Page 48 of Girl Lost
Luna’s breath caught. “Four?”
Dr. Santos gave her a grim look. “Yes, and we think there are more.”
17
FOUR GRAVES.Four bodies. And more.
Corbin could feel the blood drain from his face. A coldness settled in his gut. He’d been so focused on finding Carlie, on bringing her home safe. From addiction. At worst, trafficking. He’d never considered...
Four families. Four lives shattered. This wasn’t just a missing persons case anymore. This was something else. Something monstrous.
The relentless drone of cicadas filled the air, a high-pitched whine that grated on his nerves. He could feel the sweat trickling down his back, the humidity clinging to him like a second skin.
Floodlights, harsh and white, illuminated a section of the woods, casting long, grotesque shadows across the forest floor. Corbin stood with Luna, observing the forensic team as they worked to uncover the remains. To him, their white Tyvek suits made them look ghostly against the dark backdrop of the woods. Blue tarps, strung between the trees, created a series of makeshift tents. Each one marked a grave. The tarps also served another purpose—keeping prying eyes and news cameras at bay.
As if on cue, the distant thrum of helicopter blades cut throughthe air. He glanced up, though he couldn’t see much past the dense canopy of leaves. A news chopper circled overhead, no doubt hoping for a glimpse of the grisly scene below. He was grateful for the tarps now, providing at least some privacy and dignity for the victims.
A massive golden retriever sniffed at the ground, its tail wagging as it moved through the undergrowth. For a moment, Corbin thought it was Maizie, the surfer’s dog. But then he noticed the HRD label on the vest. A Human Remains Detection dog. He’d overheard the handler, an older man named Chuck, call the dog Remy.
“Hey, Chuck! Bring Remy this way!” a tech called out from a nearby clearing.
“Come on, Remy,” Chuck said. “Find it, boy!”
The dog perked up, its demeanor shifting as it focused intently on the ground near the tech. The dog paused, circled, and sniffed again. Remy lay flat to the ground and whined.
“Good boy.” Chuck crouched beside the dog and marked the spot with a small orange flag before giving Remy more praise and affection.
Another grave. How many more?
“We’ve only uncovered two of the bodies so far,” Dr. Santos was saying. Corbin followed her to the second tent with Luna keeping some distance a few steps behind.
“Carlie was the first.” Dr. Santos knelt and brushed soil away from the body of Carlie Tinch with a small brush. The young girl’s remains lay partially exposed. “We’re moving slowly to preserve any evidence.”
Corbin felt a knot tighten in his stomach. This was no place for a child, but from the looks of it, she was at least fully clothed. He studied the shallow grave. “Do we have an ID on the second girl?”
“No, that’ll be your department. We’re calling her Jane One for now. I only recognized Carlie because the commissioner ensured my office checked every Jane Doe that came through for hisdaughter.” Dr. Santos waved them over. “Come closer. I need to show you something that might be difficult to see.” She glanced at Luna. “You okay?”
He glanced back at her. Had she ever seen a body like this? “Luna?”
She nodded. “I’m good.”
He shuffled around the grave and stood behind Dr. Santos, peering over her shoulder.
Dr. Santos used a gloved finger to lift Carlie’s shirt enough to reveal her torso. She clicked on a penlight and shone the beam under the shirt. “See this?”
He moved to see under the shirt and felt his eyes bulge. A Y-shaped incision ran from Carlie’s collarbones down to her waist. The edges were neat and precise, held together by a series of small, evenly spaced sutures. He tried to make sense of what he was seeing. This couldn’t be right. It had to be a mistake. This looked exactly like...
“An autopsy incision,” Luna said.
Dr. Santos nodded. “That’s what I initially thought too. But look at these suture patterns. There are actually two distinct surgical interventions here.”
Corbin leaned in, forcing himself to study the incision. “Two surgeries? How can you tell?”
“See these older scar lines?” Dr. Santos pointed to faint whitish marks partially obscured by newer incisions. “The first procedure appears professional. Precise technique, minimal scarring. But this second procedure ...” She traced along the fresher incision. “Different suture pattern, less careful. And notice how the tissue is collapsed here and here.”
Corbin still wasn’t sure what he was looking at.
“The second incision follows the same path as the first,” Santos continued. “But see how the chest cavity appears sunken? Something was put in during the first surgery, then everything was taken out during the second. I can’t be certain until I get her to the lab,but I suspect multiple organs are missing, not just whatever was the target of the initial procedure.”
