The body on the left table surely belonged to Katy Becker. The one on the right looked significantly like her.
“Did you confirm identity?” Nick asked.
“That’s Katy Becker.” She lifted the tag on the body’s toe to show the name. “I compared her to the pictures. The face structure and even eye color is an exact match. I’ll bring in the next of kin for identification. The husband, I presume.”
“Do you have to do a dental?”
Becky pulled open the whitened lips of Katy’s corpse to reveal missing teeth along the upper gum. “Jane Doe over there doesn’t have missing teeth. Katy’s teeth were knocked out either during a struggle or deliberately.”
“No one knows she’s missing yet,” Mackenzie said.
She inspected Jane Doe closely. Her face looked similar to Katy’s but something was off about it. Mackenzie couldn’t put a finger on it. The tissue distribution in her facial muscles looked odd, notwithstanding the effects of being submerged underwater. Mackenzie noticed slight scarring near the ears and under the eyes.
“These marks, what are they? They don’t look like they’re from being in the water.”
“They’re not. Those are from cosmetic procedures.”
“Really?”
Becky pointed at the scars on the body. “Jane Doe had work done to her face. See these tiny scars along the hairline? To be honest, it’s not my area of expertise, so I can’t tell what exact procedures she had done.”
“Could all these modifications have made her look more like Katy?” Nick asked.
“Looks like it. She’s a natural blonde, but dyed her hair to a color that’s a match for Katy’s. Also, she was wearing colored contacts.” Becky picked up a container on the tray next to the tables. Two lenses floated inside the solution. “Her eyes are actually blue, but she wore brown contacts. Katy has brown eyes.”
Mackenzie’s stomach flipped. She looked at Nick, who was clearly uneasy. Whatever this was, it was twisted and dark. Katy Becker had been killed along with a woman who went to great lengths to look like her. Who was this woman? Why did she take extensive measures to look like Katy?
“What do we know about this Jane Doe?” Mackenzie asked.
“Her teeth are in better condition; I’ll do a dental. Her fingertips are too wrinkled for a reliable biometric identification.”
“What about cause of death?”
Becky pulled down the sheets from their bodies to reveal the wounds on their torsos. The blood had been cleaned. They looked like clean cuts surrounded by some discoloration. “Katy has two stab wounds—one into her spleen and the other into her stomach. Jane Doe had a single stab wound into her lungs. There were no signs of drowning and the depth of these stab wounds would have killed them.”
“Means they were already dead when they were dumped in the water,” Nick said.
“Yup. Jane Doe was stabbed straight, right between two ribs. Clearly the killer knew how to strike and where. But with Katy, the stab wound into the spleen was shallow and at a downward angle.” Becky traced the pattern on Katy’s body. “The one into the stomach was what killed her. The weapon was thrust and then curved at an upward angle toward the ribcage and forced all the way in, as is indicated by the hilt mark. The blade is between three to four inches long. I’ll need more time to come up with the exact shape and finish. My preliminary conclusion is that both were killed with the same weapon.”
“Was it a knife?”
“Can’t say for certain yet. Will have to look at the bone. But looks like it.”
“Any other signs of a fight other than the teeth?” Mackenzie asked. “They seem to have enough knowledge about anatomy; that knife into the spleen looks like an aberration.”
“It’s hard to differentiate between defensive wounds and injuries from being in the water.”
“Any sign of sexual assault?” Nick asked.
“Nothing on breasts or thighs. No bite marks. The clothes weren’t torn; I’ll send them to the crime lab…” She gestured behind her at the plastic bags containing their clothes. “No injuries in the pubic region. I didn’t find any semen on the clothes, either.”
“Can you detect semen underwater?”
“On clothes for up to three months. I’m concluding no sexual assault in this case.”
“Our killer could be a woman,” Mackenzie offered.
“Here’s the kicker. Katy Becker was pregnant.” Becky crossed her arms. “At least ten weeks from my estimation.”
Mackenzie felt a burst of grief. She looked at Katy: cold, rigid, and decomposing. Her eyes flitted to her very slightly protruding stomach, and she felt bile rise in her throat. “How did you know?”
“Her cervix was higher than what I’ve seen in my experience. I got the results back an hour ago. RT-PCR detected beta hPL, confirming early stage pregnancy.”
“Jeez, when did you start working today?” Nick asked.
“Five in the a.m.”
“I wouldn’t be proud of that,” he muttered.
“My diener called in sick, so I didn’t have much of a choice.”
“You closed them back up?”
“Just like the old days. Felt young again.”
It was possible that the killer hadn’t known Katy was pregnant. But in Mackenzie’s experience that wouldn’t have stopped them. This wasn’t a crime of passion. The killer had stabbed them with the intention of ending their lives.
“What about time of death?” she asked.
“Based on rate of decomposition and factoring in that they were underwater, I’d say less than a week.”
“The lake and the river froze over on Sunday—the bodies would have been dumped before that,” Nick mused. “We still don’t know if the bodies were dumped directly in the lake or they came from the river.”
“Another strange thing about our Jane Doe…” Becky shone the overhead light on the end of the table. She lifted the knees of one of the bodies—the one with the procedures done to her face—to reveal tattoos. “She has tattoos on the back of her knees.”
Mackenzie and Nick bent and tilted their heads to get a good look.
“What is that?” Nick asked.
“39A and B75C.”
What did these mean? They were like codes drilled into her body. Letters and numbers that seemingly made no sense.
Becky straightened Jane Doe’s legs and pointed at the shins. Her clumped veins underneath the skin looked gray and decaying. “These are collapsed veins. Sign of a long-term intravenous drug user.”
“She’s a drug addict,” Mackenzie said.
“A big one. I’ll have to run another test to estimate which drug though.”
This Jane Doe was a drug addict, had cosmetic procedures on her face, and had mysterious tattoos on the backs of her knees. Mackenzie stared at the clammy, swollen corpse—a big question mark.
“Anything else?” Nick asked.
“Not for now. I’ll have more information on the murder weapon later.”
“When can we bring in her husband to identify the body?”
“Just give me a heads up.”
“Thanks, Becky.”
The ME covered the bodies with the white cloths again and rolled the trolleys over to transport their bodies to the freezer. “Anytime.”
As Mackenzie silently regarded their matching faces, she couldn’t help but wonder about the fixation behind it. Why had Jane Doe gone to such great lengths to look like Katy?
Five
Mackenzie gazed through the window of the moving car. The leafless trees were a blur of brown and gray. The sun shone through the branches. She had never seen Lakemore look so cold. The mountains of snow swept to the side of the roads were melting. The drooped branches of trees were beginning to coil back up as snow melted off them. The road ahead itself was caked with slush—suds of it flying as cars skidded over it.
She turned up the heat. “I’ve never seen it get this bad.”
“Another storm is coming in the next
few days,” Nick said from the driver’s seat.
Mackenzie looked at her phone again and opened the app that gave her information on Robert’s activity. He hadn’t called anyone or received or sent any text messages. His GPS location showed he had gone to the local market close to the lodge. Probably to buy some essentials.
She closed the app and continued her research into Katy Becker.
Katy had married her husband Cole Becker right after she earned her degree in sociology from the University of Washington. She grew up in Lakemore and had returned with a renewed sense of passion to build something. Cole was from Seattle. He moved to Lakemore with her and opened his own physiotherapy practice.
Mackenzie scrolled down her tweets and smirked. Katy was witty, but Mackenzie didn’t know how she felt about Katy’s entire life being splashed all over the internet for anyone to see. It certainly made Mackenzie’s job easier, from tracking down logistical information to helping her understand Katy better, but it wasn’t wise. She shared where she worked, which bars she went to. She even shared which gym she went to. It would have been so simple for someone to watch her.
Mackenzie wasn’t on any social media. Sterling often suggested to her that it was a good way to maintain contact with her old friends from New York and the academy. She would always brush off the suggestion, too embarrassed to admit that she didn’t have any friends except Nick.
She felt lightheaded and groped for a Gravol in the glove box.
“I told you reading makes motion sickness worse, Mack,” Nick said, with an unlit cigarette dangling from his mouth. He had quit smoking, but it was his habit to fiddle around with cigarettes and lighters—especially if he was stressed or concentrating.
“I was doing research.” She swallowed the pill dry and leaned against the leather headrest.
“What did you find?”
“Katy and Cole have been married for four years now. She likes to wake up with the sun. And he is allergic to peanuts.”
“Vital information.” He snuck a glance at her hands. “What happened with Sterling?”
Her chest tightened. “I don’t know.”
“You’re still wearing your wedding band.”
She hadn’t even realized. Her wedding band had molded into her left hand over the last three years. It was part of her body. Suddenly, she felt it cinching her finger and weighing down her hand. Like it wasn’t a part of her, but a burden she carried.
“Where did you go?”
“Dallas.”
“Dallas?” The cigarette dropped from his mouth and landed on his lap. “Why?”
“Let’s talk about this later.” Mackenzie cracked her neck, regretting her slip of the tongue. She had to talk to Sterling first. But how much did she owe Sterling? Was he completely obliterated from her life and consideration because he had cheated on her? Nick didn’t push the issue; he always knew when to stop. Her marital issues with Sterling were her private business, though Nick had unwittingly found himself right in the middle of it after he had stumbled upon the truth. But she didn’t mind. A part of her found comfort in the fact that there was someone to talk with.
He turned the car into a street with brick townhouses on each side. The trees formed a lush canopy in spring, but now they stood thin and rigid, crisscrossing the sky above. Sheppard Hallows. It was one of the neighborhoods Mackenzie and Sterling had been considering when they were looking for a house to buy. The townhouses were modest, but each had a unique look—different windows, different paints. The minuscule efforts made by owners to add their personal touch. She’d imagined setting up a hammock there and reading. But Sterling said he felt the street was too claustrophobic, the houses too close together. He said he wanted more privacy. She knew he just wanted a bigger house.
Nick parked in front of the address—a corner house. “Someone’s home.” He nodded at the black Prius in the driveway.
Absentmindedly, Mackenzie fixed the pins in her hair and pulled her ponytail higher. She glanced at the little barbecue area in the front with cobbled tiles and patio furniture covered in snow. The white curtains fluttered behind the windows. Someone had seen them. Before they knocked on the door, it swung open.
A wiry man well under six feet, with chestnut-colored hair falling in his eyes, stood at the entrance. He wore a black tracksuit. Removing his earbuds, he frowned at them. “Can I help you?”
Nick flashed his badge. “We’re from Lakemore PD. I’m Detective Blackwood. This is my partner, Detective Price. Are you Cole Becker?”
“Yes. What is this about?”
“Can we come inside?”
“Sure.”
Mackenzie followed Cole and Nick inside. On the outside, their house was unassuming and old. But inside, it had been renovated with everything in white and chrome. Their furniture was glossy with straight lines and sharp edges. It wasn’t ostentatious, but tasteful, and right up Mackenzie’s alley. There was no clutter. On the coffee table, the newspaper and magazines were fanned at uniform angles.
“Is everything okay?” Cole asked.
Mackenzie sat on one of the black leather armchairs, preparing for the hardest part of her job. It was Nick’s too. That’s why he’d had a cigarette in his mouth on the ride over.
“We’re very sorry to bring you this news,” Mackenzie said, “but yesterday afternoon, we discovered two bodies at Woodburn Park.”
Cole began to pale. His lips parted.
“We would like you to come with us to help identify one. We have reasons to suspect it’s your wife.”
“Excuse me?”
Nick shuffled in his seat. “I know this is difficult to process—”
“Is this a joke?” Cole’s voice raised an octave.
“No, Mr. Becker. We—”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” He yanked at his hair and exhaled. “You almost gave me a heart attack. There has obviously been a mistake.”
“Mr. Becker,” Mackenzie tried again, “please try to understand. We have some questions and—”
He rolled his eyes. “She’s not dead. She’s upstairs.” He craned his neck toward the staircase. “Katy! Katy!”
Mackenzie and Nick looked at each other in bemusement. Was Becky mistaken? Becky had never made a mistake, and they hadn’t needed to rely on her entirely. The bodies were fresh. Once the faces were cleaned and were viewed under a bright light, there was no denying that one of them was Katy Becker. She even had the wedding band. She had been inactive on Twitter for the last week. Becky said she died within that timeframe, likely before Monday.
Was Cole mistaken? Maybe he assumed that she was upstairs. Maybe he had just returned from a trip somewhere. Mackenzie’s brain raked over the various possibilities.
A floorboard creaked. She spun her head to see who it was.
Katy Becker glided down the stairs.
Six
Dressed in mismatched T-shirt and pajamas, Katy looked like she had just rolled out of bed. Her dark hair was pulled in a messy bun. Her brown eyes fluttered nervously at them.
Mackenzie jogged her memory and combed through all the pictures she’d seen of Katy online. She looked different. Her cheeks were sunken, and there were dark grooves under her eyes like she hadn’t been sleeping well. Her lips looked like she’d been chewing on them.
Other than her bedraggled state, it was the same woman. Same height, same features, and same wedding band on her finger. It was the same woman lying in the morgue.
“Who are you?” Katy asked.
Cole stood up and guided Katy to sit on the couch. Was she ill? She certainly looked much thinner. “These are Detectives Blackwood and Price from the Lakemore PD.”
“What?” she gasped. “What’s happened?”
Nick opened and closed his mouth like a fish. But Mackenzie was quicker to recover. “We found two bodies at Woodburn Park. Until now, we thought that one of them was you.”
“Oh my God.” Katy’s voice came out breathy.
“The
y were murdered a few days ago,” Nick said warily.
Katy’s neck turned red as she looked at Cole. “C-Cole…”
“They made a mistake,” Cole assured her, rubbing her back. He turned to them with angry eyes. “My wife isn’t feeling well. I think you’ve done enough. If there’s nothing else, then kindly see yourself out.”
Mackenzie wasn’t ready to leave yet. She gazed at Katy, who sat next to Cole like a frightened animal. The way she bowed her body into his. The way she winced whenever she glanced at Mackenzie and Nick. The way she looked like even the slightest sound would make her jump out of her skin.
They might have made a mistake in identifying the corpse, but there was a connection here. Katy’s face had been found on two bodies. One was a replica and the other an uncanny resemblance.
“Do you have a twin?” she asked.
Her eyes widened. “N-not that I’m aware of.”
“Any siblings?”
“No. Do we really have to do this?” Cole asked, impatient.
“We do.” Mackenzie arched an eyebrow. “Two bodies were found and both of them have your wife’s features.”
Cole stuttered, “That’s ridiculous.”
Mackenzie would almost assume that Katy was a battered wife. That’s where her mind went first whenever she encountered an unnerved woman clinging to a piqued man. But their interaction didn’t seem unhealthy, just uncomfortable. Like they didn’t know how to be around each other. Katy flinched when Cole rubbed her arm gently, like she wasn’t used to being touched there. He opened his mouth to say something to her but didn’t, like he wasn’t used to soothing her. There was tenderness in the way they huddled together, but hesitation too.
It reminded her of the way Sterling had kissed her forehead yesterday.
“Katy, do you mind if I have a glass of water?” Mackenzie began to stand up.
“I…” Katy looked at Cole. “Sure.”
Cole let Katy go reluctantly. She led the way, guiding Mackenzie to the open-plan kitchen behind the living room. Nick and Cole’s hushed voices were indecipherable. Mackenzie plopped onto a stool and watched Katy stand on the other side of the kitchen island with her hands hanging down like she didn’t know what to do with them.
Their Frozen Graves: A completely addictive crime thriller and mystery novel Page 4