Thayer laughed, as the bar was anything but, and slid out of her side. Corey moved over to make room for her and Thayer sat sideways in the booth so she could face her. She cupped Corey’s face in her hands and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “I love you very much.” She whispered and smoothed her thumbs across her cheeks toward her nose. “Put your arms around me.”
Corey did as she was told, wrapping her arms around Thayer’s waist, lacing her fingers. “That’s a little tender.” She winced as Thayer palpated the swollen tissue.
“I know.” Thayer kissed her softly again. “I’m sorry about this.” She pressed her thumbs together sharply at the bridge of Corey’s nose and pulled down and to the right, hearing the satisfying click as her nose realigned.
“Aw, fuck!” Corey roared, jerking back and clutching at her face with both hands as blood started to pour again, seeping through her fingers. “Thayer, what the fuck? Christ, that fucking hurt.”
She winced in sympathy and reached for the towel, prying Corey’s hands away and pressing it to her nose. “You’ll thank me tomorrow, I promise.”
“Don’t fucking count on it,” Corey grumbled, eyes streaming tears, and reached for her beer. “That sucked.”
“Know what else would have sucked?” Rachel slid in opposite them and brought more beer. “Having to look at you and your fucked-up face without laughing for the rest of my life.”
Corey glared at her and reached for the bag of ice, closing her eyes as she placed it gingerly against the bridge of her nose while holding the towel to stem the blood.
The young brunette sauntered over. “Hey, Corey. Are you feeling any better?” she purred.
Thayer was aware there was a young woman at the gym with an insatiable crush on Corey, though she had never met her. Rachel teased her about it all the time as it was somewhat of a joke.
“Emma, what’s up?” Rachel asked loudly enough to get her attention. “Have you met Thayer, Corey’s girlfriend?”
“Oh, hey,” Emma said dismissively, her eyes flicking to Thayer briefly before training on Corey again.
“Emma, of course.” Thayer nodded at the young woman Corey had been drinking with, recognizing the name immediately. “Emma of the skilled cast artwork and right hook—and apparently, high tolerance for tequila.”
“It was a left jab—and mescal,” she corrected snidely, as if Thayer was somehow lacking for not having known that.
Rachel coughed, her eyes darting to Thayer and then to Corey who was reddening furiously.
Corey wiped blood from her face and dropped the towel onto the table so she could talk. “Uh, yeah, better, thanks.” She moved the ice pack so Emma could see. “Thayer fixed it for me.”
“Well, it’s good that you keep her around, I guess.” Emma stretched across Thayer and stroked Corey’s cheek. “It looks better already.”
Rachel’s jaw dropped comically, but Thayer simply arched a brow in amusement as she leaned out of the way.
“Let me know if I can do anything for you, okay, Cor?” Emma rasped suggestively. “See you, Rachel.” She didn’t acknowledge Thayer at all before she left.
“Cor?” Rachel snorted.
Corey placed the ice back on her face and winced, looking at Thayer from one cracked eye.
Thayer watched her walk away, extra swing in her hips, as she joined her friend across the bar whose expression was murderous. She shook her head, biting her lip to keep from laughing out loud at the young woman’s brazen display. “She’s cute,” she said dryly, turning back to Corey.
“You’re not mad?” Corey opened the other eye.
“Do I have reason to be?”
“No, absolutely hell no.” Corey shook her head frantically and groaned in pain, closing her eyes.
Rachel laughed until beer came out her nose.
Chapter Fifteen
For the first time in two months Corey’s splitting skull had nothing to do with her head injury. It was just a good old-fashioned hangover with a side of busted nose.
She blinked against the early morning sun filtering into her room through the cracked blinds and pushed herself higher on the pile of pillows stacked behind her. Thayer had insisted she sleep propped up to keep the swelling down and blood from pooling around her eyes as much as possible.
She gingerly touched the bridge of her nose and was surprised at how normal it felt, only hurting if she applied pressure with her fingers. She supposed she had Thayer to thank for that after all.
Thayer chose that moment to appear dressed for work with a tray of something that smelled wonderful, even to Corey’s sour stomach—a breakfast sandwich, coffee, and water. “You’re awake.” She smiled and set the tray on the bedside table and perched on the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”
“Like an idiot.” Corey ogled the food. “Is that for me? You didn’t have to do that.”
“I feel badly about what happened.”
“You didn’t break my nose and get me drunk.”
“It feels like I did.”
“Come on, Thayer, I’m over it. I say and do stupid shit all the time. Last night being a perfect example. I should be making you breakfast in bed.” Corey reached for her hand.
She looked down at their clasped hands. “Stupid, maybe, but never mean.”
“Give yourself a break, babe.” Corey tugged her fingers until she looked up. “It happened, it sucked and you made it right. Period. End of story. And besides…” Corey grinned. “...if we never fought we wouldn’t have mind-blowing makeup sex to look forward to.”
Thayer smiled. “Too true. Sadly, you were in no condition last night.”
“Well, good thing there’s like a forty-eight hour window where it still applies.”
“Oh really?” Thayer arched a brow. “I hadn’t heard that.”
“New rule.”
“That is a rule to which I will happily comply.” Thayer reached for the plate. “Nana’s hangover cure.”
Corey examined the sandwich excitedly—fried egg, ham, and melty cheese sandwiched between two perfectly toasted pieces of bread. “With ketchup?”
“Of course.” Thayer tucked a napkin in her collar.
“Mmm, amazing,” Corey said around an enormous bite. “Is there any occasion your grandmother doesn’t have the perfect food for?”
“If there is I have never discovered it.”
“Are we going to Rachel’s thing tonight?”
“Sure. If you feel up to it.”
Corey nodded enthusiastically. “I’m fine.”
Thayer’s expression grew serious. “I don’t know what your plans are today and you know I love seeing you during the day but after yesterday...”
“I’ll stay away.”
“Thank you.”
“And speaking of Lil, I’m going with Collier to see her for lunch so he can pick her brain about the Crandalls.”
“Oh, really? Whose idea was that?”
“He wanted you, but I told him you were working and that your grandmother’s affection for me knows no bounds.”
“Indeed,” Thayer agreed. “I suspect were she fifty years younger I’d have to worry about her making a play for you.”
Corey choked on her food, laughing. “Well, in case you were worried, even Lil couldn’t win me away from you.”
“I love you.” Thayer smiled and kissed Corey’s greasy lips. “I have to go. I’ll see you back here later.”
By the time Corey got to campus for Audrey’s analysis, everyone was already there, including Dr. Randall Webster, JCMH’s forensic pathologist and Corey’s boss. With his overly large presence and Steph and Collier, Audrey and Cin, and the two graduate students busy laying out the skeleton on the plastic covered table, there was very little room left in the small lab.
She inched herself over to stand next to Dr. Webster to check in with her boss in person. “How’s it going with your troublemaking resident in the morgue?”
“Turns out running a necrotic bowel first thing in the morning is q
uite humbling. He’s coming around to my way of thinking.” Webster’s blotchy face twitched in humor. “I’m sure it hasn’t been too much of a hardship for you to work with Dr. Marsh on this case?” He was well aware of her interest in forensics and skeletal analysis.
“Not at all.” Corey grinned crookedly. “I haven’t had the opportunity to work with Audrey in a long time so I do appreciate that.” She cocked her head. “Though it has occurred to me that you’re using my chosen profession as a punishment for one of your residents. Should I be offended by that?”
Dr. Webster seemed to give that some thought. “How would you feel about signing out cervical and GI biopsies on glass slides for a week?”
“Ugh.” Corey rolled her eyes. “I’d rather have hot pokers jammed under my nails.”
“Well, okay then.” He nodded. “One person’s profession is another person’s penance—or something like that.”
“Well said.”
“Are we all set?” Audrey drew their attention to the skeleton assembled in the anatomic position on the table in front of them. The bones were stained dark, still visibly greasy and stinking, but clean of rotting soft tissue. Of note, immediately, was the stainless steel plate affixed with screws along the left femur.
The graduate students stepped back and nodded at her, but Audrey continued to stare at the skeleton. “Are you sure?”
Corey glanced around the room. Everyone was now staring at the skeleton as if expecting it to do something, and the graduate students looked particularly anxious as they were tasked with assembling it. She scanned the bones from top to bottom and back again before she saw the problem.
She waited for someone else to move and fix it, but the silence dragged on and no one else appeared to identify the offending bone yet. Steph looked amused and Collier looked annoyed at the delay.
Corey cleared her throat and stepped closer to the table, picking up a glove. “May I?”
Audrey beamed at her and gestured to the table. “Please.”
Corey snapped on the glove before picking up the right fibula and turning it around, correcting the proximal and distal ends which the students had reversed. She gave the students a sympathetic smile and winked at Cin who was shaking her head and fighting a laugh.
“All right, let’s get started.” Audrey snapped gloves on. “This shouldn’t take long.” She walked to the middle of the table and picked up the pelvic girdle which was still intact, the cartilage at the joints tough enough that they hadn’t given way yet so the bones could be separated. “You’ll notice the pubic arch is V-shaped, the subpubic angle as opposed to arch, if you will. The pelvic inlet is smaller and heart-shaped, and the iliac crests are quite high.” She looked around to see if anyone disagreed with her. “So?”
“Male.” The grad students chimed in unison apparently pleased for an opportunity to make up for their earlier foible, even though it was likely everyone already knew this.
“Correct. A woman’s pelvis is designed for child bearing and a man’s is not—simple as that.” Audrey directed her comments to the police, as they were the ones who needed the information, as she set the pelvis back on the table. “For further confirmation we can take a look at the skull.” She didn’t pick it up this time but pointed. “Large mastoid process, pronounced brow ridge and clearly defined external occipital protuberance—again, quite clearly male.”
Audrey stayed at the skull. “Now, as for race, and I use the term loosely. We know that this is inexact at best, but based on the narrow nasal arch, narrow, curved zygomatics, blade incisors, and straight profile, I can say the man was of European ancestry.”
Collier looked up from his notes and scowled.
“White,” Corey supplied.
“Moving on to age. I’ll be able to be more accurate once we’re able to clean up the pubic symphysis, but until then, scoring the cranial vault suture fusion puts this individual as a middle adult. I would estimate late thirties or early forties. This is corroborated by the complete fusion of long bone epiphyses, the last of which—the clavicle and sacrum—occur in the early thirties.” She looked around the room. “Questions so far? Okay.”
Audrey moved to the middle of the table when no one spoke up. “Based on the X-rays taken at the time of defleshing, we already know there were no bullet fragments in the body and there is no evidence in the skeletal record to support his being a victim of a gunshot—or a knife wound for that matter. Does this mean he wasn’t shot or stabbed? No. His wounds could have been all soft tissue injuries and that we cannot assess. However, with the absence of any blood at the scene, and I’m assuming no recovery of a bullet, I would venture to say he was neither shot nor stabbed.”
Collier asked. “Any evidence of strangulation?”
“Ah, well, that’s a good question,” Audrey acknowledged as she picked up a thin, small U-shaped bone from near the cervical vertebrae. “The hyoid bone is intact, which does not rule out strangulation by any stretch, but it is a piece of the puzzle. If it was broken we would be having a different conversation. Dr. Webster, would you like to field this one?”
Webster cleared his throat. “If injuries were sustained from compression of the neck from manual strangulation or hanging, there would be evidence in the soft tissue. We would find bruising on the skin, ligature furrow around the neck, and petechial hemorrhaging into the eyes and skin. Additionally, there be would hemorrhage into strap muscles of the neck or damage to major vessels and infarcts in the brain tissue.”
“Just to land the plane on that one, since there is no soft tissue to examine all I can say with any certainty is there is no evidence of cervical fractures to suggest trauma to the neck.” Audrey paused. “At the risk of veering out of my lane and realm of expertise, and I would never swear to it in court, I would venture to say that the circumstances under which the body was found can rule out strangulation.”
“How so?” Collier asked.
Audrey looked at Steph. “Officer Austin, you were down there—thoughts?”
Corey smiled to herself at Audrey never failing to take advantage of a teaching moment.
“He was a big man, presumably strong,” Steph began. “It would have taken someone as strong or stronger to subdue him, assuming he wasn’t already unconscious. There were no signs of a struggle inside the dwelling to suggest he was killed there and stashed under the house. It would have taken supreme effort to get a body down there. There was not a lot of room. It’s also unlikely that there was a fight beneath the house where he ultimately died, and there was no evidence to support a life-and-death struggle down there.”
Corey nodded, pleased to be picking up more details of the case as they went along. It was always fascinating to get all the pieces and put the final picture together. Collier’s reaction was to simply grunt in acknowledgment of Steph’s comments and return to scribbling in his book, but to Corey’s eyes he seemed relaxed and satisfied with the information presented so far.
Audrey waited a few moments before continuing. “So, what can I tell you? There is no evidence of perimortem injury to the skull or rib cage indicating blunt force trauma, nor to the bones of the arms and hands suggesting a fight or defensive wounds. Nothing that happened to this man at the time of death involved skeletal injury. There is an antemortem record, however, that should aid in identification.”
Corey bit her lip to keep from laughing as Collier looked up, interested, and flipped to a fresh page in his notebook.
“So, the obvious.” Audrey gestured to the femur. “Femoral shaft fracture. Most common cause is car accident.”
Corey couldn’t help notice the look Steph and Collier exchanged. She could read their telepathic conversation from across the room. Edward Crandall, the owner of the property, died in a car accident and it was entirely possible his son, Robert, had been with him explaining the surgical hardware. Certainly it would be easy enough to check out.
“Any way to tell how long ago?” Collier asked.
“In adulthood,
for sure. This plate is fit to this bone.” Audrey picked up the bone and examined it closely. “The bone appears completely remodeled so at least a few years I’d estimate.” She looked over the skeleton. “Otherwise there’s not much else. Dental work which we can, preliminarily, take a look at here. If you need a more in-depth analysis, we can get in touch with a forensic odontologist. I understand you have hair for toxicology and I would encourage you to pursue that angle strongly.” She shrugged. “All right, what did I miss?”
“PMI,” Corey offered.
“Right, of course.” Audrey shook her head. “Post mortem interval is tough here taking into account all the factors, the most critical being that the body was outside and it was warm but also dark. Insects, flies in particular, would have shown up within minutes if not sooner and accelerated what would already be happening pretty quickly in the warm weather. I have larva and pupa samples but no casings, so the life cycle was not complete. We can send them away to an entomologist and we can get a biochemical analysis on soil samples from beneath the body as well, depending on how accurate you want to get. That all takes time and money.”
“Best guess, Doc?” Collier asked.
Audrey considered her answer for a long time. “Four days at a minimum and less than two weeks,” she said. “Can’t be more accurate than that without more testing, but I would opine time since death is closer to the four-day mark.”
“Good enough for now and I totally agree.” Collier snapped his book closed. “With the stench coming from that house, that body was going to be found sooner rather than later.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Left here.” Corey pointed to the nearly hidden entrance.
“The Pond House,” Collier muttered as he drove them down the wooded winding drive to the assisted living home that Thayer’s grandmother, Lillian Thayer, had moved into following a stroke that left her partially paralyzed and blind in her right eye, and unable to care for herself at home.
“Hope I get to hang in a place like this for my last days.” He peered through the windshield at the enormous log cabin-style home with a wraparound front porch lined with rocking chairs that overlooked the carefully tended gardens surrounded by untouched forest. “Seems peaceful. How many residents?”
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