Page 22 of Her Final Hours
“Anyway, their grandkids found the deceased male. It seems the body got caught up on rocks, just over there,” she said, turning and pointing toward the southern part of the property that backed onto the Bouquet River.
Alicia fell in step as they approached the area behind the farm. As they made their way toward the crime scene, it was hard not to be captivated by the sheer beauty and desolation intertwined in that remote corner of the county. It was a place of breathtaking landscapes and hidden dangers, where secrets were whispered among the trees, and the river carried solace and sorrow.
Daylight struggled to penetrate the snowfall, giving the surroundings an ethereal quality. The crunching sound of their footsteps was only broken by the occasional gust of wind.
The local coroner, Oscar Westborough, otherwise known as Ozzy, an eccentric individual known for his unorthodox methods, was already there, diligently documenting the scene. Decked out in a leather jacket, tight blue jeans, and Doc Martens, he had donned his usual in-ear headphones, which no doubt were obliterating his ears with Black Sabbath or some metal band. He looked up from a crouched position, his eyebrow raising as they approached. “Well, well, look at this: thethree amigos and my delicious game warden. Between the four of you, we should have this one in the bag by the end of the day,” he said with a chuckle. Noah smirked, expecting nothing less than Ozzy’s peculiar persona. He removed his earbuds, pocketing them as he rose.
“And I see they’re still calling you out.”
“Not much choice. The three other coroners have all but gone AWOL. I swear they should pay me more, but what can you do, small-town politics and whatever.”
“New tattoo, Ozzy?” Callie asked, gesturing to his exposed forearm.
“Oh, yeah, got this one last week. Not bad, huh?”
They looked at it, trying hard not to laugh—the words “No Regrets” were spelledNo Regerts.
“Yeah, I bet you have no regrets over that one,” McKenzie said, stifling a laugh.
Ozzy offered back a puzzled expression. Noah was quick to move things along.
“So, what can you tell us about the body?” Noah asked.
Ozzy adjusted his round spectacles on the bridge of his nose and motioned toward the deceased, who was still in the same position, washed up on the rocks. “Victim is male, late forties, knife wounds to the body, no wallet or ID. However, it’s a peculiar one.”
“How so? Looks clear to me,” McKenzie said. “Throat slashed. Multiple stab wounds.”
“Sure, the cause of death is obvious, but I’m saying he wasn’t murdered here.”
“How can you tell?”
“Rigor mortis in an unusual position with limbs raised, and a bloodstain on the face and neck that is defying gravity.”
“In English?” McKenzie barked.
“Rigor mortis assists us in estimating the time of death andwhether or not he was moved after death based on the body’s position. There is a lack of decomposition; he’s on his back with limbs raised in the air, indicating his body became rigid elsewhere. You see how his face is tilted to the right; the blood is to the left. Rigor mortis occurs after death in whatever position the body was in when it started to set in. In other words, it appears our victim was bundled into a bag after being murdered, probably to transport the body for disposal, then rigor mortis set in. The direction of the dried blood should have been toward the right side due to its position, but instead, it’s to the left. This means the dead body was in a different position to how it’s been found now.”
“But the river could have done that,” Callie said.
“The blood is dry. I mean not entirely dry, but it was there long enough that the river didn’t have a chance to wash it clean. The onset of rigor mortis varies based on temperature and conditions. It usually starts two to four hours after death, takes twelve to develop, persists for another twelve hours, and then takes about twelve hours more to pass. So, within thirty-six, it’s gone. I estimate that the deceased reached this spot within two to six hours after death, and death occurred about six to twelve hours ago. Look, I’m just the coroner; this is my preliminary analysis. Of course, I will be putting in for a full forensic report through the medical examiner — Dr. Adelaide Chambers.”
Noah got closer and dropped to a crouch. “So, you don’t think he was in the water long?”
“No.”
As he absorbed the information, his gaze drifted towards the bridge further up the river as a train rumbled by. The bridge was weathered and worn by the passage of time. It stood as a testament to the history and resilience of the region. As the train rumbled across the bridge, its haunting sound echoed through the stillness, momentarily punctuating the heavy atmosphere.
“Perhaps he entered the river over there.”
Callie took a few steps forward to follow his gaze. “What?”
“The bridge,” he replied.
Noah couldn’t help but wonder about the connection between this homicide and the mysterious girl found wandering the tracks. Breaking his train of thought, Noah turned to McKenzie and Callie. “Where exactly was Jane Doe found wandering on the tracks?”
McKenzie replied. “About eight minutes south of Westport, not too far from here. You think there is a connection to her?”
“Well, she was found with blood that wasn’t hers on her hands.”
