Minutes to Kill (Scarlet Falls #2)(33)

Brody checked his watch. “I have to go. Please, if something freaks out the dog—or you—call me.”

“Thanks, Brody.”

“I’ll stop back tonight and let you know what I find out.”

“You don’t need to go to any trouble.”

“It’s no trouble. I’ll bring dinner.”

She walked him to the door. “I don’t need—”

“Stop. I didn’t say you needed me to bring you dinner, but I’d like to.” Brody put a finger under her chin and studied her face.

“Thank you.” Hannah’s pulse scurried. He wasn’t going to kiss her. Was he?

Before she could contemplate how she felt about that idea, he lowered his hand and backed away. “Get some rest, Hannah. You look tired.” He went out the door into the chilly morning air.

That’s it?

Hannah stared after him for a minute. Nudging the dog out of the way, she closed the door. “What do you think about Brody?”

AnnaBelle wagged her tail.

“You like everybody.” Hannah patted the dog’s golden head. “I have to admit, Brody’s different. Obviously, the man has never heard of flattery.”

But somehow, Brody’s concern had more of an effect on her than all the empty compliments she’d been given by other men trying to slip past her professional defenses and into her bed. He was honest. He didn’t just look at her; he saw her.

And she liked it. Most of the time.

“I don’t want to deal with this right now,” she said to the dog. “I have nothing to do today. I’m going back to bed. No barking.”

The dog wagged its tail but made no promises.

“Maybe if I get some sleep, Brody won’t tell me I look awful when he comes back tonight.” Hannah’s steps quickened. He was coming back.

“Don’t get excited,” she said to the dog. “Nothing is going to happen with him. I’m not staying in Scarlet Falls.”





Chapter Twelve

The medical examiner’s office was located in a concrete building in the county municipal complex. In the antechamber to the autopsy suite, Brody suited up in a gown, booties, and cap. He pulled the clear plastic shield over his face and went inside. The smell of disinfectant didn’t come close to masking the odor of a decomposing corpse.

Frank peeled off his gloves.

“You started early.” As much as Brody felt the need to attend the autopsies of his cases, he was relieved to have missed this one.

“I have a full plate today. But I didn’t want her to wait, in case . . .” Aw. Frank did have a heart. Nice to know. “So far nothing’s come back on the fingerprints. Too bad Chet doesn’t have a set for his daughter. That would have made it easy to rule her out. Waiting must be tough.” Frank paused. “Anyway, I’ll send the DNA in for analysis. The lab promised to expedite the testing. Results should be back in two to three days at the latest.”

“Did you compare her dental records?” Brody asked.

“I did. I can’t comment. Her teeth and jaw are too damaged, and some of her teeth are missing.” Frank shook his head. “I requested a consultation with the state police forensic odontologist.” The New York State Police made forensic dental specialists available through the Medicolegal Investigation Unit. “He’s at a conference and won’t be available until Thursday.”

“Blood type?”

“The corpse is O positive. So is Teresa Thatcher and about one-third of the general population.”

But it was one more factor that weighed in favor of the remains being Teresa. Damn it. Poor Chet.

Brody looked back at the body. An autopsy tech was sewing up the Y-incision with huge black stitches that railroad-tracked up the corpse’s abdomen. “What can you tell me? I’d like to clear this up for Chet faster than three days.”

Frank lifted the clear shield over his face, grabbed a paper towel from a wall dispenser, and mopped the sweat from his head. “The victim is female, Caucasian, approximately seventeen to twenty-five years old, brunette, brown eyes, five foot six inches tall, one hundred ten pounds. Internal organs show no evidence of drug or alcohol abuse, to be confirmed by toxicology reports.”

“Scars?”

“None. She wasn’t wearing any jewelry. Nothing in her pockets except the cigarette receipt we discussed at the scene. We found fibers in the wounds on her face and numerous hairs on her body and clothing,” Frank continued. “Facial trauma was inflicted both pre-and post-mortem, with fists and a blunt instrument, possibly a baseball bat. No tissue under her fingernails. She was raped, but we didn’t find any semen. So he likely used a condom. Cause of death was asphyxia by manual strangulation.”

Frank moved to the table and positioned both of his hands over the base of the victim’s bruise-ringed throat, just below her ruined face. Hovering two inches above the body, his thumbs lined up with two dark purple circles at the base of her neck. “The hyoid bone was fractured. The bruising pattern suggests she was strangled from the front.”

Frank stepped back. He moved to a nearby sink and turned on the water with a foot pedal. “This was a very violent death, but the greatest injuries to her face were inflicted post-mortem.”

“He beat her up, raped her, strangled her, then beat her again?”