Page 51 of Panther's Magpie
I want to ask where he will sit, but he stands behind me, his hands on my shoulders.
“What did you find?” he asks, his tone solemn.
No one speaks at first. Meek keeps gazing at me like he is not sure what to say.
“Speak freely. I know it’s not common to bring an outsider in here, but she is Aspen’s best friend, and she deserves to know. Does anyone disagree?”
They all shake their heads no.
Finally Meek speaks up. “We found a dead body down in the night walker district. She was wearing the same clothes as Aspen when she went missing.”
My heart clenches in my chest. I can feel the tears prick my eyes, but I attempt to hold strong. The only indication that Panther is also processing this information is his hands gripping me tighter. I’m likely to have a bruise later, but I’m grateful for the bite of pain to focus on.
“We have the coroner confirming the identity. We could not tell right away if it was her or not. The woman was thin and tall with blond hair, so it matches the description, but without dental records or fingerprints, we cannot confirm.”
I suck in a breath. I don’t want to see it, but I need to.
“Do you have pictures of the body?” I ask.
“No, Magpie. You don’t want to see that,” Panther says, dropping to his knees next to me as he grips my hand.
“You need to confirm if it is her or not. I know her better than any of you. I can tell based on marks on her body if it is her,” I tell him.
He turns the chair toward him, fitting himself between my thighs. “Then tell me, and I will look. Or tell one of them. I don’t want that image in your pretty head.” He reaches out and caresses the side of my face.
“I appreciate you trying to protect me, but I don’t need it. You once said Aspen was resilient. That she was tough and could make it through this. Well, so am I. I can handle it. Please, show me the pictures.”
Everyone looks uncomfortable as I glance around the table. Not one wants to agree with me.
After several minutes of silence, Panther finally speaks. “Show her.”
His voice is thick with emotion as he looks at me. I can tell he is warring with himself, but he is trusting me.
Meek pulls up the pictures on a tablet and hands it over. I take a deep breath before I look at it.
The first picture is gruesome. It’s the body of a female in the clothes, like he said, laid out in an alley. There is no way to identify her by this picture.
I scroll to the next. This one is just as bad, but there are no features that I can confidently say this is her or not her.
I flip to the third then the fourth.
My stomach feels like it could empty itself at any time. My eyes burn from holding back the tears. Still, I push through.
For Aspen.
Finally, on the fifth picture, I perk up.
“It’s not her,” I tell them.
Panther’s eyes lock on mine.
“What do you mean it’s not her?” he asks.
He had been looking at the same photos I had been. I think he had convinced himself that it had to be her.
I point to the hip bone that is poking out.
“Aspen has a tattoo right there. It’s of a rabbit. She got it at some sleazy parlor when we were eighteen. The Asian guy convinced her it was for the year she was born, even though she was clearly born in the year of the rooster. Still, she got it. So there is no way this is her.”
