Angie couldn’t jettison the anger and opted to remain silent.
Eva hurried to say, “There is a custody hearing tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I know. Her last attorney didn’t tell her about it until yesterday.”
“Okay.”
“Lulu and her mother are to meet before the judge who is deciding which one will get the boy.”
“There are plenty of other attorneys out there.”
“Yeah, I know. But she came to me and asked me about you. She wants you.” Eva pulled out a picture and handed it to Angie.
It was a photo of a boy, maybe six months old. He had bright blue eyes, a sloppy drooling grin that made Angie’s heart wince.
“The kid really loves his mother,” Eva said in a quiet voice. “Lulu has visitation, and she went to see him last week. He misses her.”
She handed the picture back to Eva. “I’m sure he does love her.”
“Lulu’s mom is great. But she’s not well.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“I don’t know for sure. But she has that sick, pale look like Mom had before she was diagnosed.”
After Frank had divorced Angie’s mother, Marian, he’d sued for and won custody. The agreement dictated that Angie only saw her mother one Saturday a month. She’d not been around her mother and Eva much, and by the time her mother had gotten sick she’d already left for college. Her father had not told Angie about her mother’s illness until she was dying.
As a kid, she’d wanted her mother so much at times. Too many nights, she’d cried herself to sleep.
Angie cleared her throat. “I’m not making any promises, Eva. I can’t make any decision until I see Lulu.”
Eva’s eyes brightened. “But you will see her.”
Angie rose, moved to her briefcase, and pulled out a black leather-bound calendar. She flipped a couple of pages. “You said the hearing is tomorrow?”
Eva rose. “Yes. Thursday. Twelve noon.”
“We don’t have much time.”
“No.”
“I’ve got time today at one p.m. Have her come by the office. And tell her not to be late, Eva. Because at this point I’m looking for an excuse to say no to her.”
Eva nodded. “I will tell her.” She hoisted her backpack on her shoulder. “Thanks, Angie. I know you’re doing this for me.”
“I am.”
“I appreciate it.”
Satisfaction elbowed its way through the nagging mixed feelings. “You are welcome.”
“I better get going. I’ve got an early class and then the lunch shift at King’s.”
“Why do you still work at King’s? With your brains you could work anywhere.”
Eva shrugged, no hint of doubt in her gaze. “I like King and his kid, Bobby. Feels like family there. And that’s worth more to me than anything.”
Angie understood. “What about that boyfriend of yours, Garrison?”
“What about Deacon?”
No need to mention that Garrison had helped Kier track Angie down this morning. He’d been doing his job. “He’s got to feel like family.”
“Sure, when we’re together. But there is a lot to keep us apart. School. His work. My work. And we fought last night.”
What wasn’t she saying? “Trouble?”
“No.” She hesitated. “Just busy.”
Angie didn’t press. She wasn’t crazy about the fact that her sister had jumped into a serious relationship. Eva should be focused solely on herself. But as much as she wanted to share her more candid opinions, the time and distance they’d spent apart had created a chasm they’d not fully bridged. Some moments she just didn’t feel like she had the right to push.
“You’ll let me know if I can help?”
“Always.”
Chapter 6
Wednesday, October 5, 11 A.M.
Malcolm and Garrison arrived at the Commonwealth’s Northern District medical examiner’s office. Though the center was located in the neighboring county, the office served the entire Northern Virginia area, which included Alexandria.
They pushed through the metal doors on Dr. Henson’s floor. Immediately, the strong scent of bleach greeted them as they moved down the tiled hallway. Fluorescent bulbs cast a bright, if not antiseptic light on the entire floor.
Malcolm hated this place. He hated the smell, the gray tones, and the feel of death that hovered here. This place was a necessary evil that he would endure for the case.
He checked his watch. “Henson has had the bones seven hours. She said she’d get right on them.”
Autopsies often required a twenty-four to forty-eight-hour turnaround at best, but if Henson said a case rose to the top of her list, it did.
They reached the last set of doors and pushed through. They found Dr. Henson in Examining Room Three. She wore green scrubs, a mask with an eye guard, and a cap. She leaned over a stainless-steel exam table that now held the bones laid out in anatomical order. Her assistant Bruce, also dressed in scrubs, stood with a clipboard in hand.
“Dr. Henson,” Malcolm said.
She glanced up. “Detectives.”
“Thought we’d swing by and see if you’ve made progress.”
“I only just received the dental records from Ms. Day’s dentist and was preparing to compare them to the teeth in Jane Doe’s mouth. It might take me another few hours before I can get to it.”
“Anything you can tell us so far?”
“My earlier assumptions were correct. Female. Mid-twenties. She had healthy bones. Didn’t suffer from malnutrition, and she did have good dental care. She had veneers put in fairly recently.”
“Sierra’s husband said he paid for his wife’s veneers,” Malcolm said.
She cocked a brow. “Really?”
Moving to a desk, she picked up a manila file, pulled x-
rays, and stuck them on a light box. “Might as well have a look now.”
Henson leaned into the film. “Sierra did have veneers. And also she had two fillings. Both in the back right molar.”
She turned to the skull and examined the teeth. “Veneers and right back molar with two fillings.”
Malcolm leaned in. “So you’re saying this is Sierra Day?”
“I’ll run DNA on the marrow to be one hundred percent certain.”
“You and I both know that will take weeks or months.”
“She has very distinctive teeth. If I had to call it now, I’d say this was Sierra Day.”
“Sierra Day has only been missing ten days. That’s not enough time for Mother Nature to strip the bones.”
Henson nodded. “Not given the current climate. Too cold.” She picked up a bone. “No trauma to the bones at all. In fact, I see no signs of saw marks or ax marks that would suggest she’d been hacked apart.”
“She didn’t just fall apart, Doc.”
Wisps of red hair peeked out from the edges of Henson’s cap. “Well, if you strip the flesh and tendons from the bones, then there is nothing to hold them together, and they do fall apart.”
“How do you do something like that? Acid?”
“I don’t think acid was used. Acid would have left marks on the bones. If I had to guess I’d say the flesh was soaked off.”
“Soaked?”
“It’s a common process.”
Malcolm rested his hands on his hips. “For who?”
“Companies that process animal bones for museums. You ever been to an exhibit and seen a display with an animal skeleton?”
“Sure.”
“Well, I can promise you that those bones did not arrive from nature all clean, white, and odor free.”
Garrison glanced at the bones on the table, which had a yellowish hue. There was no stench or sign of flesh. “These are not pristine by any stretch of the imagination.”
“Well, there are a few more steps. Next is the beetle tank. The bones are laid in a tank full of flesh-eating beetles, which eat remaining traces of flesh from the bones. These bones are clean of flesh so likely made it through step two. Then there is the whitening and bleaching process. These bones have a dull cast, so I’d say they haven’t been bleached.”