Page 23 of Pursuit of Her

The Phoenix Ridge Medical Examiner's office occupied the basement level of the Municipal Center, its fluorescent lighting and sterile surfaces creating a stark contrast to the ornate architecture above. Eve's footsteps echoed as she made her way through the corridor, the smell of antiseptic and formaldehyde growing stronger with each step.

She had slept barely two hours before arriving at the precinct for her mandated meeting with Commissioner Brooks—a tense affair where she'd provided carefully curated information about the investigation, revealing nothing about her encounter with Reagan or the evidence now hidden in her apartment. The Commissioner's probing questions and Martinez's watchful gaze had only reinforced Reagan's warnings about who she could and couldn’t trust.

Now, away from their scrutiny, Eve pursued her own investigation.

Dr. Ingrid Westfield stood at a stainless-steel examination table, her black hair pulled back in a severe bun that emphasized her sharp cheekbones and penetrating dark eyes. At forty-six, she was Phoenix Ridge's most respected forensic pathologist, known for finding details others missed and for an unwavering commitment to scientific truth regardless of political pressure.

She looked up as Eve entered, her expression shifting from professional concentration to wary interest. "Captain Morgan, I didn't know we had a scheduled consultation."

"We don't," Eve acknowledged, closing the door behind her. "This is off-record."

Ingrid's posture straightened, her hands stilling over the case file she'd been reviewing. "Those words from a police captain rarely precede good news."

Eve approached the examination table, careful to maintain professional distance despite the unofficiality of her visit. "I need to see the original autopsy reports from a decade ago. The attempted homicide case involving Detective Reagan Shaw."

If Ingrid was surprised by the request, she masked it well. Only the slight narrowing of her eyes betrayed her interest. "That's an unusual request, considering the case was closed years ago with Detective Shaw presumed dead."

"The vigilante killings have raised…connections I need to verify," Eve said, offering enough truth to be convincing without revealing anything damning.

Ingrid studied her for a moment, her analytical mind visibly processing the implications. Then, without comment, she moved to her computer terminal and entered a series of password-protected commands. "The digital records would have been archived, but I keep physical copies of all my significant cases."

She disappeared into her private office, returning moments later with a sealed evidence box. "I performed the analysis on the blood evidence myself," Ingrid explained, breaking the seal. "There was enough blood at thescene to indicate fatal injuries, though no body was recovered."

Eve maintained her professional composure as Ingrid spread the reports across the examination table. Crime scene photographs from Phoenix Ridge Harbor showed blood stains on concrete, spatter analysis indicating two gunshot wounds.

"The official conclusion was that Detective Shaw was shot during an undercover operation," Ingrid continued, her voice taking on the clinical detachment necessary in her profession. "The blood evidence supported this, but there were…irregularities that troubled me."

"What kind of irregularities?" Eve prompted, studying a photograph of blood evidence she had seen a decade earlier—blood she had once believed signaled Reagan's final moments.

"The bullet casings recovered from the scene didn't match the weapon registered to the suspect Shaw was allegedly investigating." Ingrid pulled out a ballistics report, pointing to the highlighted discrepancy. "They were from a higher caliber weapon commonly used by specialized security contractors, not street-level criminals."

Eve's pulse quickened. "Was this discrepancy noted in the official case file?"

"It was included in my initial report." Ingrid's mouth tightened. "But when I reviewed the finalized case documents, that detail had been removed. When I inquired about the omission, I was informed that ballistics had 'revised' their findings."

"Who authorized that revision?"

"The order came through then-Captain Langston, but the signature authorizing the change belonged to Commissioner Brooks's predecessor."

Eve felt the pieces shifting, the pattern Reagan had tried to expose a decade ago coming into sharper focus. "Was there anything else that disappeared from your reports?"

Ingrid hesitated, her professional caution warring with scientific integrity. After a moment, she reached beneath the stack and withdrew a thin folder marked with her personal seal rather than departmental indicators.

"I keep private copies of my original findings when they differ from official records," she explained, her voice lowered despite the privacy of the morgue. "Call it professional paranoia or scientific integrity, but I've learned the value of unaltered documentation."

She opened the folder, revealing toxicology reports that had never appeared in the official case file. "Detective Shaw's blood contained traces of a sedative typically used in special operations. It's designed to immobilize without killing immediately, giving captors time for interrogation."

Eve's blood ran cold. This wasn't just evidence of assassination; it suggested something potentially worse—that Reagan had been captured before escaping or being left for dead.

"Who else has seen these reports?" Eve asked, struggling to maintain her professional detachment.

"No one." Ingrid's gaze was direct, unflinching. "After my inquiries about the ballistics were shut down, I recognized the pattern: official channels were being manipulated."

Eve studied the woman before her with new appreciation. Ingrid Westfield had preserved crucial evidence, knowing the risks but unwilling to compromise her scientific principles. "Why are you showing me this now?"

Ingrid gathered the reports with methodical precision, her expression thoughtful. "Because in the months before her disappearance, Detective Shaw consulted me about evidence inconsistencies in several sexual assault cases. She believed someone was systematically tampering with forensic findings." She met Eve's gaze directly. "Cases involving the same men who have recently been killed by your vigilante."

The confessional landed with force, but Eve did her best to conceal her reaction having her suspicions confirmed.

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