Everything seemed so sterile, so impersonal, but it did nothing to erase the smell of decay. It brought me back to the here and now, to doing my best for my client no matter what was going on in my personal life.
I entered the room with the drain in the floor and found Matt, Toby, and a couple of other troopers standing around. Dr. Snider was scribbling notes on a clipboard, and his assistant was laying out an array of shiny metal instruments. The hum of the fluorescents created an undercurrent of discomfort, though I supposed nothing in the room was designed for anything other than utilitarian purposes.
Dr. Snider stopped writing and straightened up. "I assume you're with the defense attorney's office?"
I nodded and played along with the charade. "Yes. Caroline Montreat."
"Nice to meet you." Dr. Snider grinned a bit, clearly enjoying our cloak and dagger routine. "Well, looks like everyone is here. We can begin."
Toby waved me over. "Good to see you again. Maybe one day we can meet under circumstances that don't involve a dead body."
I did my best imitation of a smile despite the pit in my stomach. "That would be nice, actually."
"Where's Wash?" Matt asked.
"Had another appointment." I gave him a look over my shoulder. His nose was a mottled blue toward the top, and his eyes had dark half-moon slivers beneath them. Wash had clocked him good. Wash. I pushed the thought of him down, as far down as I could.
"Pussing out on the autopsy and sending the baby lawyer instead?" He sneered. "Figures."
"The last person I recall pussing out was you on the floor of the courthouse grabbing your nose and crying like a five-year-old," I snapped.
Toby whistled before holding his fist out. "Damn. Nice one, Caroline."
I bumped it and turned back toward Dr. Snider.
"Who the hell do you think-"
"If I could get quiet, please, then we'll begin." Dr. Snider's sharp tone cut off Matt's impending rant.
"Settle down, Matt," Toby said. "Doc, do your thing."
"Cindy." Dr. Snider motioned to his assistant to help him yank down the zipper on the body bag. "Let's get to work."
Chapter Nineteen
CAROLINE
The autopsy was, without a doubt, disgusting, but I found myself leaning closer for Dr. Snider's explanation of the wounds on Tyler's body-the carvings, the bloodletting. The mechanics of the murder were just like all the others, save one difference. Tyler had been hit on the back of the head with enough force to knock him out before he'd been killed.
Why would the killer have changed the pattern in those two ways-a man and knocking him out? Dr. Snider had no answers, and neither did the rest of us. But Dr. Snider was certain of one thing, it wasn't a copycat. This was done by the same killer. Rowan's case grew stronger by the second.
Matt left the autopsy early, saying he had an appointment he couldn't miss. Toby and I exchanged a look. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who noticed Matt was green around the gills.
It only took an hour to complete the examination. It didn't seem like enough time to calculate the loss of a human life, even one as deplorable as Tyler's. But I was glad it was over. Cindy wheeled the body to the adjoining room as Dr. Snider dictated his last few notes. He still wasn't sure about time of death, but he suspected the body was fresher than the month he initially thought.
I would have been burning up my phone texting Wash the good news, but it could wait. I didn't want to communicate with him. Not yet. I thought I'd just write a report and leave it on his desk on my way out. I'd resolved to go ahead and turn in my notice that afternoon anyway.
"I'll walk you out," Toby said.
"Sure." I suspected morgue duty wasn't Toby's favorite, either.
"Wash hasn't called?" he asked as we finally escaped the smell of rot and walked into the hospital proper. The presence of other, living people going about their day was a strange comfort.
I shrugged. "I don't know."
He stopped and touched my arm. "Trouble? I could tell something was bothering you, but I didn't want to talk about it in there."
I nodded. Toby was intuitive and there was no point lying to him. "Yeah. Let's just say I'll be looking for a job at five o'clock. Let me know if you hear of anyone hiring, would you?"
He crossed his arms over his chest, his perfectly ironed and starched shirt not creasing even a little. "Does Wash know about this?"
I dropped my eyes and told my tears to go fuck themselves.
"Well, shit. Has he gone and fucked something up? Do I need to get someone to write him a speeding ticket or go to his house and toss the place?"