The smell of decomposition always got to Trish. These murders it seemed to be worse because of the absolute disregard for the body and the person it had once been. She surreptitiously covered her mouth and nose with her hand.
She glanced up at the medical examiner, who was still arranging pieces of the victim on the stainless steel. The man concentrated on painstakingly recreating the person this mash of humanity once had been.
“It’s a male,” the ME said offhandedly. “We’re missing skin on the fingers and the teeth, of course, so it’ll be harder to trace the identity, but the body is male.” He poked a jagged edge of thigh bone back into place when it crunched to the side. After, he looked up at Trish and Levi. “Ready?”
Trish didn’t answer, but Levi grunted. No. They weren’t ready. But they had to do this.
“Young. I’d say about fifteen? Fifteen to twenty if I had to give a range. Unlike the other bodies, I can tell you that this one was killed by having his throat slit. The wound is still visible on that piece of the body.” The ME waved a hand toward the top of the table. “Some of the dismemberment occurred anti-mortem, some post. I’ll give you a list of which is which. You can tell by how the blood coagulated. That’s not the important part right now.”
The ME, the same one that had arrived to take possession of the body, leaned down and lifted a large section of the torso. He pointed with a gloved hand to a pile of goo underneath. “Do you know what that is?”
Trish grimaced beneath her hand. “No.”
Levi swore.
The ME looked up at Levi with a grimace of his own. “Liver,” he said succinctly. “Half eaten.”
Trish closed her eyes, swaying slightly.
The ME continued. “There are cuts along the torso, directly above the liver, that indicate the murderer specifically went for the liver. I believe the victim was still alive when this occurred. But probably not for much longer after that.”
“Are any other organs missing?”
“Part of the pancreas. There’s no appendix either, but that could have been removed long before the victim was killed so I don’t believe that’s relevant.”
Trish couldn’t look anymore. As much as she wanted to speak for this victim, find his killer and throw the book at them, she just could not open her eyes. She didn’t want to find more of these mutilated bodies. She didn’t want there to be such evil in this world.
A warm hand tucked against her lower back, pulled her close to Levi’s side. She slowly relaxed against him, using him to stay upright. Sometimes the horror of what one human being could do to another was just too much to bear.
Levi moved a hand over her hip, making sure she leaned into him. She even felt the rumble of his voice as he asked the doctor questions.
“And the bite marks?”
“Human,” the ME responded. “Bits of flesh are ripped off in certain…areas of the body.”
Trish recoiled further. Levi’s warmth and protection flooded through her. Just right now she couldn’t handle this. Away from the body would be better, but not right now.
“We’ll search recent missing persons’ files,” Levi finally said. “And we’ll get your report this afternoon, maybe?”
“Tomorrow,” the ME corrected. “May I say something?”
For this, Trish opened her eyes, steeling herself for the morbid, crass remains lying so naked on the table. She met the ME’s troubled gaze. “Doctor?” She mustered some sort of professionalism. She’d never lost it before. Not even with the other two bodies. But this one? No, this couldn’t go on. This was too much.
“These crimes aren’t the work of a Satanist. I know your mayor wants them to be. And I know he wants this closed up neat and tidy. I just don’t think that’s going to happen.” He moved to the table behind him, stripping off one latex glove and grabbing a long pair of tweezers instead. He picked up a single jagged piece of paper and set it, writing side up, on the stainless steel table next to the body. “This was found in the jeans pocket. It’s torn, but I don’t think the murderer did that. I think the boy did. Another torn piece was found under the body, but it was blank.”
“What does this say?” Trish asked, frowning and leaning closer.
“I’ll send you a copy, but it’s part of a report card.”
“A report card?” Levi asked.
“I think it’s from the high school in the town nearest Magnolia.” The ME sighed. “I don’t think we’re looking for a stranger. And I don’t think this boy was a transient, even if the others were.” He looked from Trish to Levi, then back again. “Detective, you have a serial killer on your hands.”
*****
Trish almost stumbled from the room. But she managed to regain her composure on the way out, even murmuring that she had to use the ladies’ room. She didn’t run there, either. But once inside she hurried into the biggest stall and dry heaved into the toilet.
She slid down onto the floor and blotted her mouth with some toilet paper. She flushed and calmly tried to control her racing heart.
There’d never been a time where she’d had a reaction this strongly to a murder. But then…this wasn’t just a murder was it? Tears welled in her eyes. Someone was missing their kid tonight because she couldn’t stop some serial killer. To be torn open and eaten while you were still alive? Who did that?
She heard the door to the hall open.
“Trish?”
She closed her eyes for a brief moment. Fucking Levi. “Yes?” she called out. Immediately she cursed her voice for trembling.
The door shut and she heard his boots on the tile. “You okay?”
And there were the tears again. What was wrong with her? “I’m fine,” she said. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t make herself get up and go out there to face the world.
She saw Levi’s boots stop in front of the stall. Then his grossly, inappropriately big hands gripped either side of the metal, one on the door, the other on the makeshift wall, and pulled. The lock popped open and he shoved his way into the stall with her, then fiddled with the locking mechanism until it locked behind him.
She couldn’t find it within her to even care about him barging in.
He walked to her, then slid down the wall to sit next to her. His big legs stretched out in front of them and he took her hand gently.
All she wanted was to lean on him. So she did.
Her head hit his muscular upper arm and she flipped her palm over so they were holding hands.
“You okay?” he asked again, softly, his deep voice rumbling in her ear.
She shook her head against his shoulder.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Me either.”
“He was just a kid.” The tears threatened again, and she did nothing to stop them. She even let them drip off her nose onto his shirt. Sometimes, you just had to lose it. She was losing it. Big time. With a man she barely knew. A man she probably shouldn’t trust. But she couldn’t find it within herself to care about that right now.
“We’ll find out who that poor boy is,” Levi reassured her. “Then we’ll find out who did this to him.”
“Will we?” she mumbled.
“Hey.” He nudged her slightly so she’d sit up, but then he turned and cupped her cheek in his hand. “I’m here to help. And we’re going to fight. And we’re going to win.”
“We can beat that?” Trish asked with a head toss toward the room that had showed her its secrets. The room that had changed her life. The doubt she tried so hard to beat back was fresh in her heart, in her mind.
“We can beat anything.” He paused. “You can beat anything.”
She looked up into his beautiful features, those glorious eyes that swirled with emotion. Right now she didn’t feel like a cop. She felt like a frail human being. Levi was trying to build her up. She knew that. His voice vibrated with truth and strength. What he was doing was working.
“Are we having a moment on the floor of a public bathroom?” she asked him, her lips quirking slightly in a smile.
Levi stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Yeah, I think we are.”
All at once, Trish felt embarrassed and wrenched her head away. She hurriedly got to her feet, self conscious about her outburst, her no doubt bad breath, and her unprofessional actions. She smoothed a hand down her slacks and faced him, her cheeks flaming. The tears she’d cried were still hot on her face, but she didn’t wipe them away.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”
Slowly, Levi hefted himself to his feet, uncurling that long body from the floor. He ran a hand through his hair and faced her. “No apologies necessary.”
She cleared her throat. “No?”
He shook his head, that long hair falling back into his eyes, dancing with his lashes. “No,” he confirmed. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”
Trish refused to acknowledge the flutter in her stomach as he reached for her again. Instead she gathered her things and unlocked the door. “Yeah,” she murmured, then led the way out of the bathroom.
One day she’d apologize for breaking down on him.
Just not today.
*****
Sam whistled through his front teeth after Orrie finished his story. Running through the woods in a park as a dog was nothing new for Orrie. Running through the woods in a park as a dog being chased by bugs that didn’t exist naturally in nature? Yeah, that was new. New and not good.
“So you’ve never seen these things before?” Sam asked.
Orrie shook his head. “Never.” He leaned over and reached into the pocket of the jacket he’d shed. He pulled out a small vial and placed it on the table between himself and Sam.
Sam blinked. The vial contained an ugly bug. Winged and vicious, a stinger hanging an inch out of its ass. The thing was black, beady-eyed, and staring at him.
He picked the vial up and the bug went crazy. The wings buzzed and the eyes rolled. A high pitched keening plumed from the vial. “How long’s this thing been in here?” He asked, shaking the vial experimentally.
“Four days.”
Sam paused, his hand stopped shaking. “It getting any air?”
Orrie leaned back in his chair and folded his thick arms. “Nope.”
Sam looked back to the bug. Not quite a bee or a hornet, not quite a beetle, but still an insect and still ugly. He shook the vial again and the bug started to sting the glass, tiny sparks of black and red arcing in the vacuum. “How’s it still alive?”
Orrie shrugged. “I suggest we find someone to check it out.”
“Oh, you suggest?” Sam demanded. He eyed Orrie across the table. “You suggesting things now?”
“Maybe.”
Sam beat back the rage rising inside of him. “And who the fuck is supposed to look at this? And never say anything to anybody?” he growled.
“We’re not above bribery,” Orrie reminded him. “For the good of the human race.”
Sam sent the vial spinning across the table toward his friend. Orrie captured it before it could hit the floor. “What’s your gut instinct on that?” He pointed to the glass Orrie now held.
Orrie lifted the vial to eye level and gazed at the creature inside. The thing kept stinging, kept hissing, even after Orrie flicked the glass with his finger. “My gut? Olivier.” He glanced over at Sam. “I think Olivier has something to do with this.”
Sam bared his teeth and grumbled his irritation. For so many years Semi had stayed away, but now, he was back with a sidekick. Who knew where they’d been in the world? Who knew how many of these hybrid creatures were festering in the earth or in the trees or killing off other species? Olivier was strong. Always had been. The devil had clearly imparted more skill and more strength into the fallen angel.
“Find a scientist,” Sam muttered. “Find out what that thing is,” he ordered, pointing at the glass. “And get it the fuck out of my house right now.”