The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she removed the bright blue flowers.
Her fingers stilled.
The victim’s eye sockets were empty. All that was visible were the bloodied membranes where the eyeballs used to be.
“No, please don’t do this. I won’t be able to see!” Black and blue eyes met Autumn’s, imploring her. “Tell him, please. You need to help me…!”
Autumn’s breaths became labored. Different wasn’t the word she would use. She was blindsided and was going to be sick.
“I’ll be right back, D.” Diego looked up from the camera he held. He nodded slightly, but Autumn saw how he looked at her as if she were going to faint.
She might need to leave the room.
Autumn went into the bathroom and sat down on the toilet seat. She put her head between her knees and breathed through her nose.
“Autumn?” Hererra again.
“Why didn’t you tell me,” she gasped and tried not to let the panic come.
“Maybe if you didn’t rush by me to have your way, I could have told you.” He sighed and squatted in front of her. “Are you gonna to be alright? Chief saw you run in here. I thought I would find you before he did.”
She sat up and ran her hands through her hair. “Give me another minute and I’ll be fine.”
“I told you it wasn’t like our normal cases.”
A dry laugh rushed from her, “We don’t do normal, Hererra. This is par for the course.”
“Yeah, well—”
“Don’t.” She didn’t have time for overprotective bullshit right now. She had to pull herself together and get to work.
“Right, ignore your issues. Got it.” Hererra shook his head and walked to the closed bathroom door. “You’re usual M.O.”
She glared at him as he closed the door behind him. She stood on jelly-filled legs and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were dilated, her face white as a sheet. She ran the water and wet her face. Her hands were no longer shaking, which was a good sign.
Shutting the water off, Autumn wiped her face with a towel hanging behind the door.
Autumn walked back into the room and donned the big astronaut hat.
“You good?” Diego turned away from some officers he was talking to. The concern was still there as he appraised her.
Autumn gave him a tight-lipped smile and thumbs up. “Never better.”
“That’s what I’m talkin’ about. My girl is good under any kind of pressure.”
Autumn didn’t make any kind of remark as she crouched back down to the victim, picked up one of the flowers with a trembling hand, and forced herself to look at the empty eye socket.
“Forget Me Nots.” Hererra stood at her side again.
She stood slowly and stared up at him. “You know flowers?”
He lifted a shoulder, “My sister is into flower meanings and shit. I’ve seen these a couple of times, she has some seed packets.”
She glanced at the victim. “You said this was high profile. Who is she?”
“She was Catarina Casale, a fashion model,” Hererra nodded to the driver’s license laid out on the bedside table. Autumn picked it up and read the identifying information. Black hair, five-feet-six-inches, blue eyes.
At least they knew what color her eyes were.
