Chapter 13 #3
And just like that… the feeling was gone, quickly replaced by the sickening rush of indigestion I’d become accustomed to whenever I thought about my hand on a cold, dead body.
“What? Why?” I said, my voice cracking.
“You know why.” He took my hand and led me back to the SUV.
“No. I can’t.”
“Max, it will speed this entire process up.”
“I said, no.” I pulled my hand from his grasp. “I don’t want to. I don’t ever want to touch another corpse.”
“Just this once, and I promise I’ll never ask you again.”
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Come on, Maggie, do it for all those girls who’ve lost their lives just because they look like you. Do it for the ones who never saw it coming. Do it for the ones that never had a chance.”
I sat for a moment. How dare he tug on my moral compass like that.
“Fine.” I sighed.
“That’s my girl!” he shouted, planting a kiss on my cheek as he zipped up his fly and quickly threw on his boots and the rest of his uniform. “Crowley will be waiting for us.”
“Wait, Crowley? He knows about me?”
“No. I just didn’t want to hide anything from him this time, so I told him we’d be stopping by and needed to examine the latest victim.”
“And he’s not suspicious about my being there?”
“Don’t think so.” He rose from tying his boot. “Though he might once you start touching the body. We’ll have to wait and find out.”
We’ll have to wait and find out?
What the hell kind of plan was that?
That’s right. It wasn’t one.
Graham wanted me to just march into that morgue and fondle the poor girl while Crowley watched on wondering if I got my jollies off on touching dead people.
I had been in this town a little while now, and did have a small reputation.
But the fact that that reputation involved touching dead people, ghost hunting, and becoming an amateur porn star…
pretty sure I was going to be on some kind of necrophiliac list by the time the year was over.
Graham
Maggie’s face was priceless when I told her Crowley would be accompanying us in with the body. I didn’t blame her. When I thought about the consequences of misleading him again, I figured this would be the safest route.
Crowley waited patiently inside the lobby at the coroner’s building, hands behind his back, wearing grey scrubs and a black rubber apron.
“Miss Maxwell, lovely to see you.” He extended a bare hand, which Maggie shook without second thought. “Mr. Locke tells me you’re curious about the resemblance of the girls and yourself?”
Maggie shot a look to me. I shrugged slightly. I had to say something to the man, something that wouldn’t get us committed.
“Y-yes. The photos on the news make me have doubts that I’m at risk.”
“Come along.” Crowley led us down the long hall and to the cold examination room. “This way,” he said, holding out his arm, directing us to the coolers.
He opened one of the square doors and pulled out a slab. “Amanda Hartley, here she is.” He pulled down the white sheet to expose her face.
Maggie gasped and clutched her moon necklace, the color draining from her face. “That’s so eerie.”
“Tell me about it,” I said, hating every time I got a call, knowing I’d see another face that looked like her. Knowing it wasn’t her, but fearing my gut was wrong.
She gently placed her hand on Amanda’s, and she sucked in a breath, her body stiff and unmoving. A premonition? She stayed still while Crowley watched in confusion.
“Miss Maxwell?”
Maggie stayed for a moment, her hand firmly grasping Amanda’s while she gathered whatever information she needed.
“Miss Maxwell, please, you mustn’t touch the bodies.”
She let go and just stood there staring straight forward, eyes wide. “Alright,” she breathed. “I’ll try to refrain.”
Crowley pushed Amanda back into the cooler, and we moved on to another victim.
“This is Kelly Porter,” he said, peeling back the cloth.
“The girl found at Linda’s,” I added.
Maggie’s eyes went even wider. Kelly looked the most like Maggie all the way down to the long honey hair and blue-chipped nail polish—even the freckles on her face were similar.
Then it was like something took over her, and she placed her hand on Kelly’s forehead.
“Poor thing,” she whispered before her body went rigid again.
Crowley gasped. “Really, Miss Maxwell! We cannot continue unless you can keep your hands to yourself… please.”
Maggie pulled back, this time right away, and Crowley moved on to another cooler.
“I’m sorry, it’s just so hard when they look so much like me,” she said, leaning over the body, inspecting the woman’s face and discreetly tucking her hand under the sheet so Crowley didn’t notice. “That could have been me. Still could.”
“I know it’s hard, dear, but Mr. Locke will keep you safe.”
Maggie’s gaze flicked to me with that look in her eye—she saw the killer.
“I think I’ve seen enough. I know I’m a possible target.” She stepped back. “Graham, can you take me home?” She brought her hand to her face and it almost looked like she was going to fucking cry.
“Yes, of course. Thank you, Dr. Crowley,” I said, placing my hand on the small of Maggie’s back and directing her out the examination doors.
As soon as they closed behind us, Maggie swung and backhanded me in the gut.
I grunted at the impact. “What the fuck was that for?”
Her jaw was set, eyes too bright. “You didn’t tell me I’d have to touch multiple corpses…”
“You didn’t.”
“You didn’t tell me Crowley didn’t know I was going to touch them.”