Lotus Effect

What were my last words to her?

I look away. Sickness roils my stomach. “Where is the wound located that caused her death?” Cam’s baby was spared. I can see clearly enough to note the killer didn’t inflict the same wound to her torso that I suffered. That would’ve injured the baby.

“Hale, we should leave.” Rhys’s tone conveys his increasing fear. The more I know, the longer I’m here, the worse it becomes for me.

Dr. Keller moves swiftly to uncover the legs. “Here.” He mimics the direction that the weapon took across her thigh. “Right below her pelvis region. Deep enough to sever the femoral artery, but not deep enough to hit the femur.”

“Was it intentional?” Rhys asks.

The ME frowns. “I would have to say yes. Whoever the perpetrator was, he knew enough. This incision was done with a steady hand. No hesitation marks. The location was selectively chosen, also.”

“How so?” Rhys can’t help it; the agent in him has to have answers.

“The victim bled out quickly, but not so quickly to endanger the fetus. I can’t say with one hundred percent conviction that was the intent, but I’ve been doing this a long time.” He wipes his goggles clean. “I trust my instincts.”

A rare statement for a man in the medical field. I glance at Rhys. He harbors respect for those who trust their instincts. It’s one of the main differences between us.

“Thank you for your honesty,” I say to Dr. Keller. He nods his sympathies as I turn to go.

I’m steps away from escaping, but the realization that this is the last time I will see Cam halts my retreat. With a deep, chemical-laced breath, I pull the surgical gown tight around my middle and walk toward the table.

Rhys catches my wrist, and a flash of last night assaults my senses. The imploring I saw in his eyes, the need for me to close the distance between us. His hold on me now pleads for me to stop. Not to torture myself. Don’t let this be my last memory of Cam.

“I’m all right.” I pull away and move closer to the table. “I’m sorry,” I whisp

er to her, only loud enough for me to hear.

I can’t bring myself to promise Cam what I vow to the others—the victims I try to avenge by catching their killers. How can I make that oath to her? How can I, when her murder is so entwined with mine?

I wait on the other side of the partition as Rhys conducts the interview we primarily came here to obtain. Joanna has—momentarily—taken a backseat as my thoughts drift to the moments I shared with Cam.

Paradoxically, I don’t consider myself sentimental, but death has a way of making us just that. We mourn for what can never be again, even when it wasn’t a part of our current story.

It’s the fear of the absolute end. Finality.

It reminds us with a cold, sobering awareness that we’re mortal.

I listen as Rhys goes through the checklist with the pathologist. DNA profile on the vic. What trace was found on the body, if any. Cam’s contusions are congruent with the bruises found on Joanna.

Dr. Keller needs to make the proper comparisons, but he believes the lacerations—the deep cut Cam sustained to her thigh; the cut across Joanna’s ribs—will be a close match. And if so, he can prove the same weapon was used in both crimes.

I step around the partition.

“Can you use pictures to make a comparison?” I ask.

Dr. Keller’s features pull tight. “I can, of course.”

My hands grip the hem of my shirt.

“Lakin…” The dark note in Rhys’s tone makes me pause. His voice breaks at the end of my name. I wonder if it’s because he rarely uses it, or if there’s a painful emotion he’s trying to conceal.

Our eyes meet. “It could help connect the cases,” I say. “We have to know.”

I have to know.

He reads that certainty in my eyes; he knows that whatever happens now, I’m bound to uncover the truth.

Rhys lowers his gaze as I lift my shirt above my bra, exposing the ugly, diagonal slash across my chest.