Fatal Mercy Dan Padavona (reading cloud ebooks .txt) 📖

and Lambert finish with Tillery. Can you sit in while he goes over the autopsy findings?”

“Sure.”

“Then get over there. Virgil gets impatient when we keep him waiting.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Wednesday, July 15th

1:20 p.m.

 

A car accident at the edge of the village slowed Thomas from reaching the medical examiner’s building. One hundred yards up Route 15, ambulance lights revolved as a train of cars waited for traffic to clear. The phone rang and switched over to the cruiser’s speakers.

“Thomas?”

His chest tightened upon hearing his mother’s voice. She’d refused to return his calls for months and wouldn’t have phoned him unless something happened to his father.

“What’s wrong? Is—”

“Nothing has changed with your father.”

He released a breath.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. He pictured his mother pacing the kitchen with the phone pressed to her ear, searching for the right words.

“Your father and I had a long talk after your visit.”

“And?”

“And we’d like you to come for dinner again.”

“I appreciate the invitation. But I’m not giving up my career to run Shepherd Systems no matter how much you argue.”

“If we spend a few hours together, I’m certain we can formulate a solution. Let’s speak as adults.”

An emergency worker in reflective yellow and orange waved traffic through. The glut finally cleared.

“I’d like that, Mother. But I’m driving now.”

“There’s a Thursday evening mass at St Mary’s tomorrow. It will mean a lot if you accompany me to mass.”

“I didn’t realize they had mass on weeknights.”

For that matter, he didn’t know his mother went to church. Jogging his memory, he recalled fidgeting in the pew under his mother’s severe eyes when he was in preschool. Attending church was a rarity in those days, and they stopped going a few years after.

“What time? I have dinner plans at five o’clock.”

“Seven-thirty. You’ll meet me at the steps, Thomas.”

Once Lindsey Shepherd decided, there was no arguing the matter.

“I’ll see you then.”

The Nightshade County Medical Examiner’s office was a three-story, red brick edifice with glass frontage reflecting a dozen doppelgangers of the sun. Autopsies took place on the first floor at the end of a long corridor lit by florescent strip lighting. Thomas peered at Cecilia Bond’s corpse as Virgil Harbough stood on tiptoe and directed the spotlight over the dead woman.

“Almost forgot,” Virgil said, reaching inside his lab coat. He removed a jar of Vick’s and held it out for Thomas. “This well help.”

“None for me.”

Thomas fought the nausea rolling through his stomach. When he first attended an autopsy in Los Angeles, he placed Vick’s under his nose to mask the death scents. While his colleagues refused to enter an autopsy room without Vick’s, Thomas discovered it opened his sinuses too wide, amplifying the stench.

“You sure? The smell puts people off.”

“I’m fine.”

Virgil let out a sigh and set the jar on a metal cart.

“This one hits where it hurts. I’ve seen Cecilia Bond around town. Such a kind woman.”

“So you knew her.”

“Yes.”

“How did Mrs. Bond die? We found her face-down in the river and fully clothed, so it didn’t look like a rape. The sheriff believes she fell in and drowned.”

Virgil glanced at Thomas through the tops of his eyes and shook his head.

“Cecilia Bond did not drown. When someone drowns, we expect to find froth in the trachea and bronchial tubes. The lungs hyper-expand. And if the victim panics and opens her mouth, there’s a good chance her stomach will contain water.”

“And that’s not present with Cecilia Bond’s body?”

“Not at all.”

“Then what killed her?”

Gesturing at the bruising on Cecilia Bond’s temple, Virgil said, “She has a nasty contusion. It’s conceivable she fell into the river and smacked her head against the rocks. Then the current dragged her downstream. She would have been dead before the water pulled her under.”

“That doesn’t explain the contusion behind her head.”

“Not unless she tumbled and hit her head twice.”

“So you believe someone attacked Cecilia and tossed her into the river, making it look like a drowning.”

“No, I’m not saying that. Cecilia Bond was a very sick woman. In her condition, her balance would be compromised. She could have fainted.”

“How do you know she was sick?”

“I found lesions on her kidneys. My guess? Diabetic nephropathy.”

“That might indicate advanced kidney disease.”

“Very good, Deputy Shepherd,” Virgil said with a wink. “Our Cecilia wouldn’t have lived much longer. Even if she found a donor, it would have been an uphill battle to reverse her deterioration.”

Diabetic nephropathy and COPD. Cecilia Bond and Lincoln Ramsey were on their proverbial death beds.

“She’s covered in scratches,” said Thomas, directing the spotlight. Several thin, shallow cuts marred her arms and face.

“It could have happened after the water dragged her under.”

“Doubtful. The scratches aren’t coincident with bruising, and those river rocks would do a lot more than take a thin slice of surface tissue.”

“What are you saying?”

“She ran from someone. These are the marks she’d pick up fleeing through the woods. The river trail runs through the forest about a half-mile from where we found the body, correct?”

“Yes, and it empties onto a second river trail after a five-minute walk.”

Thomas bent over and examined the dead woman’s hand.

“The nail on her right index finger snapped off.”

“I scraped underneath. If someone attacked Cecilia Bond, and she broke a nail fighting him off, the lab should find DNA.”

Thomas stood back and shifted his jaw.

“Virgil, did you find anything interesting when you autopsied Lincoln Ramsey?”

The medical examiner scrunched his face.

“Lincoln Ramsey didn’t require an autopsy.”

“Why?”

“His death wasn’t suspicious, young man. He’d been sick for a long time. I’m amazed Lincoln Ramsey lived to see summer.”

“Has Ramsey’s body gone to the funeral home yet?”

“Well, no. He leaves Friday, and the funeral is Saturday morning.”

“You need to autopsy Lincoln Ramsey.”

“Until your department tells me Ramsey’s death requires an autopsy, my hands are tied. I plan to send the body to the funeral home on schedule.”

Thomas moved his eyes over Cecilia Bond’s swollen body. If he didn’t convince Gray to change the report, they’d lose their only chance to prove