He studied her for a beat. “I know she worked for you, but you’re the only medical personnel we have anywhere near. We’re flying in a forensic team from Fairbanks again.”
“I understand.” She sounded steadier than she felt. Inside, something fragile rattled deep. She’d deal with her emotions later. Right now, she had a job to do. “Tell me where to walk.”
“Just follow my footsteps.” The trooper tugged his hat lower over his gray hair and started down the embankment. He took a careful crisscross route, boots planting deliberately in patches of firmer ground. May followed, placing her feet exactly where his had been. She avoided loose pebbles and soft mud that might slide. The slope wasn’t steep, but it was deceptive. One wrong shift and the whole bank could give way.
The wind picked up again, pushing her hair back from her face. She tasted cold water in the air. The creek moved steadily below, deceptively peaceful. Dragonflies skimmed the surface, catching light. If she hadn’t known better, it would’ve been beautiful.
They reached a small rocky area, very similar to where Laura Jordan had been found, though this bend in the creek seemed wider. The trees grew closer together here, branches knitting overhead in a loose canopy. Shadows pooled between stones.
Yellow markers dotted the ground. A camera sat on a tripod a few yards back. Trooper Paige stood farther up the bank, speaking quietly into a radio.
May wanted to run away.
The shape near the waterline lay half turned toward the creek, hair tangled against the rocks. One arm rested at an unnatural angle, her fingers pale against wet stone. The current lapped gently at the edge of her sleeve, as if the water hadn’t quite decided whether to claim her.
For a second, everything narrowed. The sound of the wind faded. The eagle’s cry disappeared. There was only the rush of blood in May’s ears and the steady, relentless movement of the creek beside them.
This could not be happening.
But it was.
May caught sight of Ivy’s boot and nearly stopped walking. If she just stopped, she wouldn’t have to see Ivy’s dead body. A wave of grief shot through her. She forced herself to keep following the trooper.
He angled closer to the river, and she followed suit, careful with every step. She didn’t want to disturb any possible evidence, although she didn’t see much at first glance. No obvious drag marks. No scattered belongings. Just the quiet hum of nature pretending nothing had happened.
Then she caught her first full sight of Ivy.
And she did stop.
The trooper turned. “You okay?”
“No,” she answered honestly, though she continued forward anyway.
Ivy lay face up, much like Laura had, her arms out, her eyes open toward the sky. They were a different color in death, a much deeper blue. Purple bruises mottled her neck, and it appeared as if her trachea may have been crushed.
May’s breath hitched. She forced it to slow again in a raw effort to remain professional. Trying not to cry, she crouched and looked closer, focusing on the details. “I can identify the deceased as Ivy Carter.” Just saying the name made May’s eyes prick. “I see petechiae in her eyes,” she said quietly, “and obvious bruising on her neck.”
She gingerly reached for Ivy’s wrist, feeling for a pulse even though she knew she’d find nothing. She didn’t. The skin was already waxy. A fine film covered Ivy’s eyes, dulling the brightness that had always been there.
May swallowed hard and gently lifted one of Ivy’s arms. It resisted. “Full rigor mortis has set in,” she said, setting the arm back exactly as she’d found it. “I can confirm the death, but you’ll need the medical examiner to determine cause. Although it’s not hard to tell.” Her throat thickened on the last words.
Ivy was still fully clothed in the same jeans and sweater she’d been wearing the night before. The sweater was damp at the hem where the water had lapped against it. One boot remained on her left foot. The other was gone, leaving her right foot in a pink sock that looked oddly fragile against the gray rock.
Delicate. That was the word that flashed through May’s mind. Too delicate for this. She forced herself to look away from Ivy’s face and scout the area instead. The trees pressed close. The creek moved steady and indifferent. No obvious signs of a struggle showed nearby.
“We haven’t found the boot.” Jeb also looked around. “We’ll have the forensic team scour the entire radius around her, but nothing so far.”
“Okay.” May stood slowly, her knees protesting. The world tilted for a second before righting itself. She pressed her gloved hands against her thighs, grounding herself. “I can’t believe this.”
“I know,” Jeb said quietly. “Doc, I hate to ask you, but we do need to take your statement now that you’ve gotten the official part out of the way.”
Official part. As if any of this could be reduced to a checklist. She swallowed. “Okay.”
He gestured up the hill. “Let’s go up. You don’t have to come into the office.”
Trooper Paige walked toward them from upstream. “Still haven’t found the boot,” she called out. “Hopefully the forensic team will do better.” She glanced up at the blue sky. “I don’t think we need to move the body until they arrive. The elements seem to be cooperating this time.”
This time.
