I used the lift to turn him and keep him suspended while I repeated the procedure on his shoulders and back, and by the time I made it up the back of his neck, the last song on my playlist was fading away.
There was a buzz and the click of the lock, and for a split second, fear gripped me and I grasped the scalpel in my hand a little tighter. I’d spent the last couple of years with my father popping up like a weed whenever he felt like it, and that fear of the unknown had only started to fade after his death. But in reality, I’d lived a good part of my life in fear—fear of being alone, fear for my life, fear for Jack’s life—and I’d finally decided to take control over the last several months.
But the incident with Blake had shaken me more than I’d realized, because it had been his face I’d been expecting when the door opened. And then I felt stupid because after everything I’d been through and after overcoming so much, in an instant I was filled with anxiety just as I had been before.
Jack appeared in the doorway, and I let out a slow, shaky breath and relaxed my grip on the scalpel, laying it down on my equipment tray.
“Hey,” I said, pulling off my gloves and tossing them in the trash. I glanced at the clock and realized I’d been at it a couple of hours already, and I removed the heavy apron and hung it on a peg. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight.”
I covered Kevin with a white sheet up to the waist and went to the mini-fridge and grabbed a couple of waters. I listened to Jack’s footsteps as he came down the stairs, but he didn’t say anything.
It wasn’t until I saw his face that the realization hit me. White lines of anger creased around his mouth and eyes, and I knew what he was going to say before it left his mouth. I’d blown it. Big time.
Chapter Five
“I’m sorry,” I said, coming around the table to meet him. “I should have called you. I wasn’t thinking.”
Some of the anger deflated from him and I could see the hurt behind it. I hated when I hurt Jack, even unintentionally. But I should have been the one to call and tell him about Blake.
“Emmy Lu called me,” he said. “She didn’t want you left here by yourself at night with that nutjob running around. Her words, not mine. I’ve got much better words to describe him.”
“Hmm,” I said. “Well, I guess I’m glad one of us was thinking clearly. I completely put it out of my mind. I don’t think I could’ve functioned tonight if I hadn’t. He surprised me more than anything, but I handled it. And I’m going to call the dean of the department in the morning and file a formal complaint with the university.”
“That’s not all you’re going to do,” Jack said. “You’re going to press charges with the sheriff’s office too. Guys like this are a dime a dozen. It needs to go on his record because he’ll do it again. If we make life harder for him maybe he’ll think twice before he does it to the next woman.”
I blew out an uneasy breath. “I know you’re right,” I said, handing him a bottle of water. I didn’t touch him yet. He had that stiff look about him that said he wasn’t quite ready to let go of his anger. “I’ve got no excuse. I am sorry. All I can say is that I was thinking about Kevin’s autopsy, and then Blake showed up out of nowhere. It was easier to focus on Kevin than think too hard about what happened.”
Jack blew out an aggravated breath and pulled me into his arms. “The only reason that makes any sense to me is because I know you well. But just so we’re clear, if he shows up anywhere around you again I’m going to rearrange his face and enjoy it.”
“Good,” I said. “I threatened him with you. What kind of dummy does something like that to a cop’s wife?”
“An entitled brat who’s never been told no,” he said. “And just in case, I’m hanging here with you until you’re ready to go home.”
“Wow,” I said. “You must be worried about me. You hate being down here.”
“Only when you’re embalming,” he said. “It takes days to get the smell out of my nostrils, and I have to throw my clothes away.”
I snorted out a laugh. “Not to mention it makes you throw up. It’s kind of weird to think of some of the crime scenes we’ve been to, and the only thing that turns your stomach is the smell of embalming fluid. That’s messed up.”
Jack rolled his eyes and released me. “Found anything interesting with the victim?”
“I’m still removing the melted chain mail from his skin,” I said. “You want to talk about smells…”
“Let’s not,” he said.
I went over to my workstation and grabbed the evidence bag with the phone and wallet inside and gave it to Jack.
“These were on the inside pocket of his jacket,” I said. “Phone is dead. It was probably fried along with our victim.”
“I’ve got a warrant to examine anything retrieved from the body, but I’ll give it to the tech guys and see what they can pull from it.” He got a pair of gloves from the box on my desk and opened the bag, taking out the wallet. It was a standard brown leather wallet that looked like it had seen better days.
“You have an extra scalpel?” Jack asked. “It’s stuck together.”
“Sure,” I said, handing him an older one from the drawer.
He sat down at my desk and carefully started deconstructing the wallet. The plastic cards and pockets had melded together. Since Jack had something to occupy himself, and since he seemed to be done talking about the incident with Blake, I decided to go back to removing the rest of the chain mail from Kevin’s head.
I started another playlist—this one of Billie Holiday—and I grabbed another pair of gloves, put my apron back on, and grabbed a new scalpel. I’d have to remove hair along with flesh and wanted a fresh blade. I hummed along with the music as I finished the task, and when I was done I held up the chain mail shirt with the attached hood and then laid it flat on an evidence table.
“That’s disgusting,” Jack said, looking up from the cards and money he had spread out in front of him.
“The human body is a fascinating thing,” I said. “So many intricacies and layers. Nerve endings and tissue and muscles and bones. When everything is working in accordance it’s a beautifully and wonderfully made machine. But if you throw in an extra element…”
“Like electricity?” Jack asked.
“Yes, like that,” I agreed. “You throw in an added element and it ruins every part of the system. That chain mail he was wearing and the metal on his jacket and cape. It’s like his body was trapped in a big microwave.”
“I watched the tape Chief Slack gave me,” Jack said. “From the time the sword first made contact with Kevin, it was almost two minutes before he dropped to the ground and Dwight and the ref ran over to check on him.”
“That’s a long and painful amount of time to be microwaved,” I said, sorrow pressing against my chest at the thought of what Kevin had gone through. “Anything in the wallet?”
“Seven dollars, driver’s license, a credit card, a membership card to the National Comic Book Association, and one of those photo booth pictures of him and a girl.”