Page 15 of Unbearable

“I’m just saying I’m glad my wife isn’t here. I don’t think I can compete with that.”

“Definitely not.”

“Hey,” he growled. When he gave her a gentle shove, she had to force down her laugh.

“Don’t make me kick your ass…again.”

“Next time, I’m setting you on fire. Consider yourself warned.” This time she couldn’t hold in the laugh that bubbled up. How was it possible this man was slowly growing on her?

“This is me,” she said. Knox pulled up to the curb so she could get out. “About seven. Bring food.” She slammed the car door closed before he could answer and walked into the police station.

Getting through security always took longer than she thought it should. But then, better safe than sorry she guessed. Her first stop was the coffee station in the break room.

Contrary to popular belief, the coffee was pretty decent. It was also free, which made any coffee better. Dumping powdered cream and sugar in it, she carried it to her office.

A wiggle of the mouse brought her computer to life. There were plenty of emails in her inbox, but nothing about the fingerprints she’d sent over.

She pulled up the NCIC (National Crime Information Center) database and input all of the information on the victim. At least everything she had right now: height, weight, approximate age, hair color, race, sex. Anything else about the man would have to wait for Sean to share with her.

While she waited for the autopsy, she pulled a new notebook down. It would be the start of everything they knew about the death.

Her initial notes were the first thing added to the book. She also printed off the crime scene photos the moment they hit her inbox. Each one was added to the book. She even drew a crude diagram of the area surrounding the body. No one would accuse her of being an artist, but it wasn’t half bad. She slid it into one of the page protectors.

The phone on her desk rang, and she snatched it up. “Homicide, Addams.”

“Can you come to the morgue right now, Detective?” Sean asked.

“I thought you said one?”

“There’s something you need to see.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in twenty.” She hung up. Taking a minute to text the change of plans to Danny, she chugged her coffee. She tossed the cup and picked up her keys. With any luck, the traffic would be light this time of day. The medical examiner’s office sat in the middle of the Boston University Medical Campus. There was always road construction or congestion, no matter what time of day.

The drive took her twenty-five minutes to go the thirteen miles. Finding parking took another ten. Sean was waiting in his office when she finally arrived. Per normal, he looked cool and perfectly coiffed to her hot and sweaty. He stood when she knocked on the doorframe.

“You said you had something to show me?” she asked.

“Follow me.” He led her through the offices to the basement where examinations were performed. She nodded to several of the other doctors she knew as they approached a table with various things neatly bagged and labeled. Sean stopped andpicked up one of the bags. “Take a look at this,” he said, handing it to her.

She flipped the small, clear bag over in her hand. Inside was a medallion strung on a black piece of leather cord. The medallion itself was silver without much wear. She guessed, like the first one, this medal could be found anywhere. They’d still search for where it was bought anyway.

“It’s like the one our last guy had only different,” she noticed.

“I’d guess it’s also a religious medal, but which saint I have no idea,” Sean answered. “I thought I’d leave that to you guys.”

“They have to mean something, I just don’t know what.”

“Here’s the weird thing. About a month ago, Detective Bianchi had a body in here that had a similar medallion to your two. Might be a coincidence, but then…” He shrugged.

“Yeah, thanks.” Her mind reeled with questions. She needed to find Bianchi. What were the chances of three deceased bodies being found with nothing but a religious medallion in a month? “Any idea where he was found?”

“Don’t remember. I do remember, though, that it was a homicide. His tongue was removed.” She looked up at him sharply. “I’ll know more after the autopsy this afternoon,” he said, holding his hands up before she could argue that he start it now.

“Okay, I’ll go find Bianchi.” She turned to leave, and Sean snatched the bag from her hand.

“This still goes to trace,” he said.

“I’ll be back at one.”