Page 72 of Girl Between (Dana Gray FBI Mystery Thriller #5)

“Saints and Sinners was a few days ago,” Dr. Landry offered when Dana posed the question about the corpse’s peculiar outfit.

“That’s right,” Dr. Cruz recalled. “That could explain the costume.”

“Not necessarily,” Landry argued. “Folks like their artistic freedom around here.”

“True,” Dr. Cruz added, flipping her thick braids over her shoulder. Today, she had bright purple tinsel woven into her intricate burgundy braids. “But two Casquette Girls, and now a saint? I’d say we’ve got a festival killer on our hands.”

“Festival killer!” Landry scoffed. “Now Lena, don’t you think that’s a tad bit premature considering we have 130 festivals a year? We’re talking about two, maybe three bodies. There’s no need to get ahead of ourselves and start a panic.”

Dana spoke up. “Actually, I think Dr. Cruz might be onto something. And they’re not bodies, Dr. Landry. They’re victims. People, who have someone out there missing them. I find it helps to remember that when performing examinations.”

Dana’s comment had rendered both doctors silent.

Dr. Cruz hadn’t mentioned Dr. Landry would be at the morgue when Dana called her this morning.

If she had, Dana might’ve chosen another time to visit.

The bushy-eyebrowed old doctor gave her the creeps.

Though avoiding him on that basis alone would be hypocritical considering she’d been called witch doctor most of her career.

Dana was doing her best to ignore the skin-crawling sensation the volunteer coroner gave her. Choosing to blame stereotyping and Hollywood villain casting for her unease, she focused on why she’d come here.

Besides, sleep had done her wonders. She was in a better headspace today. There was nothing to distract her focus from lending her expertise. It was the least she could do for George and the NOPD after her unprofessionalism at the crime scene yesterday.

Dr. Cruz’s dark eyes sparkled. “What do you see?”

Dana let her keen gaze travel over the ravaged corpse one more time. She still couldn’t deny the victim’s uncanny resemblance to Claire, but she was clear-headed enough to know it was nothing more than an eerie similarity.

This time, Dana was able to survey the carnage with logic and proficiency.

The remains of the long-sleeved white dress had been carefully cut away, revealing the emaciated body of a long-time drug user.

Dana pointed to the dark purple track marks on the woman’s arms and stomach.

“These are probably why she chose to wear a dress with full coverage despite the heat this time of year.”

“Tox-screen confirmed at least three different opioids,” Dr. Cruz concurred. “Including Isoflurane and Polonium 210.”

Dana swore under her breath. “That’s a rare combo. But perfect to perform live autopsies if you need to test organ function.”

Lena swallowed audibly. “ Live autopsies?”

Dana nodded as she ran a gloved finger delicately over the deep blue pattern of hardened veins.

“Our Jane Doe was a habitual drug user. But she hid it, probably why the killer found the need to label her,” she said, pointing to the dress that had been laid out on the adjacent exam table along with the plastic halo headband .

LIAR, LIAR. The crimson words had darkened to a shade of charred brick, but they still stuck out like a beacon to Dana. There was pure rage in that message.

Further examination revealed the letters had been carved through the dress into the woman’s abdomen antemortem. The same was true of the butcher twine that had been used to crudely stitch the woman’s mouth closed. The lacerations in the skin around her lips told the tale of her struggle.

This woman’s death had been anything but swift. She’d suffered immensely.

No one deserved that.

“What was she lying about?” Dr. Cruz pressed.

“That’s the question,” Dana replied. “My guess, our killer thought she was going to be like the other two girls, ripe for harvesting. But upon further examination, he realized he’d made a mistake. He’d taken someone he couldn’t use.”

“How do you mean?” asked Dr. Cruz.

“Prolonged drug use severely damages organs. No organs are missing from this victim. And I see no evidence of transnasal tampering. She suffered blood loss due to her injuries, but no additional blood has been removed. There’s also the fact that this woman has no ligature marks.

She wasn’t bound and held, unlike the first two. ”

“Right, but doesn’t that all point to a different killer?”

“It could, but just like the first two victims, this woman has no defensive wounds. What could that point to?”

“She was drugged before being abducted?” Dr. Cruz guessed.

“Yes. And these festivals are the perfect hunting grounds. A crowded place, where people are overindulging? A killer could easily slip these women something and whisk them away without it seeming out of place.”

Dr. Landry butted in. “That’s a whole lot of conjecture, Dr. Gray.”

“We have a whole lot of victims, Dr. Landry. Do you have any better theories?”

“Well, no, but assuming you’re right, you don’t have much to go on to help you catch this guy. ”

Dana studied the twitchy old man. “What makes you so sure it’s a man?”

“Look at the body,” he said sadly. “Women don’t do this to women.”

Dana hated that she agreed with him. “Despite all the differences in this victim, I think we’re dealing with the same killer or killers as the first two.”

“Actually,” Dr. Cruz said. “It might be more than that.”

“What do you mean?” asked Dana.

Lena scooted her sliding exam stool over to the wall of glistening stainless-steel cabinetry. She pulled open a drawer. “Remember how you told me to look into any past cases with missing organs?”

“Yeah.”

Lena hefted out a stack of dingy green folders. “I think I might’ve stumbled onto something big.”

Dana rushed over, immediately flipping through the stack of folders. “How far back does this go?” she asked anxiously.

“Two years, at least. All Jane Does. I’ve just started, but from the photos alone I see evidence of transnasal craniotomies.”

“I can’t believe this,” Dana admitted, flipping through the dozens of case folders.

“I can’t believe I didn’t see it before,” Dr. Cruz muttered.

“You didn’t know there was something to see,” Dana objected.

Dr. Landry sauntered over, eager to play the patronizing voice of reason. “Now, ladies, there are things to consider before opening up a can of worms like this,” he warned.

“You’re not seriously suggesting we ignore evidence in an ongoing investigation?” Dana accused.

Dr. Landry held his withered hands up. “I’m merely proposing you tread carefully.”

“That sounds like a threat,” Dana countered.

“Dr. Gray, New Orleans may appear like a big city, but we operate more like a small town. Everyone knows everyone. That means if one of us suffers, we all suffer. And this city has had more than its fair share of tragedy. Dredging up past grief that people have barely laid to rest…” Landry paused.

“It’s something that needs to be done with a level of finesse and familiarity an outsider can’t comprehend. ”

“And let me guess,” Dana hedged, arms crossed. “You’re the only one in possession of these skills?”

“Well now that you mention it …”

“If you want to be part of this investigation, which will definitely be federal thanks to Dr. Cruz’s exceptional work, you’re welcome to throw your hat in the ring. But if you’re looking for recommendations, you won’t find any on my end.”

“Dr. Gray, I fear we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” Landry replied defensively. “I assure you I’m on your side here.”

The swinging doors to the exam room whined open, and Jake and George sauntered in. The light from the hall cut rugged silhouettes in Dana’s periphery, but she kept her searing gaze on the shifty man in front of her.

Dr. Landry didn’t flinch under her scrutiny, but that didn’t dissuade her mistrust. “There are no sides in justice. There’s the truth and those in my way of finding it.”

“Then consider me an open book,” he said, arms wide.

Dana’s eyes narrowed. “That remains to be seen.”