17
Emma sat alone in her car, doubting the logic of waiting for Noelle to show up at the medical examiner’s building. After Noelle had told her that morning that her mother’s gun had been found in a grave, Emma hadn’t been able to think about anything else.
I have to know if that body is my mother’s.
Noelle had left late for work after waiting out one of her horrible headaches.
But she’d taken several phone calls, and Emma had listened from the next room, guilt swamping her for snooping.
But there was a chance that the calls would be about her mother.
She hadn’t been able to stop herself from listening.
Emma learned that the odontologist Noelle had mentioned happened to be in the area on vacation, renting a house with her husband outside the cute town of Sisters.
Emma had always liked the little city’s old-fashioned buildings and small shops, but she didn’t like its swarms of tourists and traffic.
Emma had then overheard that Noelle would be at the ME’s office in a few hours to go over the results of Dr. Harper’s dental findings.
Emma had decided she had to be there.
What will Noelle say when she sees me?
Emma suspected she’d be sent back home. Or to work. She checked the time. Her shift started in an hour. Surely the forensic specialist could make a decision in that time.
Noelle’s 4Runner pulled into the parking lot, and Emma sat up straight. She took a deep breath and got out of the car, her gaze following the detective as she strode toward the building.
Noelle was clearly in work mode. Her chin was up, her walk purposeful.
Emma raised her own chin and sped up her steps, imitating the confidence that rolled off the woman.
She’d watched Noelle for months, studying her mannerisms, trying to understand how the detective always appeared so self-assured—especially around people.
The woman was a master of eye contact and smiles.
Noelle’s sister Lucia had told Emma she’d developed that skill while tending bar long ago.
Noelle learned to read her customers and project an attitude she knew they would respond favorably to.
Whether she needed to be chatty, flirty, or quiet, or even enter a debate.
Lucia had sworn she could read people’s minds after observing them for a few moments.
Emma had agreed. The first time she’d met Noelle, she’d felt as if the woman immediately knew everything about her.
Emma had heard Evan say Noelle was one of the best interviewers he’d ever worked with.
Noelle had a psychology degree, and Emma had started to research the subject, considering pursuing the degree in college.
Maybe I’ll be a therapist.
She had a strong admiration for her therapist, who’d helped her—and continued to help her—work through her trauma.
Noelle reached the building’s door and went inside. Emma turned up her speed, reaching the door about ten seconds behind the detective. Inside, she saw Noelle speak to someone at the counter and then step back as if to wait. She turned her head and met Emma’s gaze, and her eyes widened.
“Emma! What—”
“Noelle?” A petite woman in a long lab coat interrupted as she entered the lobby from an inside door. She stopped and looked from Noelle to Emma, one brow rising in question.
“Hang on a second, Lacey.” Noelle moved across the lobby to where Emma stood just inside the entrance.
She’d been unable to move a muscle once Noelle’s hawklike gaze had locked on her.
“You shouldn’t be here, Emma,” she said in a low voice.
Her eyes had softened as she drew closer, patience filling them.
Emma blinked several times as she searched for the right words. “I need to know,” she finally said. “I deserve to know.”
“You do,” agreed Noelle. “And I’ll immediately tell you everything I find out. You can wait here in the lobby.”
“No, I want to be there.”
“Emma . . . I don’t think you realize what—how—” Noelle paused. “This isn’t something you want to see,” she finally said.
“But it’s my mother,” she whispered, tears smarting. “I should be there.”
“Excuse me.” The woman in the lab coat approached. With curious brown eyes, she looked from Noelle to Emma. “You might be related to the victim?”
Emma nodded, unable to speak.
“Lacey, this is Emma Chambers. She lives with me,” said Noelle. “Emma, meet Dr. Harper. She’s the tooth expert.”
“Odontologist,” said the woman. “And call me Lacey.” She looked back to Noelle.
“All we’ll be looking at right now are X-rays on a computer screen in an office.
I think it’d be fine for her to be there.
I’ve already taken films on the victim, but I haven’t done the comparison.
” She looked at Emma firmly, projecting an expectation of calm behavior if she allowed Emma to watch.
Emma nodded and looked hopefully at Noelle, who appeared unconvinced.
“Boring little gray rectangles on a computer screen,” said Dr. Harper. “It’ll be fine.”
“Okay.” Reluctance sounded in Noelle’s voice. “We’ll give it a try.”
“Great,” said Lacey. “Follow me.” She gave Emma a kind smile. Noelle and Emma followed the blonde odontologist through a door and into a long hallway with dated tile floors.
That smell.
Emma tried to hide the jerk of her body.
She’d faintly registered that the lobby had an odd odor, but in the hallway, it slapped in her in the face.
It was a combination of bleach and strong cleansers with an underlying scent of .
. . something dead. She pictured the autopsies she’d seen on TV shows.
She’d never considered the smells. Emma thought she’d seen Noelle hesitate as they first stepped into the hall and then push on after Dr. Harper, but she must have imagined it.
A smell wouldn’t bother her.
Emma shifted her brain into the space where she imitated Noelle’s composure and confidence and immediately felt better. After years of cowering from her father and trying to become invisible to the bullies at school, the shift had at first felt incredibly wrong. Now it almost felt normal. Almost.
Dr. Harper stepped into a small conference room where she’d clearly been working.
One of the chairs had a bag hooked over the back, and a half-empty cup of coffee, a notebook, and a pen sat next to a laptop.
There was also a large monitor connected to the laptop.
Dr. Harper shrugged out of the long lab coat, and Emma was amused to see she wore shorts and a T-shirt.
She’s on vacation.
The dentist plopped down in the chair and waved Noelle and Emma in closer.
“Like I said, I took digital dental films on the skull in question. From those and my visual exam, I noted dental work and missing teeth on this standard chart.” She indicated a paper form that seemed to show more teeth than Emma believed any person had.
As she studied it, Emma realized there were three drawings of every tooth and Dr. Harper had made marks on some. Others were completely crossed out.
“See here?” The dentist indicated one of the films on her computer.
“This tooth has a composite filling that involves two sides of the tooth, so I’ve marked it like this.
” She pointed at a tooth on the form labeled “#31,” to which she’d added the filling in blue.
“I always do a complete charting before I start a comparison.” She brought up a set of four dental films on the second computer screen.
“These are the films you sent me, Noelle. They’re sixteen years old, but since they’re digital, they’re as clear as the day they were taken.
I wish there were more, but these are sufficient. ”
“Those are my mother’s?” asked Emma.
Noelle nodded.
Dr. Harper went quiet for a moment as she looked at the films, and Emma suspected she’d come to a conclusion almost instantly.
“I’ll do a full charting of these films,” the doctor said slowly. “But I can tell you right now, these are not films of the same person.” She glanced at Emma. “I’m sorry.” Her dark eyes were sympathetic. “I know what it’s like to wonder for years about what happened to someone you loved.”
Emma was numb. She stared from one computer screen to the other. All the films looked the same to her. Her mind started to spin. If this wasn’t her mother, then where was she?
Why was her gun buried with this person?
“Are you sure?” Emma asked. Her voice didn’t sound right to her. “You said yourself you wished you had more of my mother’s films. There’s only four, and you took a ton on the skull. How can you tell?” Her words came out fast, her breaths tight.
Noelle set her hand on Emma’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry, honey.”
“I see several differences, but I’ll show you an obvious one.” She pointed at a tooth on Crystal’s films. Part of it was whited out. “The white blob is a silver filling. On the films I took today, that tooth doesn’t have any dental work. It’s the same with two other teeth.”
Emma stared, trying to understand. “But people sometimes have silver fillings removed, right?”
“They do. But they have to be replaced with more dental work. These three particular teeth I filmed today have never had any work done on them.”
“Are you sure it’s the same tooth? I mean—”
Noelle cut her off. “I understand what you’re feeling, Emma, but Dr. Harper is the expert here.”
“I still need to take films on and chart the remaining two female victims,” the dentist said. “I’ll compare them to your mother’s films.”
“Could you take a quick look at the other skeletal victim?” asked Noelle, tightening her hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Perhaps there is a fast way to eliminate that one.”
Patience entered the odontologist’s eyes.
“I have a particular routine I like to follow during my exams,” said Dr. Harper.
“But I’ll go take a quick look and see if something rules them out immediately.
If I don’t see anything, you’ll have to wait for me to do a thorough examination.
” She pushed back her chair. “I’ll be right back. ”