Page 65 of Girl Lost
Part of him regretted stopping it. If he’d been his old impulsive self, he would’ve let things go as far as she’d allow. But he wasn’t that guy anymore. He had self-control now. Didn’t he?
They rode in silence, the familiar streets of Millie Beach passing in a blur. Before long, they pulled into the parking lot of the medical examiner’s office.
He drained the last of his coffee and set the mug in the cupholder. “Ready?”
Luna nodded, her expression unreadable.
The automatic doors hissed open, ushering them into the sterile environment of the ME’s office. How many times had he walked through these doors to see the aftermath of evil?
A young female assistant, all wide eyes and solemnity, led them down the hallway. Her shoes squeaked against the polished linoleum floor. They passed several closed doors before reaching the office.
“Dr. Santos will be with you shortly.” The assistant gestured them inside. She practically bolted as soon as they crossed the threshold.
Mindful of his aching body, Corbin lowered himself into one of the chairs facing Dr. Santos’s desk, and Luna settled beside him.
The room was small but tidy. Bookshelves lined one wall, filled with medical texts and journals. The opposite wall held framed diplomas and certifications, displaying the enormous amount of dedication Dr. Santos had in order to earn her expertise. A window behind her desk offered a view of a small courtyard. The green splash of life counteracted the deathly business conducted within these walls.
Before either could speak, the office door swung open. Dr. Amelia Santos strode in. Her white lab coat billowed behind her. She had her dark hair pulled back in its usual neat bun, and her eyes carried no hint of the all-nighter she’d pulled.
“Good morning,” Santos said, moving behind her desk. She dropped a stack of folders onto the polished surface with a soft thud and sat in her chair. “The commissioner’s arriving any minute, but I’ve confirmed his daughter’s identity.” Her businesslike tone was sharp but not unkind.
Corbin leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the arms of the chair. “What have you got for us, Doc?”
Santos opened the top folder, her fingers tracing the lines of text as she gathered her thoughts. The ticking of the wall clock seemed unnaturally loud in the silence, each second moving closer to answers.
“I thought you’d want an update before I show you the bodies.” Santos pinned him with serious eyes. “I’ve finished a preliminary on Carlie Tinch. My suspicions were correct.” She paused, her fingers tapping a restless rhythm on the folder. “Her vital organs had been removed. She was otherwise unharmed, except...”
Except what? What other indignity had this poor girl suffered?
Santos turned the monitor so they could see. The glossy screencaught the light, and for a moment, Corbin saw his own reflection. Pale, drawn, eyes haunted. He steeled himself and looked at the photo.
Carlie’s wrist filled the photo, pale skin marred by ugly, purplish bruises. They formed a cruel bracelet that told a story of struggle and fear.
“Ligature marks?” His words came out rough.
Beside him, Luna’s shifting posture was the only indication she’d seen the photo too. How much horror had Luna witnessed in her line of work? How much could any of them take before it broke them?
Dr. Santos pulled up a series of photos, each showing a young woman with the same Y-incision. Corbin’s stomach churned as he realized how young they all looked.
“Same preliminary findings for these victims,” Santos said. “All healthy girls, prime of their lives. All organs removed, ligature marks on the wrists.”
“Could she have died another way?” Corbin’s detective’s mind searched for alternatives. “Maybe a medical examiner just ... disposed of the body improperly?”
Even as the words left his mouth, Corbin knew it was a long shot. But he had to ask. Had to search for any explanation that might lessen the horror of what lay before them.
Dr. Santos shook her head. “No, Agent King. What was done to Carlie is fundamentally different from a standard autopsy. We remove organs for examination, yes, but we return them to the body. Here, the organs were removed.”
“Which organs are we talking about here?” Corbin dreaded the answer.
“Hearts, lungs, kidneys, liver.” Santos ticked them off on her fingers. “The works.”
Corbin said, “So you think we’re looking at organ harvesting?”
“That’s not my department, Agent. I just report what I find. The rest is up to you.” Santos leaned back in her chair. “But I willpoint out that these organs could fetch a price on the black market. Definitely the type harvested for organ trafficking.”
The words hung in the air.
Harvested. Like crops. Like Carlie was nothing more than a resource to be used and discarded. The sheer inhumanity of it made his blood boil.
