Page 27 of Water's Edge

“Give that girl a gold star. We’ll have to open her up to see if she’s been strangled.”

Dr. Andrade holds his hand out. His assistant puts a scalpel in it, and he moves to the top of the table. He pulls the lamp above the victim’s head and puts the tip of the blade against the skin behind the left ear. He slices left to right, starting at the bony prominence behind the left ear, ending behind the right ear. He hands the scalpel back to the assistant and uses his fingers to peel the scalp up toward the top of the head. He has to use the scalpel several times to excise the tissue attaching the scalp to the skull, but eventually he’s able to get a grip and pulls the scalp up and over the victim’s head and eyes.

It looks like the scalp has been turned inside out and put on the head like a hair-fringed sock hat. I feel Ronnie’s fingers, which had been so limp when I met her, dig deep into my lower arm. I feel nauseous myself. The sides of the table are angled at the bottom to form a semi-drain that runs into an industrial double-size steel sink. Attached to the faucet is a long hose with a spray head. The assistant uses the sprayer to wash blood away and I watch it run down the steel table in rivulets and pool against the angles before running into the sink.

The blood triggers me.

I’m back in Port Orchard. My little brother, Hayden, is on the kitchen floor. He’s crying. His shirt is covered in blood. Rolland is on the kitchen floor beside Hayden. A large hunting knife is buried in his chest. He isn’t moving. His eyes are fixed in a thousand-yard stare. The room starts spinning. Spinning. I can’t breathe.

“Are you okay, Detective?” A male voice, faint, like it’s coming from far away.

“Megan, what’s wrong?”

A woman’s voice.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Help her to a chair,” says the male voice.

“Come on, Megan.”

The woman’s voice is close in my ear. Too close. Touching me. I jerk away and something catches me in the back of the legs. I sit down hard; my teeth clack together and I bite my tongue. I put my hand over my mouth and zone back in.

“Are you all right?” Ronnie asks.

I look across the room at Dr. Andrade. He has a look of concern on his face, but his assistant looks tired. She’s seen this too many times. No doubt thinking that I’ll throw up and she’ll have a mess to clean up.

“I’m sorry.” I get up and start for the door. “I’m going out for a breath of air.”

“I’ll take notes,” Ronnie is saying as I go through the door and almost run to the elevator. I hit the button but it’s too slow. I look for the stairs and see the door marked with the silly sign for “HisandHers.”

I rush into the bathroom, throw the latch, and hurl into the toilet.

Fourteen

I clean up the best I can and look in the warped steel mirror above the sink. My eyes are puffy, like I’ve been crying. I splash water on my face and dry off with paper towels. Pushing my hair back into some order, I stand up and flick the latch open. I walk to the stairs and go up and outside. The fresh air revives me, but I still feel like I’m on the verge of reeling.

I sit on the concrete steps in front of the building. I’m embarrassed. I brought the new girl andIwas the one who got sick. I will never live it down if Sheriff Gray finds out.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and smell it. I don’t think I smell of vomit. I decide to go back in and finish what I am here for. I can do this. I head back in and go down the stairs. My stomach aches a little and that reminds me of the stretch marks on the victim’s abdomen.

Dr. Andrade is moving right along. I can see a section of the skull is missing along with the brain. I don’t want to ask where they are. Ronnie doesn’t notice I’ve come in.

She’s mesmerized.

I find another mask and pull on a new pair of latex gloves. I’m not going to touch anything, but I don’t want anything touching me, either. Dr. Andrade doesn’t say anything about my absence, but his assistant cuts her eyes toward me. I nod to signal that I’m okay and her face crinkles behind the mask.

I hope it’s a smile.

The autopsy takes an hour and thirty-three minutes. All body parts are packed inside, and the body stitched up. Dr. Andrade gives his assistant some final instructions and motions for us to go to his office. We dispose of our gloves, booties, and masks in the biohazard container by the door and follow him down the hallway.

I’m surprised how small his office is. There’s barely room for a small wooden desk, three chairs, and a wall full of tall steel filing cabinets.

“I’d offer you coffee, but as you can see, I don’t have room for a coffeepot.”

He says this with a grin and I suddenly like him.

I take a chair and Ronnie takes another. She hasn’t said a word about my sudden departure, but the day isn’t over yet.

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