Page 16 of Girl, Reborn

'It's a raw deal, that's for sure. I'm notsure what Toledo sold these people, but whatever he promised, he delivered akick in the teeth instead.'

‘Right. If he had a hand in theconstruction of that dam, it means we’ve got a suspect pool the size of thegoddamn Potomac.’

. ‘My money's on something personal.Toledo had enemies, sure. Goes with the territory. But this?’ She waved a hand,encompassing the dingy lobby, the body waiting for them down the hall. ‘Thisfeels like more than politics. More than business.’

The receptionist, a tight-faced woman witha hairsprayed helmet, cleared her throat pointedly. 'The coroner will see younow.' She jabbed a button, and the heavy security door buzzed open.

She pushed off the wall, Luca unfoldinghimself from the chair with a liquid grace that had her mouth going dry. Damnhim and his genetic blessings. It just wasn't fair.

The stench of antiseptic andindustrial-grade bleach smacked Ella in the sinuses as they navigated thelabyrinth of halls. She breathed deep, letting the antiseptic burn scour awaythe stale lobby air. It was a smell that had become perversely comforting overthe years, a twisted sort of welcome mat for the weekly waltzes with death.

The door to the autopsy room loomed beforethem, as imposing and ominous as the gates of hell. Ella's hand hesitated onthe knob for the space of a heartbeat, a flutter of trepidation in her chest.Stupid. Just another day at the office for her, another peek behind the veil topoke at the leftovers of human cruelty.

No big deal. Nothing to get jittery over.

She wrenched the door open, and Luca fellbeside her as they crossed the threshold into the chilly, white-tiled box of aroom. The light beat down on the stainless steel table in the center. Thedraped figure atop it was as still and silent as the grave. And beside the bodywas a white-haired scarecrow of a man in a lab coat.

‘Welcome, Agents,’ the coroner wheezed. Hehad the weathered look of a man who'd spent decades elbow-deep in society'sgrim leavings and come out the other side cracking wise about it over a beer atthe local dive. ‘I'm Dr. Harris Fenneman, chief medical examiner.’

‘Agent Ella Dark. This is my partner,Agent Luca Hawkins.’ Ella went for the handshake but then thought better of it.Probably best not to make physical contact with someone who spent their dayssifting through human innards. ‘Thanks for seeing us on short notice.’

‘Seeing as you brought me such aninteresting case, I suppose I can make an exception.’ Fenneman's eyes gleamedbehind bifocals as he led them over to the gurney. ‘I just got finished twentyminutes ago.’

Luca shifted beside her. Poor boy wasn'tquite used to dancing with death on the daily yet.

Fenneman snapped on a pair of gloves andplaced a hand on the white sheet that concealed the body. Ella steeled herselffor the reveal. No matter how many corpses she'd cataloged over the years, thatfirst glimpse was always a gut punch straight to the soul.

She eyeballed Luca and he gave her hisbest I’m ready nod. Showtime.

'Alright, Doc,' she said. 'Walk us throughit.'

‘Okay, we’ll start with the obvious.’

Fenneman whipped back the sheet, revealingRicky Toledo's bloated corpse. His skin was tallow pale, his sunken eyes staredsightlessly at the ceiling tiles. Ella's throat clenched as she took in theruin of the golden boy politician, but she didn't allow herself to look away.She forced her gaze over every tragic inch, each purple-black bruise andwaterlogged limb. This was his vigil, and she'd bear witness.

Even with the Y-incision marring his torsoand his skin gone grey and waxy with death's pallor, Ricky Toledo was still aremarkably handsome man. Strong jaw, patrician nose, hair artfully tousled likehe'd just rolled out of bed after a marathon session of mattress Olympics.

Ella swallowed past the sudden stone inher throat. Sent up a silent prayer to whatever tarnished saint watched overthe souls of the violently departed. I'm sorry, buddy. No one deserves togo out like this.

Under the wrenching pity, anotherrealization was horning in – a tickle at the back of her brain, an alarm bellmuffled by a pillow. Something wasn't right here. Something beyond the obviouswrongness of the body on the slab.

Then it hit her like a smack to thesinuses.

An odd smell. Chemical. Brackish. Out ofplace, even amongst the sense-assaulting chokehold of death.

Luca leaned in and immediately recoiled,clearly catching the same thing. ‘Christ, what died in here? Besides theobvious.’

Fenneman's lips thinned to a grim slash.‘I noticed that as well. Most unusual, given the circumstances. But we'regetting ahead of ourselves. Preliminary C.O.D. is drowning.’

‘Drowning,’ Ella repeated.

The coroner traced Toledo’s bloated lungswith a finger. He had the practiced moves of a man well-versed in the art ofreading a corpse. ‘Asphyxiation. Pulmonary edema, to be exact. Including whatwe call in the trade a foam cone. But in layman’s terms, he drowned, andnot just that, but Mr. Toledo here was submerged underwater long after he’dexpired.’

Ella latched onto that. ‘He was heldunderwater after death?’

‘Yes indeed. His lungs retained anincredible amount of water, enough to expand them and damage his ribcage. Thebody only begins to inhale water post-mortem. During the act of drowning, itfights to keep water out.’

Ella cataloged the details. Toledo’skiller had ensured he was well and truly dead before bringing him up for air.Watery overkill.

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