Page 92 of This is Why We Lied

“Well, he’s dead now,” Amanda said. “I need all of your observations documented in writing and sent via email. What’s your plan for the body?”

“Uh—” Sara was used to these abrupt switches with Will, but Amanda could teach a master class. “Nadine will help me perform the physical exam. We’ll collect any fingernail scrapings, fibers or hairs, blood, urine, any semen. They’ll go to the lab for immediate analysis. The full autopsy will happen at headquarters tomorrow afternoon. The scheduling was moved up when I notified them that we no longer have a suspect in custody.”

“Find me evidence to remedy that, Dr. Linton.” Amanda opened the door.

Sara felt her eyes sting from the bright fluorescent lights. The morgue looked like every small-town hospital morgue built after the Second World War. Low ceilings. Yellow and brown tiles on the floors and walls. Lightboxes on the wall. Adjustable exam lights over the porcelain autopsy table. Stainless-steel sink with a long, attached counter. A computer and keyboard on a wooden school desk. A rolling stool and a mayo tray laid out with various tools for the physical exam. A cold room with twelve total refrigerated mortuary cabinets stacked four across and three high. Sara checked to make sure she had everything she needed for the physical exam: safety gear, camera, specimen tubes, collection bags, nail scrapers, tweezers, scissors, scalpels, slides, rape kit.

Amanda asked, “No luck finding the son?”

Sara shook her head. “Jon’s probably hung over, sleeping it off. I’m going back out with the aunt after the exam to look for him.”

“Tell him he’s going to have to make a statement at some point. He could be valuable pinning down timeline, figuring out who was the last person to see Mercy alive,” Amanda said. “Jon was with you when you heard the second and third scream, correct?”

“Correct,” Sara said. “I saw him walk out of the house with a backpack. I imagine he was planning on running away. The fight with Mercy at dinner was intense.”

“See what you can get out of the aunt while you’re searching,” Amanda said. “Delilah knows something.”

“About the murder?”

“About the family,” Amanda said. “You’re not the only one on the team who gets gut feelings.”

Before Sara could press her for more, the gears on the freight elevator started to make an ominous grinding sound. Water seeped under the bottom of the sliding doors.

Amanda said, “If you had to guess right now, who would be your prime suspect?”

Sara didn’t need time to think. “Someone in the family. Mercy was blocking their payday from the sale.”

“You sound like Will,” Amanda said. “He loves a money motive.”

“For good reasons. Outside of the family, I’d say it’s Chuck. He’s profoundly discomforting. The brother too, for that matter.”

Amanda nodded before looking down at her phone.

Sara realized that she had been slow on the uptake again. Only now did it occur to her how strange it was that the deputy director was attending a preliminary external exam. The full autopsy where the body was opened up for examination would take place at headquarters and be performed by someone else on the team. Nothing probative would likely be found during Sara’s external exam. She was only doing it to get a head start on collecting blood, urine and trace evidence that would be sent to the lab for processing. Mercy’s body had been found partially submerged in water. The likelihood that Sara would find any information this morning that required immediate action was close to zero.

So why was the boss here?

The elevator doors groaned open before she had time to ask the question. More water poured out. Nadine stood on one side of a hospital gurney. Biscuits was on the other. Sara’s gaze found the post-mortem bag. White vinyl, heat-sealed edges, a reinforced zipper with thick plastic teeth. The outline of Mercy’s body was slight, as if she had managed to do in death what people had been trying to do to her for seemingly her entire life: make her disappear.

Sara let everything else fade away. She thought about the last time she’d seen Mercy alive. The woman had been embarrassed, but proud. She was used to doing everything for herself. Mercy had let Sara take care of her injured thumb. Now, Sara would help take care of her body.

Amanda said, “Sheriff Hartshorne, thank you for joining us.”

Her pseudo-gracious tone didn’t completely disarm him. “I have a right to be here.”

“And you are welcome to exercise that right.”

Sara ignored the dumbstruck look on the sheriff’s face. She took the foot of the gurney and helped Nadine steer the body into the morgue. They worked together silently, shifting the body bag onto the porcelain table, rolling away the gurney. Next, they each geared up in gowns, respirators, face shields, safety glasses and exam gloves. Sara wasn’t going to do a full autopsy, but Mercy had lain in the heat and humidity for hours. Her body had turned into a toxic brew of pathogens.

“Maybe we should put on masks, too,” Biscuits said. “Lotta fentanyl up here. Mercy’s got a long history of addiction. We could die just from breathing the fumes.”

Sara looked at him. “That’s not how fentanyl works.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’ve seen grown men taken down by that stuff.”

“I’ve seen nurses accidentally spill it on their hands and laugh.” Sara looked at Nadine. “Ready?”

Nadine gave her a nod before starting on the zipper.

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