Page 22 of Cold, Cold Bones
A head in a plastic bag.
An eyeball in a box.
A woman who took care of her teeth.
I was pulling through the MCME gate when my id finally confided in my forebrain.
A head lacking parts.
A torso lacking parts.
What year was that? Where had those remains turned up? Was this case connected?
I hurried across the parking lot, already hitting a speed dial key on my phone. Was surprised at the quick pickup.
“Yo.” Slidell’s usual. Background noises suggested he was driving.
“I hope your day is going well.” To bait Skinny into some form of greeting. A hobby of mine. As expected, the ploy didn’t work.
“I’m kinda busy here. You got something to say?”
I told him about our visit to Leshner. When I’d finished, “So it’s back to square one.”
“Henry’s running the profile from here to Sheboygan.”
“Why Sheboygan?”
“It’s a manner of speech. I could have said Peoria.”
Slidell did that thing he does in his throat.
“Listen.” I changed tacks. “I’ve been thinking.”
“God help us.”
I ignored that. “Do you remember the severed ear that came in a few years back?”
I climbed the steps as Slidell flipped through his mental file cabinet.
“We tracked it to a corner boy who decided to go freelance,” he said at last. “The kid’s entrepreneurial ambitions dropped him low on certain popularity charts.”
“The body turned up later missing some organs.” I entered the building and waved to Mrs. Flowers.
“Bingo. Organs. This head thing’s a whole different puppy. First off, it was chucked into a privy behind a convent for preggies.”
“It’s not a convent.” I entered my office and hung my purse on the hall tree.
“Whatever. I’m chasing that down.”
“You’re on your way to MiraVia?”
“As we speak. Gotta focus on my driving.”
Dead air.
Asshole, I didn’t say.
I sat down at my desk, booted my computer, and ran a search. Quickly found the case I’d mentioned to Slidell. MCME 356-19. MCME 363-19.
