Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
Franklin
I stared down at the skeletal remains of one of the six victims we’d found. Per Dr. Stowe, this one was a white female, just like the rest. Dr. Stowe estimated her age between twenty-five and thirty-five. A smattering of blond hairs had been found around the crown of her head, the rest long gone.
I wasn’t exactly certain what I was doing in the morgue.
The only way I’d be able to make heads or tails out of the remains was if a bullet were found, the bone it sliced through shattered.
I could also pick out a broken limb or two, and a bashed in skull was always a dead giveaway.
The remains lying on the impersonal steel table had no such blemishes.
“Preliminary thoughts, Doc?” I didn’t expect Dr. Stowe to have a complete write-up on each victim.
“Don’t I wish,” Dr. Stowe answered with a frustrated head shake. “So far, I’ve got squat.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Is that your professional opinion?”
Dr. Stowe chuckled as she laid down her chart and shoved her hands into the deep pockets of her white lab coat. “It might as well be.” Tucking one of the many escaped strands of hair behind her ear, Dr. Stowe tossed a frustrated hand in the direction of the remains before me.
“I hate having so little to work with, especially when there is absolutely no indication in the remains as to the initiating cause of death.”
My breakfast sank like a stone. “And the others?”
“I haven’t had time to properly autopsy the rest, but I have a sneaking suspicion they’ll be the same. Obviously, these bodies didn’t bury themselves, so some type of foul play has to be involved. What that might be and who I have no idea. At this point, I don’t even have any IDs I can get you.”
Rubbing the back of my neck, my eyes gazed into the dark, fathomless, empty eye sockets of our victim.
“Six women, five of whom are fairly young… You’d think we’d be inundated with missing persons reports.
” That was one of the many thoughts that had kept me from catching a few winks earlier this morning.
Dr. Stowe blinked twice before answering. “You’re right.”
“And yet, I’ve got a whole lot of nothing.” I’d gone through missing persons reports this morning and found two that might fit. Considering how full our morgue was, the numbers didn’t add up.
“How far have you extended your search?”
“I started with our own and surrounding counties before expanding to the whole state. Could be that our victims are transients or that they lived lifestyles that put them at risk. Could be that no one’s looking for them.
” I didn’t know which was worse: having to notify loved ones regarding the decedent or having absolutely no one to contact.
The thought that there were people out there that no one cared about, that no one worried over, was gut-wrenching.
Stepping closer, Dr. Stowe pointed to the victim’s teeth. “She’s had good dental work. Bone structure and density point to someone who’s been well cared for. If she did live that kind of lifestyle, it’s been a recent development.”
I ran a hand over my face. My recent shave made the contact nearly silent. “Captain Cicely gave me the go-ahead to involve Boone. I assume you’re good with that.”
“I think it will be the quickest route to answers. For proper identification, I would need someone to compare dental records or DNA to.”
“And I’ve got nothing on that front.”
“One of the victims broke a femur and has a steel plate. It will be numbered, and I can search the medical database. I can get you an ID on that one. But that’s the exception, not the rule.
To be honest, I think it’s time to call in the calvary,” Dr. Stowe blew out a breath.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to be present when he brings back the souls. ”
“I don’t mind as long as Boone’s okay with it.” I couldn’t imagine he wouldn’t be. Boone wasn’t a carnival act and didn’t necessarily like a looky-loo audience, but Dr. Stowe hardly qualified as that type of spectator.
Digging out my phone, I brought up Boone’s number and hit the send button. My fiancé answered after the first ring.
“Did you bring enough candy?” My question drew an exasperated huff from Boone.
“If I didn’t, I’m sure you’ve got plenty stashed around here somewhere.”
Boone wasn’t wrong. “Hmm, perhaps. I still like to know you’re packing sugar along with your pops’s charms.” Boone’s multiple pockets bulged with both.
“Jolly Ranchers, second pocket, right side of my vest.” Boone patted said pocket.
“Peanut M&M’s loaded in the left.” Peeking around my side, Boone eyed a nearby desk.
“And I see you’ve got a couple of cans of soda on standby as well.
I believe any blood sugar concerns have been anticipated and well planned for. ”
Boone could fuss at me all he liked. That wouldn’t stop me from trying to take care of him.
When it came right down to it, there wasn’t a lot I could really do to support him.
Making certain Boone didn’t have a blood sugar crash—or at least had the remedy ready at hand—was the least I could do.
Sometimes it was the only thing I could do.
“I won’t apologize for taking care of you.”
My defensive words earned me a goofy grin and a chaste kiss on the lips. “I never asked you to. And for the record, I like you looking out for me. It’s very charming.”
My cheeks heated, probably matching my skin to my hair color. “Charming, huh?”
Boone kissed me again. “Very charming. So much so it’s difficult for me to believe you didn’t grow up in the South.”
“Us northern guys can be gallant.” I’m not sure why I felt the need to defend my north-of-the-Mason–Dixon-Line heritage.
“Hmm, a fact I am now very much aware of and grateful for as well.”
Boone and I both missed the morgue door opening and closing. Neither of us missed Captain Loretta Cicely’s pointed throat-clearing.
“Oops.” Boone grinned, his palm lingering on my chest as he turned his head and said, “Sorry, not sorry.”
Captain Cicely’s answering smile was genuinely fond. “It’s fine. I can handle PG-rated PDA. Just make certain it stays in that category while under my roof.”
“Aye, aye, Captain,” Boone answered seriously. A little two-fingered salute added that special something.
With a roll of her eyes, Captain Cicely moved further into the room. “Thanks for coming in today, Necromancer Boone.”
“Erasmus,” Boone answered. “You asked me to call you Loretta, so fair is fair.” Thumping my chest, Boone said, “Only this guy calls others by their last names.”
“Fair enough. Thank you for coming in today, Erasmus.”
“No problem.” Boone waved her off. “One of my private cases, also a police issue but in a different county, is currently bogged down in legal shenanigans. I’ve got the time and necromancer juice.” Boone’s eyes briefly flared emerald before settling down into their typical shimmering green.
Captain Cicely inhaled deeply, letting loose an equally deep sigh as her eyes tracked the room, now filled with six nearly intact specimens of skeletal remains. “How did we miss this, O’Hare?”
Guilt punched me in the gut. “I wish I knew. I’ve gone through missing persons, and to be perfectly frank, we don’t have nearly enough that fit the preliminary victimology to account for the graves we found. These women are either from other states or were never reported missing.”
Hands on hips, Captain Cicely hung her head. “Can’t say that either of those scenarios sound appealing.”
“You’ll get no disagreement from me. I—”
“Found one!” Dr. Stowe plowed through the door of her office, the swinging door flying back and hitting the wall.
“I got a positive hit on the bone plate.” Walking to a set of remains laid out on a table along the far wall, Dr. Stowe used her pen to point to a gleaming section of metal.
“May I introduce Anna Garvey. Twenty-three, unmarried with no children and hailing from Alabama. Anna broke her femur at the tender age of seventeen. Medical records simply say it was during a sporting event in high school.”
“Hello, Anna,” Boone greeted.
“Did you bring her back?” Dr. Stowe asked.
“No. Just thought it was polite to greet her bones.”
I wrapped an arm around Boone’s shoulders, pulling him closer and pressing my lips to the crown of his messy hair.
“Oh.” Dr. Stowe’s eyes widened before she gave a single nod. “Okay, then. Where would you like to get started?”
Pulling on his bottom lip, Boone looked around the room before heading to the oldest set of remains. “She’s different,” Boone said. “Right or wrong, I’d like to start with her. We’ll save Anna for last since we at least have an ID on her.”
“Makes sense,” Captain Cicely agreed. “Let me get my phone out, and we’ll start recording.
I charged it last night so we should be good to go.
” Captain Cicely’s ringed fingers danced along the edge of her phone.
The newly installed LED lights glinted against the metal and stones. “Anytime you’re ready.”
Boone inhaled, eyes slipping closed and shoulders relaxing.
I knew this pose well. Boone told me it helped him block out any other competing souls, allowing him to focus on the one he wanted to connect with.
In a room full of presumably murdered women, centering himself was probably more important than usual.
“Gotcha,” Boone whispered before his eyes opened, revealing stunning emerald-green irises that were seemingly lit from within. “Gladys Eugenia Clark, I call your soul to return.”