Page 32 of Girl Lost (The King Legacy #1)

Stryker dating? That would be an investigation for another day.

“A student in the program has gone missing. She has a history as a runaway, but we learned that she’s been the recipient of a heart transplant.

Is it possible ... I mean, can you check to see if she would’ve been a match to any of these victims? ”

Santos blinked a few times, and he could tell she was trying to remain professional. “Yes, that’s something I could do, provided you have her medical records. We can start with something basic like blood type.” The phone on her desk rang, and Santos said, “Excuse me.”

She picked up the phone, spoke a few words, then hung up. “Commissioner Tinch is here. He’s waiting outside the lab. If you’ll go ahead and meet him, I’ll get Carlie ready.”

They left her office, and Corbin led Luna to the hallway, where the commissioner paced outside the autopsy room.

The man seemed to have aged a decade in the past few hours.

His usual commanding presence was gone, replaced by slumped shoulders and red-rimmed eyes.

A network of broken blood vessels spiderwebbed across his left cheek.

His heart ached for the man. No one should have to ID their child in a morgue. Though it was better than seeing his daughter’s body in the shallow grave. That was an image that would never be erased from Corbin’s mind.

“Are you ready, sir?”

The commissioner gave a faint nod.

Corbin pushed open the door. The smell of antiseptic cut right through his exhaustion and jolted him awake.

The harsh fluorescent lights of the medical examiner’s office cast an eerie glow over the sterile room where steel examination tables and rows of medical instruments lined the walls.

Luna kept herself close but out of the way. Giving them space.

Dr. Santos greeted them with a somber nod. Her face wore the mask of professional detachment, but Corbin caught the flicker of sympathy in her eyes as she looked at the commissioner. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Commissioner Tinch.”

On the gleaming metal table lay a sheet-covered form. Corbin’s throat tightened. He’d seen countless bodies in his career, but this ... this was different. This was personal. This was failure.

Dr. Santos moved to the head of the table. “Are you ready?”

The commissioner inhaled and released a breath. “Yes.”

Dr. Santos folded back the sheet, revealing Carlie Tinch’s face. A chill snaked down Corbin’s spine, and it had nothing to do with the frigid temperature in the room. He heard the commissioner’s sharp intake of breath.

Carlie looked peaceful, almost as if she were sleeping. Her blond hair fanned out on the table, framing a face that still held traces of childhood softness. She was just a kid.

“Oh, my sweet girl.” The commissioner reached out a trembling hand, stopping just short of touching Carlie’s cheek.

Corbin placed a steadying hand on the older man’s shoulder, feeling the tremors running through his body. In that moment, he wasn’t looking at his boss or the head of the FDLE. He was seeing a father, broken by the loss of his child.

How could God, a loving father, bear to see his children suffer like this?

“I’m so sorry, sir,” Corbin said. “I should have—”

The commissioner cut him off with a sharp shake of his head. “Don’t. Not now.”

Corbin bit back the rest of his inadequate apology. He’d failed, just like his father had failed so many times before. Was this his destiny? To repeat the mistakes of the past, to hurt those he was meant to protect?

“Did they...” The Adam’s apple bobbed in the commissioner’s throat.

“There’s no evidence of sexual assault,” Dr. Santos said.

The commissioner sagged with relief, and Corbin tightened his grip on the man’s shoulder. At least there was that small comfort.

The commissioner’s lips wobbled as he stared at his daughter. “Who ... who could do this?”

“Sir, Dr. Santos has confirmed that Carlie’s vital organs have been removed. We might be looking at a sophisticated organ harvesting operation.”

Dr. Santos stuck her hands in the pockets of her lab coat.

“During my preliminary external examination, I documented Carlie’s unusual weight and noticed the sunken appearance of the torso, both consistent with missing internal organs.

I confirmed this with an X-ray.” Dr. Santos turned to her computer and pulled up a set of images but didn’t bother explaining what each one showed.

“While the official autopsy will provide more detailed information, these observations were enough for me to determine that Carlie’s organs were removed.

I wanted to inform you of this as soon as possible, given the implications for your investigation. ”

“Thank you, Dr. Santos,” the commissioner said. “Agent King, a word.”

Corbin followed the commissioner into the hallway, bracing himself for the man’s anger, his disappointment. But when the older man turned to face him, there was a fire in his eyes that Corbin hadn’t seen in weeks.

“I want you to take the lead on this case, King,” the commissioner said. “Find out who killed my little girl. Find out who’s doing this to these young women.”

Corbin blinked, surprised. “Sir, after what happened at Abercorn’s house ... I thought my job was on the line.”

“That stunt you pulled, taking a civilian to serve that warrant ... you nearly got her killed in that fire. Under normal circumstances, I’d have your badge.”

Corbin’s heart sank, but the commissioner wasn’t finished.

“But these aren’t normal circumstances. You’re the best we’ve got, King. And right now, I need the best.” He placed a hand on Corbin’s shoulder, his grip painfully tight. “Find them. Whatever it takes. But do it by the book. We can’t afford any mistakes, not with something this big.”

Corbin straightened. It was a second chance, one he knew he didn’t deserve. But he wouldn’t squander it. “Yes, sir. I won’t let you down. We’ll find who’s responsible and—”

“No,” the commissioner said, shaking his head. “I don’t just want them arrested. I want to see them face-to-face. I want to look into the eyes of the monster who did this to my little girl.”

Corbin hesitated, understanding the man’s pain but knowing the dangers of such a personal involvement. “Sir, I—”

“This isn’t a request, Agent. This is an order. Find them.” The commissioner started walking away.

“Yes, sir. But sir?”

The commissioner turned to him, eyebrows raised.

“I can’t do this alone.”

“What do you mean?”

Corbin took a step closer. “I know you didn’t want to bring publicity to Carlie’s disappearance, but given what we’ve uncovered ... sir, I think we need to form a task force. This is bigger than any one agent can handle.”

The commissioner’s jaw tightened. He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes distant. “What are you asking?”

“Sir, I’ll need the best,” Corbin said. “Detectives, forensic experts, maybe even someone from the FBI—”

“No.” He stood close to Corbin. Eye to eye.

“I’m the commander of the FDLE, the best law enforcement agency in the state.

We don’t ask for help, we are the help. If the agents under my command can’t solve this utilizing our vast resources of experts, then those agents shouldn’t be working for the FDLE. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Corbin said.

This pride, this insistence on handling it all within the FDLE, wasn’t just arrogance.

It had to be a man stripped bare by the brutal reality of Carlie’s death, clinging to the only semblance of control he could still grasp.

He couldn’t undo the horror, but he could dictate how they hunted the monsters responsible.

It was the only way a man in his position could possibly feel like he wasn’t utterly and completely powerless.

“I want to hear from you end of day,” Tinch said.

“Yes, sir.”

As the commissioner walked away, Corbin leaned against the wall. He closed his eyes. Took a deep breath, then regretted it when his ribs burned.

All he needed was a chance. A chance to make things right. To prove that he wasn’t doomed to repeat his father’s failures as an officer. The evil they now faced was more horrific than anything he’d encountered before, and he needed experts.

He needed his friends.

If Commissioner Tinch didn’t want an interagency task force, he’d have to form one himself. He pushed off the wall, ready to begin the work of assembling his team. Corbin turned back to the morgue doors. Through the small window, he could see Dr. Santos covering Carlie’s body with the sheet.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, because for a moment, just a fleeting instant, he could have sworn he smelled his father’s favorite whiskey. Could almost hear the man’s mocking laughter echoing in the sterile hallway.

Corbin shook his head, banishing the phantom. He had work to do. Lives to save. He’d failed Carlie. Failed the other girls. But he wouldn’t fail again.