“It would be nice if you could get us a profile ASAP,” Newman muttered something under his breath, then looked back at her. “Reagan has her report ready for you. She asked specifically for you, Taylor.” He nodded to Hererra. “See if you can find this club, Cat Tails. And find out if they know what Catarina Casale’s proclivities were. Also, talk to the owner about who the woman was last seen with.”
“Yes, sir,” Hererra stood and saluted. Newman slitted his eyes at the detective as he grabbed the phone from a side table.
Autumn stopped at the door and glanced over at the police captain. She listened as he spoke in low, stilted tones into the phone. “It’s been less than twenty-four hours, Scala. Does your uncle think he’s the goddamned president?”
After entering the local examiner’s office, Autumn located Reagan’s office. She knocked on the open door. A reluctant smile tugged at her lips, watching the M.E. eating her favorite food group. Cookie crumbs littered the table as she went over notes. One hand held a Dutch chocolate chip cookie while the other skimmed down a typed page.
Autumn knocked. They were friendly with each other as they had worked together on various cases. A few times, the women went out for drinks. Of course, to share notes about their work. After her short-lived relationship with Hererra, Autumn was careful about what she shared with others.
Reagan looked up as Autumn entered. She waved her over and threw the foil wrapper from the cookies in the small wire trash can.
“Come in!” She licked one of her fingers, then took a tissue and wiped them. “I have the death report ready.”
Autumn walked to the desk and picked up the sheaf of papers with Catarina Casale’s name. She pursed her lips and scanned it. “The unsub killed her first.”
Reagan nodded, “Yes, based on my findings, she was strangled to death before her eyes were removed.” She moved some strands of blonde hair behind her ear. “Keep reading. It gets juicier.”
Autumn flipped through the pages and stopped with a quirked eyebrow. “Enucleation?”
“Yes.” Reagan crossed her arms and leaned back against the sink. Excitement sparkled in the depths of her amber-colored eyes. “It’s a common surgical procedure that removes the entire eyeball from the socket. Normally, a patient has the procedure when major eye trauma occurs, or the patient has a specialized eye disease where the eyeball must be removed.”
“But in this case, there was no trauma to the face or eyes.”
Regan sat against the edge of the table, one of her legs kicked back and forth. “You are correct. However, whoever your suspect is, they know what they’re doing. They have to have some kind of medical knowledge. If they’re not a doctor, then maybe they did some kind of taxidermy.” She beckoned Autumn into the lab. “I want to show you something else.”
They walked to the autopsy table where Catarina Casale’s body lay. Gaping holes stared back at her where the eyes used to be.
Autumn had to steel herself against the sight and looked away for a second. She took a deep breath, inhaled the astringent in the air and stood with her arms against her chest.
“During this particular procedure, the patient is given anesthesia. But in this case, death was the preferred method,” Reagan murmured. “If you look here, the entire eye muscle and scleral shell, including the eyeball, were removed.”
“I’m good where I am.” Autumn watched from where she stood, a foot from the body. She leaned over slightly to look at where the medical examiner used a pair of tweezers to point to where the muscle would have been. “And this happened after she was strangled?”
“Yes, there were no fibers found around the ligature marks and there was something else.” Reagan turned the body on her side and removed the sheet.
Autumn’s eyes widened for a second. Faded bruises covered the woman’s back— obviously, from when Catarina played at the club. But then she saw deeper welts as if someone took…The fire poker.
“She was still breathing when the murderer did this.”
“This is your punishment, lovely. This happens to bad girls when they misbehave.”
Lash!
“You want to run away again, Autumn?”
Lash!
“You want me to do what I did to the others?”
Lash!
“You are responsible for them.”
“Autumn?”
Autumn blinked, took a deep breath, and coughed as the memory faded. A chill shot down her spine. “Yes?” she rasped.
Reagan examined Autumn’s face before laying Catarina back down, putting the sheet over her body. She motioned Autumn to the office and shut the door to her inner sanctum.
