At the morgue, I warned her it wouldn’t be a pleasant sight.
She nodded like she understood, but she didn't understand. There was no way to understand if you hadn’t seen something like this before.
By that time, Brenda had the body on a metal exam table. Brenda was used to the smell. I think she burned out her olfactory senses long ago.
The autopsy room was cold and clinical. A poured epoxy floor that sloped to drains. Stainless steel tables and cabinets. Surgical lighting. The smell of disinfectant and formalin mixed with the aroma of death.
Tracy turned green under the pale fluorescent lights. She took one look at the remains and spun around. "I can't do this,” she said before hurrying out of the lab.
I followed her back into the hallway.
She shook her head. "Nope. Not going back in there. I can’t do this."
"I understand.”
Tracy took a deep breath, the tears spilling over. She tried to hold it all together. After a few moments, she inhaled, sucked it up, and said, "Okay. Let's do this.”
"Are you sure?”
She nodded, and I escorted her back in.
42
Tracy looked just as queasy this time, but she managed to tough it out. She held her nose and surveyed the remains through squinted eyes. She cringed, then held her hand over her face. "Yeah. That’s Riley," she said, pointing to the small heart-shaped tattoo at the girl’s bikini line.
I escorted Tracy back into the hallway. She wiped the tears from her eyes.
“I know that was difficult,” I said. “Thanks for doing that.”
She nodded.
“Richard Pearson denied the affair.”
“Of course he did.”
“He was pretty adamant about it.”
“Wouldn’t you be? Riley was about to upend his entire world. He needed her to go away. It’s obvious he killed her. Especially with everything she knew.”
“What did she know?”
Tracy hesitated. “She told me she knew that he was embezzling funds from his firm. I think that was her fallback if he decided not to step up and take care of the child.”
“That would certainly be a motive for murder.”
JD and I drove her back to her apartment. I told her we’d be in touch. On the way back to the van, I called Zoe and told her the news.
"I told you he killed her,” she said in a vindicated voice.
“Proving it’s going to be a different story. Do you still have the corrupted footage?”
“Yes. I’ve tried re-importing it several times to no avail.”
“Let me take a look at it. I know someone who’s good with that kind of thing.”
“Be my guest.”
JD and I went to her apartment, grabbed the flashcard, and returned to theAvventura. I put it into my laptop and made a copy of the disk image. I sent a copy to Isabella, then we headed to the station and logged the flash card as evidence. The guys in the IT department might be able to figure something out, but if anybody could recover the data, it was Isabella.
