Scratchgravel Road (Josie Gray Mysteries #2)(9)
He grunted an acknowledgement and slammed the tailgate shut. He walked past the two of them and got into the backseat of Otto’s jeep. Josie smiled at Otto, who rolled his eyes and got into the driver’s seat.
“Blowflies don’t typically deposit eggs at night,” Cowan said.
Josie nodded, still smiling. “So, what are you saying? The time could be off by eight hours?”
“Blowflies are the best watch a dead man has.”
“Cowan, you have a unique way with words,” Otto said. He drove cautiously and pulled to a stop beside Josie’s jeep.
Cowan stepped out of the car without speaking and, wearing his brown dress loafers, trudged awkwardly through the sand. Once he reached the body, he set up a plastic tarp and his equipment. He then performed a cursory examination that included his own set of 35-millimeter photographs. He was able to turn the body over and Josie asked him to check the man’s pockets for identification. When he found none, she stepped back over to wait with Otto. After another twenty minutes Cowan turned to face Otto and Josie, who were standing in the narrow shade of a mesquite bush, waiting impatiently to get out of the heat.
Under the rolls of deep-set wrinkles running across his forehead, Cowan’s customary sad expression had turned grave. “Two things. First, cause of death was most likely blunt force trauma to the head. Bruising on the back of his skull indicates he was hit with a heavy object, and with considerable force. The injury wasn’t caused accidentally or by a fall.”
“But the injury could have caused death?” Josie asked.
“Certainly. I’m not ready to rule it as his cause of death, but I wouldn’t rule it out either,” Cowan said. “Second, I’ve never seen necrotizing fasciitis in person, but the lesions certainly fit the description.”
“What is it?” Otto asked.
“It’s a bacterial infection. Rare. It destroys skin, tissue, fat, and muscle. Regardless, the flesh is certainly dead, apparently eaten away by something.”
“Could the wounds have happened after the man died?” Josie asked.
“I’m guessing not, but we need to get him into the lab. This heat is doing a number on the body.”
“Wouldn’t the flesh be dying because the man laid out here for two days?” Otto asked.
Cowan frowned. “Not the same kind of dead. I’m fairly certain this man’s flesh was dead before his body was.”
Otto looked at Josie, then back at Cowan. “Could it be contagious?”
“Too early to speculate. I would recommend a hot shower and copious amounts of soap after we’re done here.” He gestured toward the hearse parked along the side of the road. “Now. How do you suggest we transport this body out of here?”
“We could fold down the seats in the back of my jeep. Would it be safe to bag him and drive him out to the hearse?” Josie asked.
Cowan pulled his glasses down his nose and looked wide-eyed at Josie. “You understand why we installed the plastic mats in the back of the hearse? There’s a fair chance that this body will leak fluids. This won’t be pretty. And the smell will most likely permeate your vehicle for some time to come.” He pulled his glasses off and stuffed them in his shirt pocket. “Have you ridden in the county hearse lately? Lysol can’t touch that smell.”
Josie glanced back at the body and grimaced. Not a good start to the work week, she thought.
Otto opened his phone. “Let me call Danny. We’ll get him to bring the county truck over. He can transport in the back of the pickup.”
Josie didn’t argue. Thirty minutes later, Danny Delgado, sanitation supervisor, also known as the Dump Man, drove the Arroyo County four-wheel-drive pickup truck through the desert like a pro. Weighed down with large rocks in the bed of the truck, he could maneuver through sand, mud, and water like a stunt driver. He backed up to the body without a question. Josie figured he’d transported worse, but she couldn’t imagine what that might be.
Otto had driven Cowan back out to the road where he retrieved disposable plastic jumpsuits, thick plastic gloves, and face masks from the hearse. He insisted each of them put the outfit on, including Danny, before they touched the body. Even with the heat, no one complained.
With considerable effort, and a fair amount of stomach distress, Josie, Otto, and Cowan bagged the corpse and loaded it onto the bed of the truck. As soon as the body was deposited, they stripped off the jumpsuits and stuffed them into a hazmat bag that Cowan said he would dispose of at the morgue. They were all sweat-soaked and Cowan passed around cold bottles of water, which they drained. Danny hopped into the pickup truck and hollered that he would meet Cowan at the morgue.
Cowan headed to the hearse. “I’ll call as soon as I know anything.” He pulled away with a parting toot of the horn.
Standing by the side of the road, Josie examined Otto, whose face was bright red. His uniform shirt was sweat-stained and his flyaway gray hair was a mess.
“I would just like to go home and sit on my front porch with the dog and drink a beer,” Josie said.
“I got a close second. A cool shower and clean clothes. Then we meet up again for an ice-cold Coke and a bologna sandwich from the Hot Tamale. My treat,” he said.
*
The phone on the bedside table rang and startled Cassidy out of a half-sleep. She looked around the hospital room, not sure what she should do. Hers was the only bed in the room and she’d seen only two people since she woke, both of them nurses. On the fourth ring Cassidy propped herself up on her elbow and closed her eyes at the flaming sunburn on her arm. Tears ran down her cheeks as she picked up the receiver and placed it gingerly against her ear.