12
Noelle had only picked at her burrito bowl during their fast dinner, and Max knew why.
Autopsies and Noelle were not a good pair. She’d admitted as much, and Evan had mentioned it in the past. And now, as they walked across the medical examiner’s parking lot, her strides grew slower with every step.
Sydney Beason’s autopsy had been scheduled to start ten minutes ago.
“You don’t have to be here,” Max repeated. “I got this.”
“I should be there.”
“With everything that needs to be done, I don’t think two of us need to attend the same autopsy.”
She gave a short nod, agreeing with that statement, but continued to move toward the door. Max pulled it open and spotted Evan striding toward them from inside the facility.
He lifted a hand in greeting, his eyes looking as tired as Max felt. “They’re not ready to start the Beason autopsy yet,” said Evan. “They’re running behind.”
Tension visibly eased from Noelle’s posture. “That’s okay,” she said.
Evan gave her an amused look. “You don’t have to be here. We can cover this.”
“That’s what I told her,” said Max. In the past Noelle had fainted and nearly hit the floor when she attended the autopsy of a child who had been found in a body of water. A deputy had caught her and kept her from cracking her skull—again. She’d avoided autopsies ever since.
Max suspected part of her avoidance was from the fear of hitting her head. She still struggled with some memory loss and pain due to a skull fracture she’d sustained when her husband was murdered.
“Dr. Peres is working in the back with the two sets of skeletal remains,” said Evan. “How about you meet with her? I haven’t had time to get an update.” He glanced at the time. “We can all go there until they start the Beason autopsy.”
“Sydney Beason,” Noelle added quietly.
Max understood her correction. Sydney Beason was no longer just a victim—she was a mom, a teacher, a woman who’d led a full life and had people who loved her and were now crushed at her loss.
Evan studied her. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Sydney Beason.”
Noelle nodded. “Let’s find Dr. Peres. And both of you need to stop looking at me like I’m about to melt.”
“Yes, ma’am,” replied Evan, earning a fierce glare.
Max wisely kept his mouth shut as the three of them headed down a bleak hallway.
“Blech,” said Noelle as they walked. “That smell. Bleach. Pine-Sol. Meat locker. And something rotting.”
Max nearly repeated that she should do something else, but he respected that she kept pushing to succeed. He knew she was frustrated that her brain was determined to attend an autopsy, but her body betrayed her.
“Anything else turn up on video from around the neighborhood?” Max asked Evan, trying to distract Noelle.
Soon after Noelle had texted Evan a description of Sydney’s roommate’s car, the team had found it on camera.
With stolen plates from Chico, California.
Which made them wonder if the car had been stolen too.
“We’ve got views of Sydney driving down her street, away from her home, around four p.m. last Wednesday. If Belle was in the car, we can’t see her. The roommate, Elise, drives right behind her in the white Toyota Corolla.”
“Neither woman returned after that Wednesday?” asked Noelle.
“It doesn’t appear so, but we’re still looking.”
“Sydney leaves with Elise right behind her, and both women aren’t seen returning,” mused Noelle. “Can you enter the neighborhood on foot? What about the green spaces in the back of the townhome development?”
“I suspect it can be done. There are several trails back there,” said Evan.
“We’re still pulling footage and trying neighbors we couldn’t previously contact.
There might be more footage we’re not aware of yet.
There are two streets that enter the neighborhood, and views of both streets are caught on various security cameras.
We’re running plates of every vehicle that goes by .
. . well, the ones we can make out. There’s been a few where we can’t get a good image.
But I’m glad it worked to track down the boyfriend and roommate. ”
“Not so much the roommate,” said Max. “The stolen plates are a wrench in that lead.”
“It can’t be a coincidence that Hayden said Elise was from California and the plates turned out to be stolen from a vehicle in Chico,” said Noelle. “She might have been living there before coming up here.”
Evan nodded. “I’m still hoping she turns up at the town house.
That perhaps she’s been out of town. But if she’s not back by morning, I’ll have someone dig deeper into the Chico theft.
The owner of the plates isn’t certain when they were stolen.
They’d been replaced with another set, so it took him a while to notice. ”
“I like to think I’d notice if my plates had been swapped,” said Max.
“Oh yeah?” asked Noelle, arching a brow. “Do you have your license plate number memorized?”
Max thought. “I know there’s an H and a two, but if you showed me it, I’d recognize it.”
Evan rattled off his plate number, and Max gave him a sour look.
“None of the drivers we’ve tracked from the neighborhood’s plates have immediately raised flags,” said Evan.
“What about delivery drivers?” asked Noelle.
“Several trucks on camera. We’re getting a list of names of who was driving the routes for each one,” said Evan. He stopped outside an open door and gestured Noelle ahead of him. Max followed.
In the room, the forensic anthropologist was working with two assistants. She had four large tables set up and was laying out the skeletal remains on two of them with their corresponding bins of bones and debris on the other two. Dr. Peres glanced up as the three of them entered.
“Don’t touch anything,” she said in greeting. But despite her sharp words, her eyes were animated. Max imagined this was the sort of case that the doctor liked to dig into. Literally.
One of the assistants was writing on each bone with a pencil, labeling it with the case number. As she removed each one from the bin, she gently brushed off any remaining dirt into a canister.
Even the last grain of dirt will be examined.
The three of them approached the table where Dr. Peres was methodically laying out ribs.
Most of them look identical to me.
“Any news for us, Doctor?” Evan asked.
“Were you able to get a serial number off the gun I found?” Dr. Peres asked in return.
“It’s at the lab,” said Noelle. “We should have an answer soon.”
“Here’s why I’m interested in the gun.” Dr. Peres lifted the skull on her table and turned it, showing the investigators a jagged hole that had no business being there. “Possible cause of death.”
“Clearly,” murmured Noelle. “Sydney Beason, the victim being autopsied tonight, appears to have been shot in the head too.”
“Make that three of them shot.” The doctor indicated the other set of remains.
“But clearly the weapon I found under my set of remains wasn’t used on the recent victims. It’s been there the entire time.
The dirt around it was the exact same as the remains.
There was no change, as I would expect if the gun had been buried later. ”
He’s a shooter.
It’s a cold person who can shoot multiple women in the head.
Max turned to Evan and Noelle. “We’ve got a serial killer who likes to shoot.”
“And a missing little girl,” said Noelle. “We need to have a task force meeting. Tonight.”
Both men nodded.
The sheriff’s department was still in the process of organizing the task force.
The FBI and city police departments were all actively involved, but they needed to get together and share information.
So far, bits and pieces were rolling in.
The neighborhood videos. Evidence from Sydney’s house.
Evidence from the burial site. Backgrounds of the people close to her.
It all needed to be analyzed to point them in the next direction.
“This woman was in her twenties,” said Dr. Peres, ignoring their quiet conversation and turning the skull to look at the face as if she were making eye contact. “Petite. Decent dentistry. An old, healed break in her right fibula. Hyoid intact.”
“Do you have either of the bullets?” asked Max.
“We have both. Here’s one of them,” said the assistant as she handed him a baggie, and he studied it closely.
“Small,” said Max.
“That’s probably why we still have them,” said Dr. Peres. “Didn’t have enough power to go all the way through the skull.”
He was no bullet expert, but he knew the FBI had several. And they’d examine these along with the gun found in the grave.
“Any idea how long they’ve been in the ground?” asked Noelle.
The doctor sighed. “Always the toughest question. Skeletonization can take anywhere from a year to five years depending on how deep the grave is, the moisture level, and the temperature. On these, there’s no connective tissue left and the bones have discolored a bit—most likely picking up color from the dirt—so I’d lean toward the five-year time period, if not longer.
The clothes have decayed into almost nothing, which also takes quite a bit of time, depending on what they’re made of.
We have the shoes for both, so if we can figure out when those particular models were sold, we could get a possible date range.
Buttons and part of a belt and buckle, which might help too.
I’ve bagged earrings found with both, and I’ll have dental films soon.
The most likely way to determine how long she’s been in the ground is to figure out how long she’s been missing. ”
“So we need to identify her first,” said Max.
“Hopefully dental records or possibly the jewelry will help,” said the doctor.
“May I look at the jewelry?” asked Noelle. “I’d like to see the shoes too.”
“She knows shoes,” said Evan, earning an eye roll from Noelle.
“Over here,” said the assistant, leading them to another table.
“Find anything else unusual with the remains?” asked Max.
“A house key and a lighter with the other one.” The doctor nodded at the other table of bones.
“The women are comparable in age,” she said.
“About the same height too. The other one didn’t have as good of dental care.
It appears she needed some work done on her teeth.
The odontologist will be more specific after she does an exam. ”
“Would that be Dr. Harper?” Noelle asked as she held up to the light a baggie that appeared to hold several earrings.
“Yes,” said Dr. Peres. “Lacey Harper.”
“She’s good,” Noelle told Max. She looked at Dr. Peres.
“I can’t tell you anything about the jewelry except that it’s cheaply made.
And judging by the number of earrings, she had a lot of piercings.
” She brought the bag over to Max. “See that curly-looking one? That’s a nose ring. You twist it into place.”
His nose twitched. “Lots of piercings. Could be helpful for identification,” he noted.
“There’s a little slightly curved barbell too.” Noelle peered at the bag. “Maybe for an eyebrow? Or could have been most anywhere.”
Max blinked.
Oh . . .
Noelle looked at the assistant. “Where was it found in relation to the remains?”
The assistant consulted her paperwork. “Near the skull.”
“Likely eyebrow,” she mused. “Could be ear, but I think those barbells are mostly straight.”
Max scratched his neck. “Did you look at the shoes?”
“Not yet.” Noelle went to the other table, where the assistant dug out two larger plastic bags. “Nike running shoes.” Noelle shrugged. “Doesn’t get more common than that. But the color and style should be easy enough to get a date range of when they were sold.”
“We found a snap and zipper from jeans,” said the assistant. “The brand has been around for decades, but maybe we can get a time period with the snap.”
Evan’s phone vibrated with a text. “They’re starting Sydney’s autopsy.”
Indecision filled Noelle’s face. “I should attend,” she said.
“Evan and I will stand ready to grab you,” said Max. “Leave if you need to.”
“I made it through part of one a few months ago,” she said.
“Then you’ll probably make it longer this time,” said Max.
She didn’t look convinced.