drown. There was no froth in the mouth, nostrils, or trachea. No distension of the lungs. But more importantly, she was dead long before she went into the water.”
Bree’s posture stiffened. “How long?”
“Long enough for lividity to become fixed.” Dr. Jones pointed to a purple stain that ran the length of the corpse’s side. At the corpse’s hip, a long, thin white mark was embedded in the dark purple. “Do you see this impression?”
When the heart stopped beating, gravity caused blood to pool in the lowest parts of the body. This process, known as lividity or livor mortis, usually became fixed around six to twelve hours after death, although being submerged in cold water would have slowed the process. Sharp, pale imprints were the result of dermal pressure and usually meant the body had been lying on an object in the hours immediately after death. The body’s weight pressed down on the object and pushed the settling blood to the surrounding tissue.
Dr. Jones continued. “Normally, bodies that are submerged after death show lividity in the upper torso, head, and hands because of the position in which they tend to float.” She demonstrated, curling her body forward and dangling her hands and head.
“So, the presence of a side-lying lividity pattern is atypical,” Bree said.
“Yes. Now, it’s possible she was lodged against a boulder or caught in an eddy.” Dr. Jones waved a hand along the edge of the purple stain like Vanna White pointing out a vowel. She stopped with her fingertips a few inches away from the pale mark. “But the preciseness of the overall lividity pattern and the starkness and clarity of this mark suggests she was lying on her side on a hard surface for at least six hours after death.”
Bree’s shoulders dropped. “I think I know what made that mark. The handle of an ice scraper.”
Dr. Jones tilted her head. “The size and shape would be about right. Yes. Do you have a specific ice scraper in mind?”
“There was one in the trunk of her car. I have a photo.” Bree stepped away from the table, shifted her PPE gown, and pulled out her cell phone. She stripped off her glove and scrolled. After tapping on the screen, she showed the image to Dr. Jones and Matt.
In unison, they turned toward the body to compare the shape of the ice scraper handle to the white impression.
The ME nodded. “I’ll need to confirm with measurements, but that looks like a good match.”
Silence fell over them as they digested the implications.
After death, Holly probably had spent hours in the trunk of her own car.
Bree exhaled. “I’ll have a deputy bring the ice scraper from the impound garage.”
“Thank you,” Dr. Jones said.
“How did she die?” Matt asked.
The ME crossed to a laptop on a table. Removing her glove, she scrolled and pulled up a photo of the victim’s neck. “These scratches on the soft front of the neck aren’t like the rest of the abrasions on the body.”
Bree squinted. “They look like fingernail scratches.”
“Yes, and they’re deep,” Dr. Jones agreed.
Matt stared at the photo. The scratches ran vertically from the soft flesh just under the chin to the hollow of the throat. Recognition swept through him. “She scratched her own neck.”
“Yes.” Dr. Jones motioned toward the victim’s hands. “She has two broken nails. I took scrapings from underneath them and found some blood.”
Bree said, “It must have been deeply embedded if the river didn’t wash it away.”
The ME nodded.
Matt pictured the victim clawing at her own neck. “Something was around her neck. She was trying to pull it off. I don’t see any ligature marks.”
“Correct.” Dr. Jones moved toward the victim’s head and pointed into the neck incision. “While all that was visible on the surface of the skin was slight redness, here you can see a band of hemorrhaging and deeper bruising. The pattern of ruptured blood vessels suggests pressure was applied by something rigid, like a forearm.”
“A choke hold?” Matt asked.
“Probably.” Dr. Jones pointed out specific structures. “But this was a poorly demonstrated technique. There’s also slight damage to the windpipe and trachea. If the choke hold had been properly applied, there would be no damage to these structures.”
“So, she was not strangled?” Bree craned her neck to see.
“Correct,” Dr. Jones said. “The damage to the windpipe and trachea were not enough to compromise breathing. She died due to compression of the neck.”
Matt’s brother was a former MMA fighter, and Matt trained regularly at his gym. He was