by Jenny Allen
Lilith paused to really reflect on that, giving her eyes a break away from the body. “In fact, it is more likely that it’s two separate assailants. The extent of the trauma to the face would have fractured or broken the assailant’s hands. Being able to make cuts this precise a mere day later seems highly unlikely.”
She glanced back at the eyes, resting loosely in their sockets. The blue was faint, but there, glazed over. The aqueous fluid was thick and cloudy by now. Lilith closed her eyes and had to push herself to continue. She just kept seeing Miriah’s smiling eyes in the myriad of pictures hanging in the apartment that neither Miriah nor Malachi would ever see again.
No. She couldn’t even be certain that this was Miriah. She needed to stay impartial and focused if she was going to get through this. After another steadying breath, Lilith returned to examining the face. “The extent of the bruising indicates possible fractures to the Zygomatic and Frontal bones around the ocular cavities.” She leaned to one side, flicking on a pen light and flashing it over the hairline. “More possible fractures around the temples. This was a hell of a beating. I can’t really see the same person being capable of the clean incisions. Whoever pounded the victim’s face had no control over their anger and most likely wouldn’t be able to reign it in long enough to inflict the rest of these cuts.”
Lilith took the probe and pushed at the bluish lips, prying the mouth open. With her handy pen light, she verified that at least nine teeth were missing, most likely inflicted at the time of the beating. She opened the mouth wider and checked the roof of the mouth. There were two gaping wounds just behind the front teeth. “Fangs have been removed, looks like they were yanked out.” She felt suddenly queasy as her tongue unconsciously ran over her own fangs, tucked away. It would be excruciatingly painful to have them torn out of your skull and it was definitely done while the victim was alive. If they’d been removed after death, there wouldn’t be congealing blood around the wounds.
“Fangs have been violently and forcibly removed. It appears to have occurred around the same time as the precision work. Perhaps they were a focal point of rage. That could be significant.”
Lilith squatted down, gathering her thoughts. She felt flushed, hot and nauseous. Her head pounded furiously as she fought to breathe. This was by far the worst she’d ever seen. It easily surpassed every burn victim and staked body put together. How could anyone do this? The wounds and smells told the story of hours and hours of painful torture. Once she had her breathing under control and swallowed the bile rising in her throat, she pulled herself back up and forced herself to keep going.
“There are thousands of very precise, painful but superficial wounds all over the body. An extremely sharp blade sliced through the dermis and into the skeletal muscle. The weapon could be some sort of razor or scalpel. The extent and patterns of blood seem to indicate that she was standing, strapped firmly to something. Rope burns are deep with massive contusions at the neck, bottom of the rib cage, hips, wrists, lower thighs and ankles. There is blood surrounding every wound, indicating they were all inflicted while the victim was still alive.”
Lilith turned the arms to check them over and paused, squinting at a tiny mark. “There are puncture wounds at the vein in the bend of the left arm...and the right. She must have lost a lot of blood during the ordeal and it seems they might have been supplying her with additional blood to keep her alive. They avoided deep wounds to keep her from going into shock. None of the incisions cut all the way through the skeletal muscle to the bone. It is far too methodical to be simple… fun. There was a distinct, determined purpose. Perhaps they wanted information from her or someone who cared about what happened to her.” Her stomach lurched at that thought and she fought the bile back down again.
God, if Duncan had been there…if he’d been forced to watch, helplessly. The very thought of that brought stinging tears to her eyes. Just thinking about how horrifying it would be to watch a loved one tortured to such an extent. It could drive a person into such a deep mental shock that they become catatonic. She couldn’t imagine having to watch while your own daughter was reduced to… Words failed her. It was just too horrible to sum up into one word. The hot, stabbing headache came back with a vengeance, making her stomach churn violently.
Lilith stopped to clear her mind and steel her nerve. This was the one thing, the only thing, she could do to figure out what was happening. Bodies tell a story and she needed to know this one. As horrible as it might be, it could save all their lives. She had to think of Duncan, Gregor, Chance, even herself. With a teary-eyed, yet determined push, she made her way back to the desk and forced her eyes to focus.
The body was riddled with a mixture of burns, patches of removed skin and cuts that left chunks of flesh missing. However, even those gaping wounds weren’t rough tears. They were very precise, clean cuts removing sections of flesh. It takes a very steady, practiced hand. Even the elastic cartilage of her ears was sliced into ribbons. God. She fought back another wave of nausea. Who the hell would even think to slice a person’s ears like Julianne fries? Just thinking about how painful that would be crippled her. She worked her way back down the body, verbally cataloging each and every wound as she went.
When she got to the hands, she stopped again. They were just purple masses of flesh in a vague hand shape. She moved her deft fingers along them, and found that every single bone in the hand was shattered. The coloring in the bruises varied a great deal, some darker, some lighter. The bones weren’t broken all at once, they’d been broken one at a time. This monster had no soul, just a sickening amount of precision, and perhaps obsession. There are approximately 27 bones in the hand and wrist and he made sure that every single one of them in both hands were broken, from the tiny carpuls of the wrist to the phalanges of the fingertips.
She shook it off and forced herself to keep going, despite the roaring headache that was getting worse and worse. The feet were still intact, probably to keep her supporting her own weight as much as possible. If the feet were shattered in the same way, the ropes would have to support one hundred percent of her weight. The victim’s weight. Dammit. She had to keep this neutral. There was a reason that examiners used neutral terms like victim and attacker, instead of him and her. You can’t think of the body as a person, especially when it’s this bad. You’d lose your sanity and your focus.
Another deep breath to clear her mind and she focused back on the body, blinking back tears. Shreds of clothing were hard to distinguish from the brutalized flesh. Lilith placed the probe on the table and reached for the tweezers. She pulled at a button, glistening at the center of the chest. The fabric it was attached to was stiff and sticky with blood. There were more wounds, the same careful and precise style as the others.
Malachi had been nothing like this. His were tons of ragged slices, some deep, some superficial. Nothing as calculated as this. It couldn’t be the same person. The difference was day and night. It was like comparing Monet to a kindergartener. However, they were similar enough to definitely be connected. It was like the killer in New York was trying to imitate this one. Not that this was art, it was the most horrific thing she’d ever seen. Still the psychotic demon that did this probably considered himself an artist. She never understood that aspect of signature killers, how they could look at something like this, and consider it some masterpiece to be admired.
Lilith shivered just thinking about it and her stomach churned angrily once again. Damnit. She had to focus. How many pep talks was she going to have to give herself to get through this? This was her job, what she did every single day. Despite her better instincts, her eyes glanced back up to the mangled face. This wasn’t just another body, another nameless stranger. This was Miriah. She just knew it in her bones.
“Snap out of it. Get it together. Just finish and you can get out of here.” With an angry huff she focused with every fiber in her body. She found the waist band of pants, or at least they had been once. It looked like the burns and cuts that
covered her hips and thighs were inflicted through the material, leaving only patches of fabric. In some places it was actually melted into the skin making it impossible to tell where fabric stopped and flesh began. The distinct smell of urine was stronger here, even through the menthol coating the skin under her nose. She covered her mouth with the back of one gloved hand and choked on the ammonia smell burning her nose.
When the coughing finally stopped, she focused on the pants, trying to identify every scrap of fabric she could find. Her tweezers caught the curving line of something. She pulled at it and found a pocket. Lilith lifted the tweezers and used her pen light to peer inside. There was a slip of stiff paper, soaked in blood, wedged into the tiny fold of fabric. It could be completely inconsequential, or it could be pivotal. Either way, she needed that little ray of hope.
Very carefully she pulled at it with her tweezers. The paper was delicate from the moisture, and it took her several tries to pull it free. She couldn’t really make it out, so she slipped it into a plastic bag and sealed it. She’d have time to look it over when they were out of here, away from this mess.
“Found a piece of paper in the right and only remaining, pocket. I’ll have to take a closer look at it later. The cause of death could be shock, exsanguination…” Her eyes stopped at the bruising rope burn at the neck. From her point of view, down at the victim’s waist, something looked odd…different.
Lilith moved along the desk and peered closer at the rope burns and bruises. There was a flap there. She prodded along it with her tweezers and realized it was a razor thin slice through her throat that ran all the way through the windpipe and the jugular. “Or the deep cut to the neck, which is the more likely cause.”
Lilith chose a bloodless finger to jam the stop button on her phone and shoved it into her pocket. She’d gone over everything she could think of and it was all just too much. She couldn’t stay in this room one minute longer. Her whole body was trembling as she backed away from the desk, clutching the plastic bag containing the blood soaked paper. Tears were stinging at her eyes and every muscle felt thoroughly exhausted from her effort to keep it together and examine Mir… the body. All the strength flooded out of her as the logical side shut down and reality crashed down on her. Miriah was just a mutilated corpse on a table, with lifeless, lidless eyes staring at the ceiling.
Panic started to rise in her stomach as she backed completely out of the room, unable to take her eyes off that damn desk. Arms grabbed her from behind and she screamed. Before she could kick or scratch, Chance sank to the floor with her and was whispering in her ear. “Hush, hush. You’re safe. You’re okay.” Lilith turned in his warm arms and buried her face against his chest. Everything she’d been holding back came roaring over her. The nausea was barely containable, hitting her in hot waves as her head throbbed angrily. Huge, heaving sobs wracked her body as her hands clutched painfully tight at his shirt. His arms wrapped around her like a cocoon.
He felt so warm, so safe, and she drank it all in while her tears soaked his shirt. Chance rested his chin on the top of her head and just kept whispering while rocking her gently back and forth. Her mind couldn’t make sense of his words anymore but the soft, deep sound comforted her anyway. Her legs drew in close to her body and she was still shaking once the tears finally stopped. Chance just held her with no signs that he had any intention of moving or letting her go.
When she finally found her voice it was weak and broken. “What they did to her…” Her heart started pounding furiously again just remembering and Chance smoothed a hand back and forth over her back.
“Shhh. Lily. You don’t have to tell me. I heard everything.” There were tears in his voice, and when he continued it strained and cracked in a few places. “God I am so sorry. I…I never should have let you…you didn’t need to see that.” Very gently he continued to rock them back and forth, back and forth.
Lilith just closed her eyes, slowly relaxing against him. She focused on the steady beat of his heart and let it chase everything else away. They must have been on the floor for half an hour or more when she finally opened her eyes. She craned her head back to look up at Chance. He stared down at her and wiped her cheeks softly. His beautiful face was haunted and sad, and she was sure hers was even worse. He wiped a stray auburn strand back and leaned in close, pressing a soft kiss against her forehead that filled her with warmth.
Chance pulled back, his eyes still on hers and she knew there was so much more there than he’d ever admit to. Lilith swallowed the sudden lump in her throat that made her eyes well up. “We need to get out of here, Chance. The body isn’t a danger here. The facilities won’t pick up on the anomalies and her fangs were…removed. We just need to get out.”
“Even if they don’t make her as a vamp, she’s still an extreme crime case. They will assume, rightly so, that this is Miriah. They’re going to ask questions. We’ve been seen around her apartment, maybe even here.”
Lilith hugged his arms tighter around her and thought through everything. It was a struggle to think about anything beyond Miriah’s poor body. She stared blindly at some random spot on the floor as she rattled together her thoughts. “We can’t move the body. It is too much of a risk and the body is too… damaged. If we moved it, she’d be considered missing. She works here with at least one other person. She’ll be missed which means an investigation. There’s no way we can clean all evidence of blood in that room. We’ll be questioned one way or another now. If they find any evidence on us or our car, you can guarantee we won’t get a fair trial. Even if we did, we could never explain. We have to leave her here.”
“It seems that our nameless phantom is forcing our hand.” Chance sighed and leaned his cheek against the top of her head.
Lilith frowned at the blood specks on Chance’s arms from her gloves. She pulled them off, tucked them in the bag with the bloody scrap of paper and pulled a fresh pair from her pocket. As she pulled on the gloves, she really thought about what he’d just said. “He is a very purposeful man. Every single wound on her body…” Her voice broke and she swallowed down tears before she could continue. “Every wound was done with careful purpose. It was cold, logical, devoid of emotion. He didn’t put her here to scare us, it’s not random. It’s a message. I just don’t have the cipher to understand it. Maybe he wants the complication of the police, I just don’t know. We need to get out of here though. If our car hasn’t been spotted here, it’s just a matter of time until it is.”
“Since the cops are going to be involved, maybe we should call them now. “
Lilith mulled that over for a moment and finally shook her head. “No. We can’t say we found her and then stopped to examine the body.” She let out a heavy sigh. “If we leave now there is a chance we can’t be placed here at all. If the car has been seen and it eventually comes up, we can say we came to meet with Miriah, waited for her and when she didn’t show, we left. If we call the cops now and it’s already been spotted, they’ll want to know why we waited here, with her mutilated body, over two hours before calling the cops.”
“That’s a pretty simplistic excuse. Why wouldn’t we try the door?”
“We would have no reason to if her car wasn’t here, which it isn’t.”
“Maybe I should be worried about how easily you can fabricate lies.” The soft smile in his voice brought a smile of her own to her lips.
“I’ve heard them all and I know which ones sound like absolute crap. A couple out-of-towners waiting on a family member to meet them some place easy isn’t an odd thing at all. Simplistic is best. If you get too fancy then you’re easier to trip up and it never sounds as honest. We’ll be fine. We should get going now though.”
He nodded softly and very reluctantly opened his arms to let her up. When she was sitting up, she looked nervously over her shoulder at him. “Thank you, Chance.” He smiled weakly at her. “I need to grab my kit and tools from…” Her voice trailed away as her eyes fixed on the door leading to the other room, the
room of horrors.
Chance got to his feet first and held out a hand to stop her from moving. “I’ll get them. You’ve done enough, Lily.”
Lilith pulled a pack of alcohol wipes out of her other pocket and wiped at the bloody spot on his arm that her glove left and handed the rest of the pack to him. “Wipe wherever you may have touched anything. I’ll have to get my tools. I need to clean them before they go in the case.”
A few horrifying minutes later they were piled into the tiny rental and speeding toward the apartment. All her tools were nice and sterile again and the bloody alcohol wipes went into a zip lock bag. She’d made another quick scan of the offices, making sure she hadn’t forgotten anything.
Once they were a few minutes away from Miriah’s office, she called. She figured it’d be safer than telling him in person considering his recent erratic behavior.
“Spencer, we found her.” Lilith tried to keep it as indiscreet as possible. You never knew who was listening.
“You found her??” He was totally shocked.
“Yeah, well, it wasn’t pretty, Spencer.”
“Impossible.” The last was almost a whisper. Denial was a pretty common response. Silence stretched and then he finally spoke up again. “I’m still checking Malachi’s place. He has a lot of real estate records.”
“Check for anything on the Phipps Bend Property.”
“The what? The old nuclear place? How did you hear about that rubble pile?” Shock again.
“Yeah, Duncan referenced it. Just check for it.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll meet you back at the apartment when I’m done here. Might be quite a while though. You can give me the full report then.” He sounded angry, and she supposed he should be, but it still just seemed…off, like he was angrier that they found her, than the fact that she was quite thoroughly dead.
Spencer hung up before she could say anything else. She just stared at the phone for a minute. Something nagging at the back of her mind that she just couldn’t quite catch. Finally, Lilith turned in her seat to look at Chance. “Spencer is going to be late to the party. He’s going through real estate records. Let’s get back to the apartment, take a look at that tin.” Chance nodded simply and got them there in record time.