see what kind of cuckoo was going down?
The two detectives.
They were all over Chris as he played poke the eyeball with the sharp scalpel.
