we don’t even know the identity of the victim yet. Well, we do, I guess, but it’s not official.”
“And on that note,” said Denise. “I’ll let you two get back to work.”
“Bye, babe,” said McGaven. “I mean, Denise.”
“Bye,” she said and was gone.
“Oh brother,” Katie said.
“What?”
“You guys are too cute.”
“Give me a break…”
Flipping open Hamilton’s case file, Katie quickly perused the information. “There’s not much here beyond what we already know. Except he has the names of all the workers and the foreman. But…”
“But what?” McGaven asked looking at Katie.
“You said Magnum Development?”
“Yeah.”
“Here, it says that the demo company is Edison, Fullerton, and Taylor Demolition Company.”
McGaven scrolled through the computer. “I don’t see that name anywhere connected with Elm Hill Project.”
“Maybe it’s nothing, but…”
The internal office phone rang.
Katie picked up the receiver, “Scott.”
“Detective Scott, this is Dr. Dean.”
“Yes, Dr. Dean, what can we do for you?” Katie’s heart skipped a beat. For the medical examiner to call her this quickly, it meant something very important.
“Do you have time to come to the morgue?” he asked.
“Of course, we’ll be right there.”
“See you soon,” the medical examiner said. “Bye.” He hung up.
Katie returned the phone to its cradle on the desk.
“What?” McGaven impatiently asked, waiting for her response.
“We’ve been summoned to the morgue,” she said.
Six
Monday 1545 hours
At the morgue, Katie and McGaven rushed around the corner and down the hallway where they almost careened into a couple of morgue technicians heading in the opposite direction. Whether Dr. Dean had their first clue or their first dead end, Katie couldn’t wait to hear.
Once they entered through the main door, they automatically slowed their pace as Katie led the way down the hallway, through large double doors, and then on toward one of the examination rooms where she spotted Dr. Dean leaning over a desk writing notes, their victim’s body exposed on a stainless steel exam table beside him. Katie instinctively felt the urge to cover her, to keep her warm and give her back some dignity.
“Dr. Dean?” said Katie quietly, as though she might wake the sleeping girl beside her.
The middle-aged doctor looked up and smiled. Taking his gold-rimmed glasses off, he greeted them. “Ah, Detective Scott and Deputy McGaven. Please come in.”
Returning his glasses, he finished signing a few documents and then closed the file, looked up and removed his glasses once again. It had been a while since his last haircut, which left his curly dark hair too long and unruly. Underneath his white lab coat, his usual choice of work clothes were a Hawaiian shirt, khaki cargo shorts, and rubber sandals. “Thanks for meeting me here so quickly.”
“Have you been able to confirm her identity?” Katie asked. She wanted to get right to the point—the sooner the better.
The doctor took a deep breath and said, “Yes, and no.”
“I’m sorry?” she said, her enthusiasm dwindling.
He grabbed one of the folders labeled Candace Harlan and retrieved some dental x-rays labeled “Crossroads Plaza Dental” and placed them alongside a set of x-rays already attached to the light board.
Katie glanced at them. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be seeing but studied each dental map as if she did.
“Here are Candace Harlan’s dental records; she had some work done about ten months ago. And here are the dental images I took from the body brought in earlier.”
Katie tried to hide her excitement that Candace had been alive just ten months ago, not to mention her first lead – a visit to the dental office.
“But, here’s the problem. The victim isn’t Candace Harlan.”
Shocked, Katie responded, “What?” Everything in her calculating investigative mind said that the murder victim was Candace Harlan. The location. Her approximate age and size. It all made sense. It had to be her.
“I know, it threw me at first too. But…” He pointed at both sets of x-rays. “The victim’s incisors are different, with a slight imbalance here on the left side, and she still has her wisdom teeth, unlike Candace Harlan.”
McGaven studied them. “They don’t match.”
“I’m sorry, but you’ve lost me,” Katie said, still stunned.
Dr. Dean smiled. “The woman you see on the table isn’t Candace Harlan.” He shuffled through more paperwork. “Like Candace, your victim is a healthy female, between twenty and twenty-five, five foot seven inches tall, 120 pounds, hazel eyes, but she is not Candace Harlan.”
Katie nodded.
“Okay…” started Dr. Dean. He moved the table at an angle and began his dissertation on his findings. “This is my preliminary examination, but I think it will help you