he was stocking up and turned toward the building. He held open the door for Bree. As she passed in front of him, the corner of her mouth turned up, as it always did when he exhibited any of the old-fashioned gestures his mother had drilled into him since birth. The manners were ingrained and as automatic as breathing for him. Her expression was surprised but pleased, but maybe also surprised that she was pleased.
They signed in, made their way to the antechamber, and collected personal protective equipment. Matt drew on a blue gown over his clothes. When the bone saws came out, bodily fluids and fragments of flesh and bone could go flying.
He glanced through the small window that looked into the autopsy suite. Dr. Jones was bent over the stainless-steel table. On it, the naked body lay faceup.
“She got an early start,” he said, reaching down to fix the elastic of a bootie.
“Shit.” Bree pulled down her clear plastic face shield and rushed through the swinging door.
Matt followed, less upset about missing part of the autopsy. As always, the smells hit him like a blow, immediately turning his stomach. He took two shallow breaths before sucking it up and moving into position next to Bree. His breath fogged the face shield, making him oddly claustrophobic.
The body was scraped and banged up. The bridge was more than thirty feet above the river. At that height, the fall was survivable and the water deep enough that the jumper wouldn’t bottom out. But a hundred feet downstream, there were boulders and other debris the body could have struck while being tumbled in the current.
The Y-incision flayed the chest like a wide-mouth duffel bag. The chest plate had been removed, and the internal cavity gaped empty. The organs had been removed, weighed, examined, and samples taken. They would be returned to the body inside a plastic bag before the incision was closed. A block under the back of the neck stretched out the throat, where the skin was neatly excised and peeled back to expose the underlying anatomical structure.
As they approached the table, Dr. Jones straightened. As usual, she got right to business.
“I’ll start with where we stand on confirming this woman’s identity as Holly Thorpe.” The ME inclined her head toward the body. “Ms. Thorpe has no dental records that I could find.”
“Her husband said she hadn’t been to a dentist since she was a child,” Bree said.
Dr. Jones continued with a nod. “Holly was thirty-four. If she hasn’t seen a dentist since she was a child, it’s possible that dentist is no longer in business or has purged their records. Dentists aren’t required to keep records that long. According to her family doctor, she’s never broken a bone. So, we could find no X-rays to compare. She has no tattoos or obvious scars. While the lack of those things matches this victim, it isn’t enough. We still need scientific confirmation of her identification. Her hairbrush contained several strands with the root still attached. We’re submitting those for DNA testing and will issue an official confirmation of ID as soon as those results are in.”
“DNA tests can take months,” Matt said. “That’s a long time for the family to wait.”
The ME wouldn’t release the body to a funeral home until she was satisfied with the identification.
“I agree.” Dr. Jones nodded. “Out of respect for the family, I contacted the lab to request a rush on the testing. I’m pushing to have results within the week.” She gestured toward the body. “So, based on the information we do have.” The ME ticked off the facts on her gloved finger. “Basic physical characteristics, the identification in her vehicle and purse, and Mr. Thorpe’s recognition of his wife’s wedding ring, we are prepared to issue a presumptive ID that this is Holly Thorpe.”
Bree said, “I’d like to speak with her family before that information is made public.”
Dr. Jones nodded. “If you would prefer to issue the press release, that’s fine with me.”
Matt was impressed with the ME’s thoroughness and compassion. Dr. Jones treated the remains in her care like patients.
“Time of death?” Bree asked.
Dr. Jones frowned at the body. “My best estimate based on the condition of the body is that she’s been dead at least three days but no more than five. I’m giving a time of death between noon Thursday and noon Saturday.”
“Could you determine a cause of death?” Bree asked.
“Yes.” Dr. Jones faced the body. “First of all, she did not