Page 17 of Girl, Bound

‘I know it's not muchconsolation,’ Goodweather said, his voice taking on a note of ghoulish glee,‘but I do have some good news.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes indeed. I managedto ID this poor girl just before you got here. Kara Murphy, twenty-one yearsyoung. Local girl, had a minor run-in with the law a couple of years back.Nothing serious, but it was enough to get her prints in the system.’

Ella latched onto thatscrap of information like a drowning woman clutching at a life preserver. Itwasn't much, but it was a start. A name to put to the face, a small piece ofthe puzzle that might help them unravel the mystery of Kara's untimely demise.

Ripley said, ‘Can youtalk us through your findings, doctor?’

Goodweather circledthe table like a vulture eyeing a fresh carcass, gloved hands hovering overKara's body with a nearly reverent air. ‘

No obvious signs oftrauma, as you can see. No bruising, no lacerations, no ligature marks. Ourgirl here is as pristine as the day she was born. On the outside, at least.’

‘So, how’d she die?’Ella asked.

The coroner held up afinger, his lips curling into a smirk that made Ella's skin crawl. Dr.Goodweather looked like he'd been molded from wax and left out in the sun toolong.

‘Ah, but that's wherethings get interesting. Take a gander at this little beauty mark.’

Goodweather gentlylifted Kara's head and turned it to the side, exposing the back of her neck.There, contrasting against her pale skin, was a tiny red mark, no larger thanthe head of a pin.

Ella leaned in closer,squinting at the mark as if she could divine its secrets through sheer force ofwill. It was easy to miss, just a small puncture wound that could have beenmistaken for a freckle or a birthmark.

But now, it was clearwhat had happened to this woman.

‘Injection site,’ shemurmured, her mind already racing ahead to the implications. ‘Some kind ofsedative, maybe? Or a paralytic agent?’

Goodweather nodded,his smirk widening into a grin that was all teeth and no warmth. ‘Right youare, Agent Dark. We're still waiting on the toxicology report, but based on theway her nervous system just...shut down, I'd say we're looking at a particularlynasty neurotoxin. Something designed to immobilize the victim, render themcompletely helpless.’

Ripley leaned inbeside her. ‘So, what you're saying is, our killer wanted her awake and aware,but unable to fight back.’

Ella felt a chill rundown her spine, a sickening sense of dread coiling in the pit of her stomachlike a serpent ready to strike. This was a level of sadism that went beyond thegarden-variety psychopath, and it added depth to the psychological profile.Until now, she’d assumed that death was this killer’s endgame. But if he threwsadism into the mix, it could suggest there was a sexual element at play.

‘Is it enough to killon its own?’ she asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. ‘The toxin, I mean.Would it be lethal without any other factors in play?’

Goodweather shrugged,an apologetic expression taking center stage. ‘Hard to say without knowing theexact chemical composition. Some of these neurotoxins are designed toincapacitate, not to kill. But given a high enough dosage, the rightcombination of variables...well, let's just say that anything is possible.’

Ella ruminated on theidea, trying to piece together the incongruous details. She turned toGoodweather. ‘I’m no doctor, but surely there's no sedative in the world thatcould kill someone so quickly. Not with a haphazard jab to the neck like that.The toxin would need time to circulate through the bloodstream, to wreak itshavoc on the body.’

The coroner nodded.‘I'm inclined to agree with you there, Agent Dark. Unless our killer managed tohit a vein on the first try, the chances of instant death are slim to none.’

‘Which means theremust be another factor at play,’ Ella finished, the pieces clicking into placewith sickening clarity. ‘The body bags. They’re not just a middle finger. He'ssealing his victims inside, letting them suffocate slowly.’

It was a chillingrealization, a glimpse into the twisted mind of a killer who took pleasure inthe slow, agonizing death of his prey. Ella could almost picture it in hermind's eye, the frantic struggle for air, the mounting panic as the darknessclosed in like a vice.

Dr. Goodweather seemedto sense her unease, his expression softening with something that might havebeen mistaken for sympathy. He turned to the next slab, hands steady as hepulled back the crisp white sheet.

‘Eric Saunders, ageforty. Same situation as Kara. Pinprick to the neck, small abrasion on thepalm. Nothing else of note.’

Ella leaned in closer,scanning the man's lifeless form for any clue, any scrap of evidence that mightlead them to his killer. But there was nothing, just the same eerie stillness,the same waxy pallor of death.

‘Identical MO,’ Ripleysaid. ‘What was the official cause of death? Asphyxiation? Cardiac arrest?’'

Dr. Goodweather shookhis head, his expression almost gleeful. ‘Cardiac arrest, technically. But yes,lack of oxygen was the ultimate culprit. Once they're zipped up in those bags,it's only a matter of time before their heart gives out.’

Ella felt a chill rundown her spine, a morbid curiosity warring with her sense of professionalism.‘How long would it take? To suffocate inside a body bag?’

The coroner shrugged.‘Not long. Less than an hour, maybe even quicker if the nervous system isalready compromised. And once they're in there...’ he trailed off, his eyestaking on a faraway look that sent a shiver of unease through Ella's body. Sheglanced sideways at Ripley, sensing the same trepidation in her partner's eyes.

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