“She’s twenty-four but undernourished. She’s bulimic,” John, says, opening her mouth and pointing his finger to her back teeth, which are disintegrating, and some are missing. He holds her hand up and points to her fingernails. “She’s covered in self-inflicted wounds, and all evidence suggests she took a razor and sliced her wrist sideways, and when there wasn’t enough blood for her liking, probably due to old scar tissue, she went upwards.”
“Why not both wrists? Isn’t that usually a suicide’s MO?”
He tuts at me and walks around the table to lift her other arm, showing me the cut. “Would you be able to use this arm with a wound like that?” he asks with a cocky chin jerk.
“So no foul play?”
I have to know. He places her hand back down. “The cause of death is without doubt this injury. I’m having her stomach contents tested. Her bloods came back just before you arrived and they’re all clear.”
“She was submerged in water when they found her which would wash any evidence away if there was someone else there,” Donovan says.
“There’s no sign of a struggle, and from the report, no sign of anyone else being there.”
“What about sexually?”
“With her being in the water for quite some time, we couldn’t tell if she had been sexually assaulted due to water causing the soft tissue to swell, but there was no semen found inside her.”
“Could the bath water have washed that away?” I ask.
“Not always. When a male ejaculates the semen shoots upwards and clings to the vaginal wall. Traces can still be found some of the time within a twenty-four hour period.”
“But not all of the time?”
“Mr. Braxton, there are no signs of foul play. She was just a sick girl who didn’t get the help she needed.”
I don’t know how I feel. Relief that Ryan didn’t kill her and revert back to his nature, or pissed that I can’t arrest him and put him back where he belongs. I want to get Dr. Leighton’s thoughts about the death and try to Gauge if he is also suspicious.
“Thanks John,” Donovan tells him.
“You owe me, Donovan.”
I know Donovan pulled in a favor to get her autopsy done straight away, and I’m grateful. He’s become a good friend over the years. He was my superior a long time ago but now he works under me. The thing about Donovan is he is a good detective and that’s all that matters to him. He isn’t one for ego trips and he offered his friendship with no strings. That wasn’t something I thought I would ever have or need, but it’s not until you stop numbing the pain and hate that you realize how lonely you’ve been.
“Where now?”
“I want to go see Ryan’s shrink.”
I hate coming here, even though it’s separated from the main hospital/prison, it still has an air of hospital about it. I heard horror stories about a facility similar to this one of people going there to talk about headaches they had and then never coming out again. These places were pretty much left to their own devices at one time. Not much scares me but the thought of being locked up in here with all the crazy fucks and not being crazy myself does.
“It’s creepy as sin. Why did I have to come in?” Donovan moans and I feel the same way but I won’t let him see any weakness in me.
“Stop being a fucking pussy. You have your gun, right?” I joke. I made him lock his weapon in the car with my own.
We go through the usual security protocol and finally make it to the reception desk. I had to flash my badge to get me in this time, as I had no appointment. The receptionist is new and doesn’t bother looking up from a magazine she’s reading. I tap the desk and she holds a finger up to me, indicating for me to give her a minute. I look over to Donovan who slams his badge down on the desk on top of her magazine. She looks up and throws daggers with her eyes. Before anyone can speak, Dr. Leighton’s office door opens and a female exits. She’s wearing a Doctor’s coat. Her eyes come to rest on me and she smiles and walks over, offering her hand to shake.
“Hello, Detective Braxton. I’m Dr. Jenna Jarvis, I’m Dr. Leighton’s replacement.”
“Replacement?” I ask, confused.
“Dr. Leighton suffered a heart attack and unfortunately is no longer with us.”
“As in not with the hospital or the living?” Donovan asks.
I have to bite back a laugh and I don’t know why because it’s not really funny, but her face is a picture. Her eyes enlarge and she bites her lip and crosses her arms over her chest. “Oh, I’m sorry, I should have clarified. He’s dead, died, passed away.” She stumbles over her words and it’s amusing as hell to see someone in her profession be so unprofessional. She looks young, maybe late twenties. Then it hits me. Dr. Leighton is dead. I pull Donovan to the side and tell him to find out what he can about his death. He nods and leaves me with the Doctor.