Page 69 of Another Girl Lost

Tension rippled through him. “I like to work alone.”

She winked. “Not this time, Lone Ranger.”

As he weaved through the building, she followed, her clipped heel strikes telegraphing she wasn’t the least bit intimidated. When he pushed through the front door, air swollen with heat wrapped around him. “We can take my car.”

“First stop is the Tidewater medical examiner’s office?” she asked.

“Correct.”

“I’ll meet you there. Who knows which directions we’ll have to go after. Give you a chance to absorb this new twist in your life.” The mockery was subtle, but it hummed under her words.

“Did you know about this assignment at the bar?” Dawson asked.

“I’d heard whispers, but nothing was etched in stone.”

“A heads-up would have been nice.”

She arched a brow. “How would that have changed anything?”

Knowing she was angling for a position in his department could have changed his decision to sleep with her. Could have, but likely wouldn’t have. His dick had taken over for his brain as soon as she’d sat next to him in the bar. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Will do.”

He was relieved to be alone as he drove to the medical examiner’s office. He could think better without her so close. As he pulled onto the quiet, tree-lined campus of Eastern Virginia Medical School, near the banks of the Elizabeth River, he had regrouped from the shock of having Margo on the case.

When he parked in front of the medical examiner’s office, he refused to look in his rearview mirror and search for Margo. He never liked having a partner, but all the others had been easy to ignore. Not Margo. Out of his car, the heavy summer shrouded him as he walked to the front doors. Heeled boots drummed into concrete behind him.

Door open, he paused until she caught up. Inside, the building’s air-conditioning coiled around him. He’d been in and out of this building more times than he could count, and he should have been used to it by now. He was a homicide detective. Death was part of the bargain.It came for us all, but he still resented the hell out of it when it took young kids.

With Margo behind him, he weaved his way through the building to the autopsy suite. There he found the medical examiner, Dr. Alex Malone. She was midthirties, had a solid reputation, and was considered a straight shooter. Tall, thin, with dark hair that accentuated her brown skin.Reserved, to the point of cold, was the word that came to mind when he saw her. But he got it. Better to toss up as many defense barriers as possible or this job could eat you alive.

Dr. Malone stood by a stainless-steel autopsy table where skeletal remains were carefully laid out. “Good morning.”

“Dr. Malone, this is Officer Margo Larsen,” Dawson said. “She’s new to the department and will be working with me on the Taylor case. Larsen, Dr. Alex Malone.”

Margo plucked latex gloves from a box resting on a stainless-steel table. “Dr. Malone. It’s a pleasure. Though I can think of nicer ways to meet.”

Dr. Malone’s tense features relaxed a fraction. “Me too.”

“What do you have for me ... us?” Dawson said.

Dr. Malone flexed gloved fingers. “Your victim was female and in her mid to late teens, judging by the cranial sutures on the top of her skull, which as you know don’t completely close until about age twenty-five.”

“That age estimate matches the description on the driver’s license found with the body,” Margo said.

“I understand the remains were discovered inside a wall,” Dr. Malone said.

“In the Ghent District.”

“Whoever wrapped her up did a good job. Meticulous. It was an airtight seal.”

“I spoke to a dozen people who lived around the crime scene,” Margo said. “Tanner worked for many of them, and his customers raved about his detailed carpentry work.”

“Why bother to wrap this body so carefully?” Dawson asked, more to himself. “He lived in the country and could have buried the body so deep it would’ve never been found.”

“The body was his version of a trophy,” Margo said. “His memento of his time with her.”

Dawson studied the drawn figure with dried gray skin reminiscent of a Halloween prop. A decade in the elements would have decimated a corpse, but the plastic wrap and insulation around the body had mummified the remains. “Let’s not get ahead of our skis. Tanner’s farmhouse was reduced to cinders. There was no way of proving if he held this victim or any other.”

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