Deadfall (15 page)

“That would be about right for our barge guys then,” Chris said. “Only thing is, they were wearing clothes.”

“I've seen these rivers and ocean currents strip the best of them, so I'm not too concerned with the nudity.” Kristen rummaged through her case, pulling out a giant syringe and a small plastic cup. She removed the white plastic lid from the clear cup and set the cup in the sand. “I'm just thankful this one was lost below the dam. If he was upriver and went through the turbines, the body would be fish food by now.”

“You have such a way with words.” Kevin grimaced and shook his head.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” Kristen winked at Mac, then turned serious again as she plunged the syringe into the victim's abdomen.

Chris stepped back, turning a shade of green. “What are you doing now?”

“I need a little urine from the bladder to see if this dude was smoking any herb superb or taking any other drugs we can detect.” She filled the giant syringe, emptied its contents into the plastic container, and sealed the lid.

“Can you check for the presence of alcohol in the urine too?” Chris asked.

“Not in this state. His blood and urine will be far too degraded. Remember that fermenting I was talking about earlier?” Kristen asked.

“Fermenting.” Chris bit into his lower lip.

“Well, I meant that in the literal sense. The body ferments just like grapes in wine, which will affect the blood-alcohol content readings. This guy is so degraded, I bet he comes back a three-point-five—four times the legal driving limit—without ever taking a sip of beer. That test is out of the question, but I can have the crime lab test for amphetamines, cocaine, and cannabis for THC content.”

“Marijuana.” Chris nodded.

“You got it. I prefer calling it the herb superb.” Kristen chuckled. “It rolls off the tongue.” She placed the container of urine in her case after sealing it with evidence tape and wrapping a small cardboard box around it.

“Okay, ready for the fun part?” Kristen clasped her hands together and raised up on her toes, rocking back and forth. “Let's get him bagged and tagged.”

“How do you want to do this?” Mac grabbed the black body bag from the gurney.

“Let's unzip it and lay it out next to our friend here.” Kristen snagged the other end of the bag and pulled it apart. She and Mac waved the bag until it was reasonably flat, laying it next to the corpse. “Unzip the top of the bag all the way, Mac.” Kristen walked around to the torso of the body. “Okay, let's do this on the first try if we can. Mac, since you're the strongest, take the midsection.”

Kevin rolled his eyes at this comment as Mac swaggered over to the body like an overdeveloped bodybuilder. “You have no idea what you just did to my ego,” Kevin pouted.

“Sorry, Kevin. I was just trying to butter him up because of the handhold I'm making him take.” Mac grimaced as he looked down at his section of the work. “Chris, you take the legs, and Kevin, take the shoulders. Roll him to me, and I'll make sure the bag stays open. Try to step on part of the body bag when we roll him or it'll just keep sliding up the beach.”

“You want to roll him all the way over or just back on his face?” Mac asked.

“Just onto his face and stomach. We'll put him right side up when we get him back to the office. Everyone ready?” Kristen asked.

The three men nodded.

“Okay, on three. One, two, three.”

The men pushed the body over into the bag with a grunt. Mac's hand sank into the victim's midsection. The move almost made his stomach give up its last meal.

“Good job.” Kristen zipped the body bag around the victim, while Kevin pulled the steel gurney over to the body and collapsed the legs. They easily slid the bag and its cargo aboard the now-flattened stretcher. Kristen zipped a second, rubberized external bag around the body and clasped the belts around the feet, midsection, and chest. They extended the legs again, and Kristen locked them into place.

“That's about it for here.” Kristen pulled off her rubber gloves with a snap, then removed the cotton glove from her right hand and extended it to Chris. “Very nice to meet you, Chris. Thanks for the business.”

Chris offered a wide grin, holding her hand a little longer than necessary. “I'll have to remember that double-glove trick. Your hands are pretty warm.”

“Ah yes, the miracles of the medical field,” she said with a laugh. “All right, cool. Let's get out of here.”

Mac and Kevin carried the gurney with the body up to the parking area, then helped Kristen load the gurney in the back of her truck. The wildlife trooper started the jet sled, giving them a final wave as he eased the boat off the bank. Once clear, he started upriver to his truck and trailer.

“You guys want to head back to the office and wrap this up today?” Kristen asked. “If this guy's our deck hand, we should be able to get the body taken care of pretty quick, while we're already messy.”

Kevin looked to Mac, who nodded and shrugged his shoulders.

“I'm game.” He made a mental note to call Linda to let her know he'd be late.

“Okay,” Kevin said. “Let's put this one to bed today. We'll meet you there, Doc.”

“It's a date.” Kristen winked at Mac and put on a set of headphones, then started her truck and rolled along the river road, moving her head to the wild rhythm of the music.

“You up for an autopsy?” Mac asked Dana after thanking her and retrieving their crime scene log from her.

“Love to, but I have to get back on patrol. Catch you later.”

After saying goodbye to Dana, Kevin and Mac settled back in their car. Kevin had his hand on the heater knob before Mac even got the car started. “Cold?” Mac grinned.

“The old blood doesn't flow like it used to.” Kevin turned the heater fan to full blast. “I better call Sarge and let him know we may run into a little overtime with the post. You up for a voluntary adjust, Mac?”

“Okay by me. Maybe we can both get Friday off if we put in enough hours on this.”

“Good thinking.” Kevin punched in the numbers to Sergeant Evans's mobile phone. Seconds later, Kevin had him on the line.

“Sarge, this is Bledsoe. Yeah, I can hear you.” Kevin cupped his hand over the mouthpiece and muttered to Mac, “I can hear him screaming without the phone. I hate that hands-free phone system he has in his car.”

Kevin resumed the conversation with his boss. “Say, Sarge, any problem with Mac and me adjusting our itinerary and hitting the post on this floater today? We've got him loaded up with the M.E. and want to put an ID on the guy.”

He hesitated then said, “Yeah, pretty sure that's our guy. Great, I'll send you a page when we're done. Should be off by six or seven.” Kevin flipped his phone shut.

“Sarge said no problem. He wants us to ID the guy if we can and get to the next of kin for the death notification. I think these bargemen were out of Washington State, so we can get WSP to do the notification.”

Mac nodded, though he'd overheard most of the conversation.

“Got time for a cup on the way?” Kevin asked as they reached the paved road again. “Doc Thorpe will take awhile getting prepped for the autopsy.”

“Sure. I could use some coffee after dealing with that body.”

“Don't I know it. I'd suggest we grab something to eat too, but maybe we'd better save that for later.”

Mac groaned. “Much later. I don't know how you can even think about eating.”

13

M
AC EASED THE CROWN VICTORIA into a parking slot on the east side of the old brick building where the Oregon State Police medical examiners perform their somber work.

Kevin tossed his sport coat in the backseat, checking his 35 mm camera for film. “You mind grabbing . . .” Kevin stopped midsentence when he saw Mac was already holding the evidence-collection kit. The partners walked quickly in the drizzle to the north side of the building, where the front of Kristen's truck was peeking around the corner, backed into the loading dock.

Kevin and Mac walked in through the back door, propped open by one of the staff members. Kevin set his camera on the wood shelf that supported an ancient-looking sign-in book for the facility. He logged them into the building, noting the time on his watch before signing the form.

Mac peered into the autopsy room, seeing that the body they had just recovered at the river was still on the gurney next to one of the two steel tables. On the other, a male physician was just finishing up an autopsy on an infant. Mac turned the other way, averting his eyes. He hated it when they autopsied children.

Mac tried to put the scene from his mind—tried not to think about the children he'd seen during his child-abuse detail. He stopped in front of a giant poster of the circulatory system, trying to look interested until his peripheral vision caught a glimpse of the tiny package being wheeled to the cooler.

“Afternoon, Kevin.” The doctor paused on his way out.

“Oh, hey, Drew. How have you been?”

“Same stuff, different day.” He motioned toward the cooler. “Got a bad one.” His Adam's apple shifted up and down.

“SIDS or stillborn?”

“Worse. Young mother never told her parents she was pregnant. Had the baby in the bathroom at her school and ended up leaving the infant in the toilet to die. The baby still had the umbilical cord attached when we found her.”

Kevin closed his eyes. “Children having children. I'm sorry.”

“Yeah. The worst thing is that the girl's parents are heartbroken. They would have taken the baby. Senseless.”

Kevin gripped the younger man's shoulder. “How's the girl doing?”

“She's okay. Up at Emmanuel giving detectives an earful. D.A. is probably going for murder.”

“That's an ugly one. Not your typical murderer, but there's no doubt she intended to let the child die.” Kevin put the camera strap over his head. “You assisting with the post on our drowning victim?”

“No, I've done three today already. Kristen is going to do the honors.” The doctor closed the cooler door after wheeling the infant inside to wait for a trip to the funeral home.

“What was her name?” Mac asked, his throat feeling thick.

“The mother?”

“No, the baby. Did she have a name? What are you going to put on the death certificate?”

“Jane Doe.” The doctor paused. “But I named her Alice. Every child should have a name.”

Mac swallowed hard, wishing he could shut down the compassion rising in his gut.

Kevin sighed. “At least the baby is safe and at home now.”

“Home?” Mac frowned in momentary confusion. “Oh, you mean in heaven.”

Kevin nodded.

“How do you know? That she's in heaven, I mean?”

“God is a father to the fatherless,” Kevin said. The line sounded familiar—from Scripture, no doubt.

Having gone to parochial school, Mac had fair knowledge of the Bible. “What about the argument that we're all born in sin and we need to ask forgiveness and be born again to get into heaven?”

Kevin folded his arms. “Do you remember reading the story in the Bible where Jesus gathers the children around him and says, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these'?”

Mac nodded. He hadn't meant to turn the situation into a theological debate. Maybe he needed clarification himself.

“Grace, Mac.” Kevin stepped into the autopsy room. “All of our questions can be summed up in one word:
grace.
God's grace is sufficient.”

Mac hoped that was the case. Truth was, he didn't know God well enough to make that kind of judgment.

Kristen came out of her office and walked down the narrow hallway toward them, wearing her customary rubber apron with white lace sewn around the chest piece. “You guys ready?” Not waiting for an answer, she went into the autopsy room, where her assistant, Henry, had already prepared the large stainless-steel table.

“Hey, Henry. I didn't see you come in,” Mac said.

“That's the way I like it.” Henry's wide grin split his wrinkled coffee-colored skin. “That way Doc Thorpe can't pile more work on me.”

“I can always find you, Henry. All I have to do is open a package of cookies from the vending machine, and you come running.”

“My one vice and the woman's found it.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. Henry had worked at the medical examiner's office for years; he was probably the oldest and longest-tenured employee they had. He stepped back from the table, examining the tools he had set out. Henry had proven to be an invaluable assistant to the doctors. He always seemed to know what they wanted before they asked for it.

Kristen slipped on her gloves and pulled her foot-activated tape recorder to the center of the room. “I'm going to start dictating now, so no burping or anything. I don't want anyone to think it's me.”

“I'll try not to, but no promises for Mac,” Kevin joked.

Kristen looked at Mac. “Okay, let's get started.” She stepped on the foot pedal. “This is Dr. Kristen Thorpe,Oregon State Medical Examiner, beginning an external examination on John Doe. Subject is approximately sixty-nine to seventy-four inches in height, with a postmortem weight of about two hundred and fifty pounds. Subject is a white male adult, nude upon examination.” Kristen released the foot pedal and walked up to the head, lifting the eyelids. She then stepped on the pedal and continued, “Eyes are blue, hair blond with nothing remarkable. Head, neck, and chest evidence signs of ligature contact, although nothing that would indicate a cause or manner of death.” Kristen touched and prodded the body as she gave her external exam. “Sternum, nothing remarkable. Abdomen, nothing remarkable. Hips, more ligature evidence from water exposure, nothing remarkable. Genitalia, nothing remarkable.” She smiled and looked up at her audience. “Isn't that every man's nightmare? To get the old ‘nothing remarkable' label?”