The Bones She Buried: A completely gripping, heart-stopping crime thriller(9)

On the far side of the room, Colette’s body lay covered, her brown-gray hair showing from the top of the sheet. A shiver ran through Josie. It was still so difficult to believe this was happening. Her heart ached for Noah. She had always envied him his normal upbringing and had felt grateful and a little jealous that he had had such a kind, loving mother.

“Didn’t expect to see you today,” Dr. Feist said when she saw Josie. Offering a sympathetic smile, she added, “Please give Noah my condolences.”

“You didn’t have to come,” Mettner added. “I just wanted to keep you up to date with what was happening.”

Josie jammed her hands into her jeans pockets. “Noah wanted me to come. The family wants to know what happened.”

Dr. Feist frowned, then reluctantly she held up a page from the file in front of her. “I don’t really know how to tell you this, but Mrs. Fraley was definitely murdered. Asphyxiated. She aspirated on the dirt when she breathed it in.”

Josie swallowed over the lump that had formed in her throat. “You mean she choked on it?”

Dr. Feist put the page onto the table and stepped toward Josie, regarding her with sympathy. “Josie, are you sure you want to hear this?”

“I have to,” Josie croaked.

Dr. Feist motioned toward Officer Mettner. “I’m sure Mett can handle it. He told me this is his first homicide, but everyone has to start somewhere. Maybe he can catch you up on the details later? After you’ve taken some time. We can release the body to the family tomorrow. Then perhaps after the funeral, if you still want to know the details, Officer Mettner can fill you in?”

Josie felt tears stinging the backs of her eyes as her gaze drifted back to Colette’s small, shrouded body. Josie didn’t want to know the intimate and gruesome details of her murder, but she owed it to Noah to continue. Mettner was a fine officer, and Josie had no doubt that one day, he’d be one of the best detectives Denton PD had ever had, but she couldn’t trust an investigation this personal to him alone. When Noah had taken enough time himself to process some of his shock and grief, he would need justice and closure. Josie knew this from her own experience of losing loved ones to violent crimes. She also knew how crucial the early stages of a homicide investigation were. She had to make sure that everything was done according to procedure; that no detail was left unexamined; and that Mettner explored absolutely every avenue of inquiry.

Josie blinked back the moisture in her eyes. “I’m fine. Please. Just tell me what you found.”

With a sigh, Dr. Feist continued, “I say ‘aspirate’ because there was particulate matter—small amounts of soil—in her lungs. She inhaled it. But to answer your question, yes, she choked on it. Her airway was completely blocked. There are small petechiae in the conjunctiva of her eyes.”

Mettner pulled out his phone, swiping until he pulled up his note-taking app. “Petechiae?” he echoed.

Josie said, “Petechial hemorrhages. They look like tiny, pinpoint red marks in the eyes and sometimes on the skin—sometimes only visible with a microscope and sometimes as large as a couple of millimeters. They occur when the body is deprived of oxygen. The tiny capillaries in the eyes leak or rupture from the pressure on the veins in the head.”

Dr. Feist nodded approvingly as Josie spoke. “Exactly. They are indicators of death by asphyxia. Sometimes by hanging or strangulation, but in this case it’s quite clear how she was asphyxiated.”

Mettner used one finger to tap the page that Dr. Feist had discarded. “There were some marks on her arms—bruising and lacerations—that we believe were defensive. No sign of sexual assault.”

Dr. Feist added, “Her brain showed—” she broke off, looking back toward Colette’s body and shifting from one foot to the other. Josie had never seen Dr. Feist look so uncomfortable. Josie guessed she wasn’t used to discussing the clinical aspects of her examinations with people so intimately connected to the victims.

“It’s okay. Noah and his sister suspected she had some form of dementia. Is that what you found?” Josie asked, urging her onwards.

Dr. Feist nodded. She waved Josie over to a corner of the room where a long, stainless steel counter jutted out from the wall. A microscope rested in the center with several glass slides beside it. Dr. Feist leaned over and studied the slides—all of which bore Colette’s name—before sliding one into the viewer. She took a quick look and then motioned for Josie to do the same.

To Josie, the small square in her vision looked like a child had scrawled on it with a fuchsia colored crayon. Uneven purple dots scattered across the slide, and in the center was a large, dark splotch, almost brown, with another, purple dot inside of it—this one much larger than the others. “What am I looking at?” she asked.

Dr. Feist said, “I took several samples from Mrs. Fraley’s brain. That one was taken from her hippocampus. It’s a pyramidal cell from the CA1 area of the hippocampus.”

Josie looked up. Behind them, Mettner said, “The hippocampus is responsible for memory.”

Dr. Feist said, “Basically, yes.”

Josie pointed to the microscope. “So this specimen is from Colette’s hippocampus.”

“Correct. The large, spherical mass you see in the center—”

“With the purple dot inside of it?” Josie asked.