Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
Amanda rode in the passenger seat while Trent drove them to Manassas for the autopsy.
They were running behind but shouldn’t be too late if traffic continued to cooperate.
Unfortunately, none of the teachers or staff had anything insightful to offer.
Either into Paul’s murder or his family’s abduction.
There were lots of tears and sentiments like that poor family.
Paul’s sense of humor was also mentioned several times, and it made Amanda wish she’d met the man when he was alive.
Before leaving, Amanda made a point of speaking with Libby. Like the rest of them, Libby only had praise for Paul. Great teacher, great father, great man… One vanilla adjective to sum up a life.
“You all right over there? You’re quiet.” Trent turned to look at her.
“I’m fine, Trent.”
“You’re not, but that’s okay. No one would be in your place.”
“I let my daughter get a ride home with my mother, today of all days. I was right there at her school even.”
“You were working. We needed to talk to those teachers.”
“Though, little good that did us.” The words held far more heat than she intended. But she was pissed off at herself. Why did it feel like she was always letting her little girl down?
“We didn’t know that going in. Besides, Zoe knows your job is important.”
She swore Trent could read her mind sometimes. Zoe’s words resurfaced, Find Mr. Archer… “I still feel like utter shit.”
“That’s because you’re a good mom.”
“I’m not feeling like one at the moment.” She clamped her mouth shut when she heard how sulky she sounded.
“Which I could argue is proof that you are. Only the best moms suffer from self-doubt. It’s just a thing.”
She smiled and met his gaze. “A thing, huh?”
“Yep.”
She’d question how he could make that judgment, but she’d rather be comforted by his words. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“Why? Because I’m not going to let you dump on yourself? If so, then, yes, I’m impossible. Self-chastisement is a waste of energy. Same as worry.”
She could certainly think of a better way to spend it. Like finding a killer and bringing a girl and her mother home. “I will give you that.”
“Good. Now let’s hope Rideout finds something that will shed more light on all of this.”
“And dare we wish he’ll give us the ultimate gift—something to lead us to the killer.”
“Oh, I love the complete one-eighty.”
She smirked and shook her head.
Half an hour later, Amanda and Trent were signed in and walking into the morgue.
Rideout paused what he was doing and waved at them with marked enthusiasm.
The reception stood out in such contrast to the dead body on the metal slab in front of him.
He was ready to go, wearing a scrub suit, protective boots, and gloves.
A face shield was on his head, lifted up and on standby.
Amanda looked down at the body of Paul Archer.
In many cases, she visualized bodies coming to life, a trick her mind played on her.
She’d swear the chest was rising and falling.
But not with Paul. With the assault done to his body, it was clear he was beyond return, even cleaned and prepped for the postmortem. “Sorry we’re a few minutes late.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal.” Rideout picked up a syringe from a wheeled table and poked it into Paul’s remaining eye socket and drew out some vitreous fluid.
Amanda had a tough stomach, but this tested its limits.
“All right, so I’ll get this off for testing and see what range it gives us for time of death.”
Amanda and Trent shared a look.
“Yes, I know the birdman gave an approximation for how long the remains were exposed. Presumably that and TOD are close, but they might not be. When a body is left like this one, exposed to the elements, for a number of days, a variety of tests are needed to establish a timeline. Even testing the vitreous fluid on its own at this point is less accurate. But I did find some blowfly larvae at the third instar stage, which tells me the body was likely in that field between three and seven days.”
Amanda glanced over at Trent, who nodded.
Rideout smiled tightly. “It’s like I can hear your minds working.
I know what the man from Wildlife Resources said about the body’s exposure.
I agree that the time of death was days ago, not just a matter of hours.
You said that this man’s family was taken on Saturday.
It’s conceivable that he was killed that day. ”
That supported her and Trent’s earlier theory Paul was killed shortly after he was taken. “Can you confirm if he was killed where he was found or somewhere else?”
“Oh, this was a body dump. The CSIs never found cast-off blood at the scene. Lividity was present on his back and calves, so he was placed supine within a couple hours of his death. My opinion is he was placed in that field not long after death. I can also now tell you I believe two stab wounds to his liver were the cause of death. X-rays showed nicks to the lower right ribs in front of the organ. I also believe these injuries were sustained when the victim was standing up. The rest were inflicted when he was on the ground.”
So the killer kept striking Paul when he was already down… “The rest? How many were there?”
“Seven total.”
“Was he dead after the first two stab wounds?” Trent asked.
“Not immediately. He would have bled out within minutes. It’s likely he was aware of the other stabbings, which I believe happened in rapid succession.”
“He wasn’t tortured then?” It was terrifying to think of the alternative. A sadistic killer madly stabbing away and taking delight in inflicting pain.
“I wouldn’t imagine that was the purpose, and there aren’t any defensive wounds on the victim’s hands or arms.”
Silence cloaked the room. Paul’s hands could have been bound, but if that were the case, Rideout would have said as much. What they were left with was a dangerous killer who was still out there with two more potential victims. “Is there anything else you can tell us about the other stab wounds?”
“The wounds were all in places that would have caused the victim significant pain. Though left untreated on their own, they would have proven fatal.”
“Uh, wouldn’t all stab wounds be fatal if they weren’t treated?” Trent countered.
Rideout wriggled a pointed finger at him. “Someone’s a bona fide smart-ass today.”
“Just today?” Amanda kicked out with a smile. “Kidding.” She held up her hands when Trent looked at her.
Trent grimaced, but smirked. “What can you tell us about the weapon that was used?”
“It was a non-serrated blade, anywhere between four to six inches long.”
“Could it just be a standard kitchen knife?” If so, they’d have a hard time of narrowing things down.
“It’s possible, yes.”
She nodded, trying to hide her disappointment.
“All right, well, now you’re all caught up. You ready?” Rideout didn’t wait for either of them to respond. He lowered his face shield and picked up the Stryker saw from the table next to the body. “You might want to step back.”
Amanda would try to ignore how the image of him holding the saw made her think of snapshots from horror flicks. She and Trent retreated in unison.
Rideout didn’t end up taking the standard approach.
It wasn’t so much a straightforward Y-incision but the removal of ribs that were still obstructing a deep dive into the torso.
The medical examiner made precise cuts, removing pieces of bone and placing them on a wheeled medical table as he proceeded.
Once he was finished, he put the saw down and lifted his shield. “Here we go.” He wasted no time sinking his gloved hands into the torso. He pulled out chunks of organs and intestine that remained after the birds’ feast.
“The stomach is completely gone,” Rideout commented.
A fresh wave of nausea rolled through her. For the next while, she and Trent remained silent while Rideout worked. He examined everything he removed from Paul’s body in depth. It was after some time that he looked over at them, setting down the latest piece of flesh on the side table.
“All right, here’s an update. What was left of the organs in the vicinity of the five nonfatal stab wounds show they were pierced, but there is no evidence of them hemorrhaging.”
The dead don’t bleed… Goosebumps spread over her arms. “So he was already deceased at the time they were inflicted.”
“Correct.”
“Meaning the killer kept attacking him after he was already dead.” There were times like this the depravity of humankind hit hard. But there was one small mercy in this finding. Paul would have been spared further pain. “Our killer takes pleasure in killing.” No longer in question…
Trent nodded. “Agreed, but I still think it’s likely he was killed as an example to his wife and daughter, for whatever reason.”
“To force their cooperation with something.” It wasn’t a new theory, but it took on more dimension and clarity after speaking with Rideout.
It also gave her a fresh idea. “So what are the abductors trying to get out of Valerie or Brooke? But if they still haven’t received what they’re after, that gives us some hope.
Their abductors will keep them alive as long as they are useful. ”
“I hate to interrupt such genius at work, but I wanted to get another point across that I failed to mention earlier. There were no hesitation marks.”
“That cinches it for me,” she said turning to Trent. “We’re looking at a cold-blooded killer, who had their mind set on murdering Paul Archer.”
“That seems like a reasonable conclusion,” Rideout weighed in.
“Well, I have another one.” Amanda turned to Trent. “It’s time to consider either the mother or daughter were the primary target in all of this, making Paul disposable.” Amanda’s phone rang, and she stepped to the side to take the call.
“It’s Jacob,” her caller told her. “I came in a bit early.”
“You have something from the carrier?”
“Not yet, but I’ve followed up with them. They have a mix-up over there, so it might be a bit before we get anything from them.”
“I appreciate the heads-up.”
“I’ll call the second I have anything.”
“Thanks.” Amanda ended the call and returned to Trent and Rideout, ready to tell her partner the non-news update from Briggs when her phone rang again. She looked at the caller ID and blanched. She told Trent, “It’s Detective McGee.”
“He probably heard about his brother-in-law and has some questions. You can’t blame him for calling,” Trent said.
She couldn’t, but she still didn’t look forward to the conversation.
If there were more hours in the day, they might have already spoken with him.
Even if only to assure him nothing in the investigation suggested it had any connection to his missing wife.
She could understand he might be grasping to see the current situation as a link to getting answers about her. Amanda answered, “Detective Steele.”
“Detective McGee. We met—”
“I know who you are, Lloyd.” She let the silence play out its power, relinquishing the direction of the conversation to McGee. He was the one who had called her.
“Is Paul really dead? Murdered?” His words slurred together, and it was clear the Missing Persons detective had been drinking. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Both Rideout and Trent were watching her.
“It might be best if we spoke in person. Give Trent and me about an hour, and we’ll be at your place, all right?”
“Fine.” McGee ended the call.
She pocketed her phone, thanked Rideout for all the updates, and asked him to call her if he made any more discoveries after they left, or if there was any change of opinion on time of death.