Page 6 of 1st Shock
I can’t think about it. Can’t.
I shake it off and focus on Avery. Starting at her head, I walk around, making sure to keep my hands at my sides and take my time analyzing the bones and reconstruction of them.
"Petite," I say.
"We're estimating around five-one. Caucasian female."
I was right. This gives me a small sense of satisfaction since I originally doubted my instincts and went with the gender neutral name.
"Age?"
"Late teens to early twenties. Her teeth are in good shape."
Meaning vital DNA can be garnered from them and later tested for any possible matches. Something tells me that’d be too easy.
I study the teeth, my artist's eye narrowing in on the perfectly even top row. "Straight."
"Yes. No cavities either. She could afford dental work."
I retrieve my phone from my back pocket and make a note of it. Why this detail stands out, I'm not sure, but something down deep compels me to record it.
"Clothing?"
"A tank top, sports bra, and running shorts. All Nike and still on her body. She also wore a fitness watch. We found it on her wrist, but with the elements, it's dead."
Avery wasn't found naked, so either rape wasn't the intent, or she fought him off.Good for you.
"So, I'm going to assume, based on the clothing, watch, and dental work, she had money. Or at least wasn't destitute or homeless."
Dr. Gentry shrugs. "It's not a stretch."
Charlie would have to deal with that angle, but it gives us a starting point. Right about now, she'd be schmoozing detectives to turn over their notes. Knowing my sister, she has all this information already. She's good.
Really good.
Together, we are, in fact, remarkable.
I move my gaze to Avery's head where I see no cracks or holes from a bludgeoning or gunshot. The cast JJ brought me didn't show any signs of trauma either, but seeing the actual skull confirms it for me.
"What else?" I ask. "JJ said something about neck fractures."
I meet her eye and she points to Avery's neck. "Yes. The left arm of the hyoid has a fracture. It's about an eighth of an inch from the tip."
I peek at the top of her neck at the u-shaped bone and see the crooked left side. "I see it. Are you thinking strangulation? Maybe a rope or something?"
I'm anxious, ready to know the particulars of Avery's death so we can find her killer.
"Hyoid fractures are more common in ligature and manual strangulation as opposed to hanging. We're going with manual." She wraps her thumb and forefinger around her own neck. "The force of the hand covers a wider area and causes direct stress on the hyoid."
The demonstration allows me to visualize Avery with someone's hand—or hands—squeezing her throat. Stealing her air and cutting off all that vital blood supply.
Breaking a bone.
My stomach burns again and the sensation shoots in all directions, searing the underside of my skin.
I refocus. My job here is not to get emotional. Charlie reminds me of this often. Still, there is part of me that rejects it. Always. I'm an artist. Tapping into my emotions makes me good at my job. And if I can't get pissed about a young woman being strangled and tossed away like garbage, well, what would it take?
I picture my sister in front of me, shaking her head. What would I do without her? I just…no. Can’t go there. I breathe in. Breathe out. "All right. What else?"
