Page 50 of The Girl Who Was Taken

“It’s a long story, Kent. If we had a couple hours together in the van, I’d fill you in.”

“We don’t have that, so you can fill me in some other time,” he said.

“You’re on vacation next week?” Livia asked.

“Yeah. Heading up to Tinder Valley to fish for a few days.”

“I’ll see you when you get back?”

“For sure. You did good this week, Doc.”

* * *

After her Emerson Bay runs to track down Diana Wells and Nate Theros, Livia had spent the past two nights concentrated on Nancy Dee, the girl profiled in articles she found in Casey Delevan’s drawer. After two nights of researching the girl’s disappearance, the search to find her, the leads that came and went, the people who were questioned, and, six months after she had vanished, the grisly discovery of her body in a Virginia forest preserve, there wasn’t much Livia didn’t know about Nancy Dee.

After Nancy’s abduction from Sussex County, Virginia, in March of 2015, there was at first a group of the usual suspects that included her father and boyfriends. But the case quickly evaporated as everyone of interest provided solid alibis. An intensive search lasted for the first few weeks, and as Livia read Nancy’s story the words took her back to the previous year when the folks of Emerson Bay looked for Nicole and Megan. Their search, too, was frantic. Filled initially with hope that there would be a simple explanation to their disappearances, the hunt slowly fell under a cloud of dread as the days stacked up. When Megan McDonald miraculously resurfaced, wandering down Highway 57 two weeks after she disappeared, a joy filled the town and elation flooded the country, sweeping from east to west like a rolling tsunami. Details soon followed about Megan’s crafty escape from the dreaded bunker in the woodsand her resilient character during her captivity. It was all everyone wanted, and the fact that Nicole was still missing fell into the shadows of Megan’s celebrity.

There was nothing in particular that pushed Nancy Dee’s story into the background other than time. The public’s attention span was short, and there were plenty of other stories that came along to distract them. Until Nancy’s body turned up in a shallow grave near the Virginia border in Carroll County, most had forgotten about this poor girl. Then, for a short, final burst, Nancy regained the headlines before she was gone for good, remembered only by family and friends and fetish groups that got off on such horrors.

Livia gathered everything she had on Nancy Dee and dropped it all on the front seat of her car. Virginia, like North Carolina, had a statewide medical examiner system in place, which meant any suspicious deaths would be handled by the OCME, as opposed to the smaller, coroner-run local facilities scattered throughout the counties. Livia had placed a call the day before to Dr. Angela Hunt, the chief medical examiner of Virginia, to inquire about Nancy Dee. Dr. Hunt had agreed to meet with Livia if she could manage to get to Richmond by four p.m.

The ride from Raleigh to Richmond was two and a half hours, and a straight shot up I-85. Livia found the Madison Building and parked under two tall flagpoles where the American flag and Virginia state flag flapped in the afternoon breeze. It took a few minutes of introductions and displaying her medical examiner’s badge until Livia was finally ushered to Dr. Hunt’s office.

“Dr. Cutty?”

“Yes. Hi, Livia Cutty.”

“Angie Hunt.”

They shook hands and Dr. Hunt motioned for Livia to sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Taking her place behind the desk, Dr. Hunt asked, “What brings a Dr. Colt fellow up north?”

Livia smiled. “Not Dr. Colt. I’m on ride-alongs this week, and finished early so the timing just worked out. I wanted to ask you about that case from last year.”

“Right,” Dr. Hunt said, pulling a file from her bottom drawer. “Nancy Dee.”

“Correct.”

“I went back through it after you called. I’m happy to let you have a look. It was a sad case, but when I reviewed it I didn’t see anything that jumped out at me.”

“Just the same,” Livia said. “I’d like to see it. For my own personal reasons.”

Dr. Hunt smiled. “Whatever you need. You’re welcome to use my office. Let me know if you need anything or if I can answer any questions.”

“Thank you.”

When Dr. Hunt was gone, Livia pulled the file toward her. She opened the front cover of the manila folder to find photos of the scene where Nancy’s body was located. Livia had just witnessed hundreds of these photos being snapped by Kent and Sanj during the last week when they documented the bodies they were called to investigate and transport. Livia pulled the photos from the folder and laid them out in front of her. Depicted in them was Nancy Dee’s lifeless body, as it lay partially covered by leaves and dirt. Her eyes closed, skin pale with death and pocked with dirt, hair matted and caked down like a sculpture. Livia could not help but superimpose Nicole’s face onto the photos.The image caused her insides to ache and her stomach to sour.

A morning jogger, whose dog had taken off in front of him and raced through the woods apparently with a beat on the body’s odor, had discovered Nancy Dee. She had been missing for six months, and the identification came quickly when the body was transported to Dr. Hunt’s morgue.

Livia turned to the autopsy photos and perused the findings, cruising through the report like a speed-reader. She’d read hundreds of autopsy reports over the last four years, and had written plenty of her own in the first three months of fellowship. She expected to find this poor girl, abducted from the streets of Virginia and abused by a monster, to have died from some barbaric act of violence. Indeed, the autopsy revealed sexual abuse. But the photos Livia saw of the body were unremarkable. The external exam noted chafing and bruising to the ankles and wrists, likely from restraints, but otherwise there were no signs of physical abuse.

Livia paged through the autopsy report until she reached its conclusion. The cause of death made Livia’s mind stumble. She turned back to the toxicology report and read it again. Her finger streaked down the page and came to rest on the sedative discovered in Nancy Dee’s bloodstream. Because it was found in such high concentration, it was determined that Nancy’s body did not have the chance to fully metabolize it, meaning she died shortly after it was ingested. Such a large amount was consumed that this drug had seized her respiratory system and caused fatal respiratory arrest. Whoever held Nancy for six months, by accident or with intent, had OD’d her on a drug called ketamine. Livia looked atthe name of the drug for several seconds, drawing on her recently polished knowledge of pharmacology from her binge studying after her debacle with the elderly fall victim in the cage. Ketamine was used mostly by veterinarians for sedation before surgery, but had a limited role in traditional medicine. Called Special K by kids, it was also occasionally abused for its hallucinogenic effects. When combined with diazepam, as it was with Nancy Dee, the sedative effects were intensified.

Livia looked up at the ceiling of Dr. Hunt’s office. Something else about the drug gnawed at her. She put her finger on the page and ran her nail under each letter.K-E-T-A-M-I-N-E.

When it came to her, it came quickly and with little doubt. She hastily reassembled the chart and pushed it across the desk. She tried briefly to find Dr. Hunt, but gave up after a few minutes of wandering the halls. Outside, she climbed into her car and let her phone’s GPS take her to the nearest bookstore. She walked into the Barnes & Noble and, surrounded by the latest titles from popular authors, walked to the nonfiction best sellers display and plucked Megan McDonald’s book from the shelf. Livia skimmed to the middle, where she thought she remembered reading it. It took a few minutes to find it, Megan’s first-person recollection of her time in the hospital after her escape from the bunker. Her memory of that night had been foggy, Megan wrote, and much of what was recorded about her trek along Highway 57 and her reception at the hospital was documented with the help of Mr. Steinman, the man who had found Megan barefoot and bleeding and who had carried her away in his car and brought her to safety.

Livia skimmed the pages, frantic to find a single word, until she found the passage she was looking for. Megan’s memory was altered that night, and she spent the first twelve hours of her hospital stay in a near-comatose state. Part of her trance was blamed on shock and dehydration. But mainly, the doctors determined, it was due to the large amount of sedative found in her system. A drug mostly used by veterinarians. A medication called ketamine.

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