Page 17 of The Couple's Secret
A year after he was interviewed by the Brighton Springs Herald.
“I tracked down his personal cell phone number and left a message,” Gretchen added. “Nothing back yet.”
Josie took her cell phone from her back pocket and the tail of Noah’s shirt came loose, hanging down to the backs of her thighs. She’d ordered more shirts in her own size, but they wouldn’t arrive for a few more days. With an irritated sigh, she tucked it back in and then scrolled through her contacts until she found the number for Meredith Dorton, a young officer on the Brighton Springs PD. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before.”
The doors opened to a dimly lit hallway with cracked, yellowing floor tiles and white walls that were now a dull gray. They stepped out of the elevator as Josie placed the call. A few years back, she and Chief Chitwood had traveled to Brighton Springs while looking into the murder of his younger sister. Meredith had helped them find the case file. At that time, she’d been so determined to expose the corruption in the department that the brass had punished her by exiling her to a trailer in the back lot of their headquarters to digitize old files.
Meredith answered on the third ring. After exchanging pleasantries, Josie asked, “Are you still stuck in the annex?”
Meredith laughed. “No, believe it or not. We’ve got new leadership who are actually interested in doing things the right way. I’m inside the main building now. I’ve been promoted to Detective. Even have my own desk.”
“I’m glad to hear it. You certainly deserve it.”
“Thank you,” Meredith said with a smile in her voice. “What can I do for you?”
Josie told her. She wasn’t even finished speaking when she heard Meredith’s nimble fingers flying over a keyboard. “It looks like the case was reassigned to Detective Thomas Chaney after Fanning retired last year. Both of them are clean, by the way, in case you’re worried. Chaney is on vacation right now, but I can email you what we’ve got. You can touch base with Chaney when he gets back.”
“Great.” As they drew closer to the small suite of rooms that comprised the city morgue, the unpleasant smell of decomposition and stringent chemicals assaulted Josie’s senses. “Thanks, Meredith.”
Pushing inside the examination room, the odor only got worse. In the center of the room, two autopsy tables were illuminated by harsh mobile examination lights. On each one, skeletal remains had been arranged in anatomical order from head to toe. The bones were cleaner than they had been on the riverbank. Neither of their mandibles had been found. Some of the smaller bones of the wrists, hands and fingers were also missing. One body had fewer ankle and foot bones than the other—that had to be Cora’s.
Displayed side by side, Josie could see the clear difference in size between the male and female remains. The male skull was larger, its forehead sloped with a prominent brow ridge. The male femur was bigger as was the width of its condyles and epicondyles—or the bony protuberances at the ends. If you knew what to look for, the pelvic bones were reliable indicators of whether the remains were male or female. On females, the pelvic girdle was broader and rounder to allow for childbirth. The pubic arch was more U-shaped whereas in males, it formed more of a V.
“I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you two,” said Dr. Anya Feist as she stepped out of her adjoining office. She wore navy-blue scrubs. Her silver-blonde hair hung loose around her shoulders. A laptop was tucked beneath one arm.
Gretchen said, “You mean as opposed to jackass?”
Turner was strangely intrigued by their long-time medical examiner, though Josie was sure it was harmless.
Anya set the laptop on the stainless-steel countertop lining the back wall of the room and opened it. “Yes. I’m tired of the twenty questions every time he comes in. I feel like I’m being interviewed for something.”
“What did he want to know this time?” asked Josie.
“A food I’ve tried that I’d never eat again.”
Gretchen groaned. “Is this his idea of flirting, do you think?”
“Assuming he’s as inept at flirting as he is at everything else, then probably,” Josie said. “We’ll talk to him. Get him to back off.”
Anya waved a dismissive hand in the air before punching in the passcode for her laptop. “No need. I’m perfectly capable of telling him to piss off myself, and I have, but he’s still irritating.”
Gretchen laughed. “Welcome to our world.”
A set of dental X-rays popped up on Anya’s computer screen. With a heavy sigh, she got down to business. “I was able to get a partial match from the dental records of both subjects using the upper teeth. These are the remains of Tobias Lachlan and Cora Stevens.”
The three of them were silent for a long moment, letting the weight of the couple’s tragic end sink in.
“That’s what we expected,” said Josie. “What else can you tell us?”
Anya walked over toward the examination table that held Tobias Lachlan’s remains and pointed to the hole in the skull’s forehead that they’d seen on the riverbank. “This is consistent with a gunshot wound. As you can see, the bone looks punched out where the bullet entered. You can see the beveling where the projectile penetrated.”
Josie leaned forward and studied the inside of the entry wound where the forward motion of the bullet had penetrated through layers of bone, pushing the fragments inward. The hole on the outer surface of the skull was small and almost neat whereas on the inner surface, it was wider due to the force and impact of the projectile. It had made a funnel shape—narrow on the outside and wide on the inside.
“Beveling typically indicates whether we’re looking at an entrance or exit wound,” Anya continued. “This is obviously an entrance wound, but if that cone-shaped defect in the bone was reversed with the narrow part on the inside of the skull and the wider area on the outside, that would be an exit wound. Anyway, you can also see these sunburst fractures extending out from the area that the bullet penetrated. There is no exit wound.”
Gretchen took her glasses from the top of her head and slid them on, nudging Josie aside so she could get a better look. “Any way to guess the caliber?”
“I’m afraid not,” Anya replied.
