Goosebumps covered Riley’s arms—and the rest of her—as they stepped into Maggie’s private exam area. The space was kept just above sixty which, to some, may not seem cool, but Riley always found herself shivering when she was here.
Maybe it’s not the room that’s giving you goosebumps, but the knowledge of what happens here.
Ignoring the morbid thought, she and Eric followed Maggie through a glassed-in section with a desk and a couple of file cabinets. The set of automatic doors leading into the actual autopsy area slid open, allowing them entry.
The space was quite large, and though the temperature was the same, it somehow felt colder.
Directly to their left was a wall-mounted counter, cabinets above and below, and two chairs. Waist-high cabinets ran the entire length along the wall to their right, their stainless-steel countertop and sink allowing for a more sterile, easily cleaned workspace.
Over to the side was a metal scale that always reminded Riley of the ones in the produce section of the grocery store. Only this one was used for things far more gruesome than fruit or vegetables.
Speaking of gruesome...
Four, stainless-steel tables lined the center of the room. Each with its own, sheet-covered body.
Kennedy Davis had been placed on the end, closest to where they stood.
Stepping toward the slain girl, Riley rubbed the tops of her chilled arms even knowing the friction wouldn’t help. It was obvious Maggie had already cleaned her, and without the dirt and grime in her hair and on her face, Kennedy appeared even younger than before.
Unlike the other bodies present, the sheet that had been placed over her body had only been pulled up to just under the chin, rather than covering the entire face.
The young girl’s eyes were closed, and Riley noticed a peacefulness about her. Almost as if she were resting comfortably for the first time in her shortened life.
I’m sorry this happened to you.
“Okay, Mags.” Eric’s deep voice cut through her thoughts. “You’ve got us down here. Wanna tell us what the big emergency is?”
With an odd, unreadable expression, Maggie’s troubled gaze bounced from Riley’s, to Eric’s, and back.
“Let’s start with this.” With the same red dress and heels from earlier hiding beneath her personalized white coat, Maggie put on a pair of disposable gloves before walking over to where Kennedy lay.
Reaching for the edge of the white sheet, she pulled it down to just below the girl’s delicately protruding collar bones, revealing a set of horrifying bruises and markings covering Kennedy’s neck.
“Son of a bitch.” Eric stepped closer. “Are those rope marks?”
The question was rhetorical because the answer was more than clear. Even from where she stood, Riley could make out the rope’s pattern in the bruises left on the girl’s skin.
“Daniel’s running the images through our system now to try to determine the exact type, size, and possible brand, but yes,” Maggie answered with professional ease. “I found petechial hemorrhaging in both eyes consistent with this type of trauma. I’ll still need to complete the full autopsy before I announce it officially, but with the hemorrhaging and the markings on her neck, I’d say it’s safe to rule the cause of death as asphyxiation due to strangulation.”
Riley clenched her back teeth together. “The bastard cuffed her so she couldn’t defend herself while he choked the life from her.”
“No doubt, this young girl died a horrific death.” Maggie stared back at them both. “Just like the three women behind me.”
Wait. What?
Looking past Maggie, Riley took in the other covered bodies. Her stomach revolting from the knowledge that each of these women had fallen victim to the same monster.
Then it hit her.
“Those other victims...” She brought her gaze back to Maggie. “They’re the ones found by the Trinity River. The ones from the news?”
“Yes.”
“Was Kennedy sexually assaulted, too?” Because the news had reported the Trinity victims had been.
“I still need to look more closely, but upon my initial exam, I did see bruising and other trauma to the external pelvic region indicative of forceful penetration.”
Son of a bitch.
