Save Her Soul (Detective Josie Quinn #9)(9)

Josie and Gretchen stepped forward to take a closer look. Josie’s breath caught in her throat, and her heart did a little flutter. Hummel took out his camera and started snapping photos.

Gretchen said, “Is she—is she mummified?”

“Yes,” Dr. Feist answered softly, surveying the body.

Josie’s gaze panned the tableau from top to bottom. She had expected skeletal remains given how deeply the body had been buried beneath the foundation of Mrs. Bassett’s house. While much of the skeleton was evident, its bones were held together by taut blackened vestiges of skin and sinew. Long brown hair tangled near the scalp, the skin slippage having kinked it to the side. Blackened bony fingers curled from the sleeves of a jacket, still intact, now brown and faded where it had once been blue and gold, showing the Denton East High School mascot—a blue jay—on its left breast, and the letters ‘D’ and ‘E’ embroidered on the right breast. Denim jeans clothed the legs and the shriveled feet were still encased in a pair of silver ballet flats. Both the jeans and the flats had turned brown from decomposition. A wave of sadness crashed over Josie.

Dr. Feist said, “Wrapped as thoroughly and tightly as she was in plastic immediately after death, then buried beneath a house, she wouldn’t have been exposed to oxygen. The conditions would not have allowed for insects and bacteria to use the body as a host. The normal decomp process would have been stunted.”

Gretchen stopped taking notes and pointed the cap of her pen to the jacket. “It looks like she might be a teenage girl.”

“Yes,” Josie breathed. “Looks like she went to the same high school as me.”

“Is there a year number?” Gretchen asked.

Hummel continued to take photos as Chan used gloved hands to probe the sleeves of the jacket. “Here’s a patch for state baseball champions for…” She brushed some dirt away from the patch. “The year was 2004.”

Josie felt as though something was crawling up her neck into her hair. She brushed a palm down over her scalp.

Gretchen looked at Josie. “Was that the year you graduated?”

“No, I graduated in 2005; 2004 would have been my junior year.”

Chan came over to Josie’s side and probed at that sleeve. “There’s a number here. Twenty-seven.”

The crawling sensation continued, working its way all over her skull. She clamped both hands over her head.

“Boss,” Gretchen said. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Josie said. “What else do you see, Chan?”

Chan leaned in. “It’s another patch. A baseball with flames behind it.”

Now Josie felt as though someone had poured cold water over her head. She tried not to flinch. She remembered the baseball state championship during her junior year. She’d been there when they won. Cheered them on. She remembered the blue and gold jackets the team received that year. Each jacket had the player’s number on one sleeve and the championship patch on the other. Only one player had had the patch with the flaming baseball. He had died in Josie’s arms five years ago during the missing girls’ case. It couldn’t be his jacket, could it? But how? How had it gotten there? And who was the girl who had been buried in it?

Dr. Feist said, “I’ll confirm her age range once I do a full autopsy. The first order of business will be to get these clothes off her and take some x-rays.”

Gretchen turned to Josie. “Did any girls you went to high school with go missing?”

“No,” Josie said. “And the missing girls’ case turned up all the girls who had been missing in the town—the county—going back decades.”

Gretchen frowned.

Josie felt lightheaded. “Can we—can we get back to the station? Maybe we can run down some information while Dr. Feist does the autopsy.”

Gretchen didn’t question her. She put her notebook and pen away and thanked Dr. Feist and Ramon. “Good idea, boss. We’ll talk to the owner of the house, and maybe we can get some yearbooks from Denton East.”

Hummel said, “Chan and I will stay and get the clothing and anything else relevant tagged and bagged.”

“Great,” Josie said. “Hummel, can you upload the photos of the clothing to the file as soon as possible?”

“You got it, boss.”





Four





Josie flinched at the pungent, earthy odor that lingered inside her vehicle as she climbed into the driver’s seat. She couldn’t wait to get home and take a hot shower even though it would be her second one before lunch time. Before she could turn the keys in the ignition, Gretchen placed a hand on her arm.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?”

Josie’s shoulders slumped. She looked at Gretchen and opened her mouth to speak and then closed it. Confusion clouded her mind. How could she explain the jacket? Was it the same one? It had to be. There was no other explanation. Her mind reached back to high school, sifting through memories.

“Boss,” Gretchen said. “You look like you saw a ghost.”

I did, she wanted to say, but the words wouldn’t come.

Gretchen said, “Start with the facts. With what you know.”

Josie gave Gretchen a pained smile. That made it easier. “You remember Ray? Well, I know you never met him, but you do remember who he is, right?”