Page 115 of Girl Between
“What’s VIGOR?” Richter asked.
Taurant proudly rattled off the acronym’s definition. “Volunteer in Government of Responsibility.It was an EMS volunteer program. Started after Katrina. Still active as far as I know. Allows volunteers to work alongside New Orleans EMS. Always busiest this time of year with all the festivals.”
Goosebumps raced up Dana’s spine like they always did when she was getting close to the truth. “Thanks,” she said to Taurant. “Keep your phone on you. I expect you to answer if we need an ID.”
“Wait!” he said as Dana began to stand. Pulling her back he spoke in hushed tones. “New Orleans celebrates all walks of life, not everywhere else in the world is as accepting. I’d appreciate if you didn’t speak about this in our professional circles,” he said, gesturing to the sequin dress he wore.
A spark of empathy softened Dana as Taurant’s false lashesfluttered nervously. “I doubt anyone cares that you’re into drag, Taurant, but they won’t hear it from me.”
“I appreciate it,” he said.
Dana’s mind was buzzing as she and Richter fought their way back through the crowd to their seats. They’d just sat down when the MC announced the next act.
Nurse Anna Rection, bounded onto the stage to show off her moves. She flounced the curls of her bright red wig and pointed at Richter.
“Shit on a Sunday,” he muttered as the voluptuous queen made a beeline toward him, with a sexy strut.
She sashayed over and gave him a sultry lap dance he’d never forget. After, she returned to the stage to continue her striptease. When she unzipped her little white nurse’s gown, she shocked the audience by revealing not the expected curvy implants, but a gaunt, gray chest straight out of a horror movie. The painted flesh was covered in latex sutures that formed the shape of a Y.
Dana missed the punch line of whateverWalking Deadjoke the queen had made because her mind was busy knitting together the fraying pieces of a thought. The Y incision had her flashing back to the ME photographs of the 68 victims. Not all of them had the telltale scar.
She turned to Lena. “When don’t you do an autopsy?”
“When we know cause of death.”
“Precisely!” Dana grabbed her hand. “We need to go.”
100
George’s headwas spinning as Dana unspooled her theory. They were back at the precinct, flipping through the ME photos of the victims now linked to the Casquette Girls case in chronological order.
“See,” Dana explained. “The earlier victims didn’t have autopsies performed.”
“Yeah,” George argued. “There was no need. Look at the mutilation. COD was evident. Severe blood loss, severed organs, butchered body parts. Take your pick,” he said, referring to the charts.
“Yes, but from what? There was no car accident or anything cited. A routine autopsy should’ve been performed.”
“Okay, so protocol wasn’t followed. It was a long time ago. Bringing that up now is only going to put the department under review.”
“Not the department,” Dana said. “One person. Look at who signed off on each one of these ‘ruled accidental’ deaths.”
George stared at Dr. Richard Landry’s signature. He scratched his head, knowing it would be impossible and unethical to ignore the glaring pattern Dana had uncovered, no matter how much respect he had for the man. “I’ll question him about it. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. There could be a simple explanation.”
Dana was already moving on. “That’s not the only thing.” She pointed to the other initials on each report. These are from the EMS team that recovered the bodies. Look familiar?” She flipped through each report, pointing to the same set of initials each time.
“Look,” LaSalle said, passing George a copy of the newspaper clipping with a photograph of two men. One, a tall Latino, the other a short Caucasian. They stood in front of an ambulance, both wearing EMS uniforms.
George read the caption beneath the photo. “Luis Fontera and VIGOR trainee Levi Monroe.”
“Wait,” said Dana, leaning in to get a better look. “I know him.” She pointed to Monroe. “The EMS at Metairie Cemetery.”
George looked closer, frustration unleashing a string of swears when he realized Dana was right.Monroe was there.“I can’t believe I missed that.”
“We didn’t know who we were looking for yet,” Dana reminded him.
“Killers often insert themselves into the scene of the crime,” LaSalle added. “We need to recheck the CCTV footage to see if he was at any of the other crime scenes.”
George nodded, handing the newspaper clipping back. “Give this to Creed and have his team recheck the footage.”
