Chapter 12
WATER, COMBINED WITH TIME, CAN do horrific things to a dead body.
Under the bright lights of the hospital morgue, the pictures Alice Chu has just sent Barb leave little to the imagination.
The woman lying on the stainless steel autopsy table is grossly discolored and bloated from the internal gases, and her skin shows prominent vascular marbling.
On her hands and feet, the outer layers of her dermis have begun to slough away, which happens when soft tissue is immersed under water for a long period of time.
While it’s safe to assume that the body was in the water for at least a few days before being discovered by Edna Sparrow’s Bernedoodle, decomposition rates are greatly affected by the cold temperatures and presence of salt in the Pacific Ocean.
The exact time of death will be difficult to determine.
No official ID yet, Alice has noted in her email. Still a Jane Doe.
Barb zooms in on the bruises around the victim’s neck, which suggest she was choked at some point before her death.
This doesn’t mean she died from strangulation.
The official cause of death has not yet been confirmed by the medical examiner, and Hassan Nassif will base his conclusions on the amount of water found in the woman’s lungs, petechial hemorrhaging, blood pooling, and several other factors.
In sharp contrast to the horrors of her body, there are no obvious injuries to the woman’s face, though the laxity in her skin makes it hard to determine her exact facial features.
Her black hair has been brushed back off her face, and her thin, almost emaciated body makes the breast augmentation Alice mentioned before all the more prominent; the outline of her implants is clearly evident.
Before joining Trophy Wives, Kylie Kahl had documented her breast augmentation “journey” on TikTok.
But her Seaside PD contact is right—the body is still a Jane Doe.
As much as this woman may resemble the reality star, it’s definitely not Kylie Kahl.
There is no neck tattoo. And her hair is the same shade from roots to tips—no evidence it’s been colored.
It was always a shot in the dark, but Barb is disappointed nevertheless.
While it’s good news that Kylie hasn’t been found dead, the fact that she hasn’t been found at all could drive a person mad.
Jane Doe’s fingernails are short and ragged, and she’s wearing a ring on her left middle finger. The thin silver band with a pale green gem in the center catches Barb’s eye, and she zooms in as far as she can to get a better look. When the details blur, she shoots Alice a text.
Thanks for the photos. Any chance you have a clearer picture of the ring on her finger?
Alice’s reply comes in a moment later.
No, sorry, this was all I could get.
Barb continues to stare at the ring. There’s a sense of familiarity about the simple piece of jewelry, and it’s niggling at her. She racks her brain, but whatever fragment of a memory is there flits just out of reach.
The last two photos are of the detached foot, one with the shoe on and one with it off.
The shoe, a sneaker, is a ubiquitous green Adidas Samba that you can buy anywhere (Barb has the same pair in burgundy).
Without the shoe, the bare foot does appear to match the one still attached to the body.
Both feet have small bunions about the same size, a longer second toe, and a nearly nonexistent pinkie toe.
Her toenails are weirdly long, as if she hasn’t clipped them in weeks.
This, too, niggles at Barb. What kind of woman doesn’t trim her toenails?
And it turns out she does have one tattoo, a bumblebee inked onto the top of the detached foot. It’s quite realistic and was done by an extremely talented artist; no harsh lines or fading at all. The fuzz on the body of the bee actually does look soft and furry.
Barb uploads the photo of the tattoo into Google Images, and it only takes a few seconds for the search engine to tell her “Your image didn’t match any results.
” She makes a note to stop by Ray’s studio later.
Killer Ink’s Instagram account has a large following, and their clientele travels in from all over the Northwest—if it’s not one of Ray’s artists, then someone at the studio might recognize the work of another artist.
She sends Alice another text:
Autopsy report?
Three dots appear on her screen as Alice types her reply.
Completed, but sealed until further notice.
A computer genius like you can find a way around that. I can always sweeten the pot a little if that motivates you.
Barb hits send, but it takes Alice a few moments to reply. Three dots appear, and then disappear, and then reappear again. What’s she doing, writing a novel?
Finally her response comes in:
It’s Saturday, Barb.
Barb grimaces. Considering how long it took Alice to type out three words, it probably stressed her out to say no. If Barb doesn’t back off, she’ll lose her contact at the police altogether.
Of course, no rush. Enjoy your weekend, my friend.
This time, Alice immediately puts a heart on the text, but there’s no further reply.
Barb looks through the autopsy photos one last time.
She doesn’t need the report to tell her that whatever happened to Jane Doe was no accident.
Somebody, somewhere, had intentionally choked this woman before she died.
And Barb has seen feet that have detached due to decomposition; that isn’t the case here.
The separation above the ankle joint is too even.
Barb would bet somebody hacked this foot off, probably with something heavy, in one mighty blow.
No person should leave the world like this. Even when they finally figure out who she is, how this woman died will be far more interesting to people than how she lived. That’s the real tragedy.
Twenty-five years after her death, nobody but Barb remembers what Lorelei’s favorite movie was (Dirty Dancing), or whether she preferred pizza or hamburgers (Whoppers all the way), or that time she stole a box of Nice’n Easy from the drugstore to dye her blond hair copper against her mother’s wishes, and it came out salmon pink.
Nobody remembers any of these little things that, when combined over time, make up a person, and a life.
Lorelei was more than just a serial killer’s victim.
She was a daughter, a dog-lover, a seamstress, a fighter, and a really great friend.
She didn’t deserve what happened to her.
And maybe, just maybe, if Kylie Kahl’s disappearance is solved and Jane Doe’s murderer is caught, it will somehow make up for the justice Lorelei never got.
And maybe, just maybe, Barb will finally be able to forgive herself for the terrible thing they did—the terrible thing they hid—all those years ago.
Maybe.