Except for the knife sticking out of his chest.
His heart had long since been removed, and his chest peeled back in such a way that he could have been confused with a Halloween prop. I would have liked the opportunity to study the death wound again, but Dr. Moody had taken plenty of photographs for me, which hopefully would suffice. Those photographs now sat in a file that would soon be submitted to me.
“And what’s the deal with all the caribou meat anyway?” I whispered. “I mean, I’ve seen caribou, sure, but it’s not like I want to dig my face into one.”
I sighed as the realization dawned on me that the only people I was comfortable talking to were either cats or dead people. I could only imagine the conversations I could have with a dead cat...
I took in some air and paused near John Doe’s muscular legs, which had been spared any incisions. Yep, his legs were just as strong as the rest of him. Strong, strong legs. I had to imagine this guy had been quite the runner and then some.
“What were you running from?” I asked aloud. Suddenly worried Dr. Moody might have overheard me from upstairs, I felt my face flush. I had to stop having conversations with dead bodies, that’s all there was to it. I was starting to scare myself. I could only imagine what my mother would think!
Personality disorders or not, you have a case to solve, Elodie Matthews, I said to myself. So you’d better get on with solving it.
I suddenly remembered that day in the snow when Miguel had told me about his dead brother. Even though I’d followed up with him on that exact subject, he’d refused to say anything more about it. The truth was, he’d already said enough when he’d whispered the Inuit word for shape-shifter.
I sighed because I really hadn’t wanted my train of thought to travel down this track. Yes, I was aware of the rumors, which seemed especially prevalent in these parts. And a naked man with a silver dagger in his chest and a belly full of caribou meat definitely supported the idea of a shape-shifting wolf or bear or something that could take down a caribou. It definitely would do nothing to dispel the rumors, anyway. Hell, it would only add to them!
But that didn’t mean I believed it! That was the kind of stuff kids bought into—the boogeyman and all that other nonsense. In my experience, things that went bump in the night were less about ectoplasm and more about law-breaking enthusiasm.
Six pounds of caribou meat! I thought to myself as I focused on the body again and shook my head.
After another few seconds, I reached the unarguable conclusion that the connection with this dead guy just wasn’t there. No matter how hard I tried, I felt nothing for him. No burning desire to find his killer, no reason to care…
“Yep, and it’s kind of freaking me out,” I said out loud as I sighed. “So, if you’re holding out on me, now’s the time to release that psychic energy. Let’s connect on the cosmic plane, shall we?”
There was no response, but it wasn’t as if I was actually waiting for one…
Finally, I reached out and placed my hand on the man’s knee. And that’s when something hit me.
It was like someone had started a projector behind the screen of my eyelids because I was suddenly invaded with images—foreign and difficult to comprehend. There were so many of them that I could barely focus. After another second or so, they started to fall into place and I found myself watching two young boys, maybe ten years old, playing together in a stream, throwing water at each other and laughing.
Then that image faded, to be replaced with a man—his hair was longish and black and his eyes were the color of steel. They were eyes I’d seen before… the same as the wolf from my dreams and the wolf I’d met in the forest while on my jog.
This man was angry—proof was in his furrowed brow, narrowed eyes and pinched mouth.
“How could you do this to me?” he asked. “I love her and you’re my brother!”
That image faded and before I could be assaulted by anything else, I pulled away.
But, just as I was pulling my hand away, something happened. Something that made my eyes blast open. Something that made me gasp, and then nearly trip over my own feet.
“It moved,” I said aloud, even though I was beyond convinced that my observation was impossible. On. Every. Level.
But, no, John Doe’s leg had moved. I mean, I’d felt it move. Not like a twitch or a spasm. His very dead, very inanimate foot had moved from side to side, like he’d been working out a kink in his ankle or something.
And it was still moving. As I stood there and watched it, it continued to move back and forth as if it was ready to jump up and dance. Even as I stumbled up the stairs, the damn thing was still swishing left to right.
I hurtled myself out of the dank morgue beneath the only medical facility in Hope, Alaska, and into the good doctor’s office. Moody’s secretary looked up at me with alarm. I didn’t blame her. I was sure I looked like I’d just seen a ghost.
Or a corpse coming back to life.
Chapter Seven
“Where’s Moody?” I insisted as I faced the doctor’s surprised assistant.
My heartbeat was going a thousand miles a minute and I was panting. I could already feel the lines of sweat beading along my brow. No sooner did the question leave my mouth than I heard a cacophony from downstairs that sounded like metal examining table meeting ground.
Son of a…
“He’s… he’s on the phone with a patient,” the girl stammered as she gave me the expression of what in the hell was that sound?
I backed up a few steps and arched my back over the banister to see if I could get a look at what was going on in the basement downstairs. From my vantage point, all I could see was the base of the stairwell and maybe five feet directly in front of the last stair. There was another loud noise of metal clanking against metal and then I saw a foot… followed by another foot, each step leaving a bloodied footprint. Yep, John Doe had somehow managed to un-kill himself and now he was walking around the morgue.
Seriously.
“Get Dr. Moody now!” I barked at the frightened girl as soon as I glanced back at her. Meanwhile, the realization of what was happening downstairs began to slowly dawn on me and I felt lightheaded and suddenly dizzy. I had to lean over and put my hands on my knees in order to catch my breath.
This is so not happening, I said to myself as I shook my head. I mean, this is completely crazy! This kind of stuff just doesn’t happen!
You saw his foot move! And you know no one else was down there!
What you think is going on down there is a total and complete impossibility, I reasoned. There is no way a cadaver, with half of its organs missing, can just come back to life and start walking around!
Well, how the hell else do you explain the fact that you saw its foot moving, and then you heard the sound of it jumping or falling off the examination table and then you saw its feet… walking! There was another loud crash. And what else could be making all that racket? No one else is down there!
“I can’t just go and get him!” the girl replied with a frown, drawing my attention back to her as she shook her head emphatically and crossed her arms over her chest. “Like I just told you, he’s on the phone with a patient!”
“I don’t give a damn!” I thundered and brushed past her at the same time that Dr. Moody cracked open the door of his examination room at the far end of the hallway. He poked his little, round head out and looked irritated.