Gary knocked on the door frame. “Dr. Linton? We’re ready.”
“I’ll be there in a second.” Sara was back on her phone. She read the words aloud as she typed. “‘Please ask Tommi to call or email me. It is possible that she was right about the photo.’ How does that sound?”
“It depends,” Will said. “Do you want to scare her?”
“Shouldn’t she be scared?”
Will said, “Send it.”
Sara waited for the email to swoosh before sticking her phone into her back pocket.
She told Will, “Gary’s never done an exhumation, so it’s going to go slow, okay?”
“I’m good with slow.”
She held onto Will’s hand as they walked up the hall. Sara didn’t let him go until they reached the supply cabinet. She took out a yellow apron, blue surgical hat, two face masks.
She reminded Will, “With Alexandra McAllister, there were incised wounds made by a tool similar to a razor blade or scalpel. The killer knew the blood would lure predators to the body. The nerves in the brachial plexus were cleanly severed. The spinal puncture was masked, but I know what to look for. I should be able to tell you fairly quickly if Shay Van Dorne exhibits the same patterns of damage.”
“Amanda wants me to let her know ASAP.”
“Does Amanda ever want anything that’s not ASAP?” Sara reached up to Will. She tied the face mask around the back of his neck, saying, “The vault break dissipated most of the odor. You shouldn’t need this, but it’s okay if you do.”
She dressed herself next, wrapping the apron strings twice around her waist. Tucking her hair beneath the surgical hat. Pulling on exam gloves. Will noted the transformation as she prepared herself for Shay Van Dorne. Sometimes, doctors joked around to make light of what was a very grim situation. Sara never joked. She approached every death investigation with an air of respectful solemnity.
Gary had rolled the casket into the anteroom. A clear plastic envelope was taped to the lid. Will saw paperwork and what looked like a window crank that you’d use to open an old aluminum window.
Will loosened his tie. The lights acted as heat lamps boiling the air. They jutted down from the ceiling like robot arms. There were cameras and microphones all around the room, including one that pointed straight down at the casket. A gurney with a folded white sheet and rubber neck block waited for the body. Another table was covered in brown paper to keep the clothes from cross-contaminating. A third table held a magnifying glass and surgical instruments. Gary had laid out a printed copy of Shay Van Dorne’s original accident report. Color photographs from the scene were stacked beside them.
Will hadn’t downloaded the photos from the server. He looked through them now. Shay Van Dorne had been found on her back in the middle of the forest. She had been dressed in a pair of green khakis and a white knit polo. The clothes were shredded where animals had feasted on her breasts, torso and pelvic area. Her lips and eyelids had been chewed off. Part of her nose was gone.
“Ready?” Sara waited for nods all around. She tapped a foot pedal to turn on the cameras and mics. Will heard her run through the date, time, introduce herself and announce who else was in attendance.
He couldn’t help but think of the Leslie Truong video that had played on the ancient VCR last night. Sara had looked so different. Eight years later, even though she was saying basically the same things, she sounded different, too.
“I’ll perform the preliminary exam in this room, then Gary will take the X-rays, then we’ll roll her into the autopsy suite.” Sara was finished with the technicalities. She addressed her next words to Gary. “Most wooden caskets are held closed with a metal clasp. The more expensive models use a lock that requires a hexagonal key.”
He asked, “Like an Allen wrench?”
“Exactly.” Sara peeled the plastic envelope off the casket. She tipped out the crank and held it up. “This is a casket key. The shaft is longer, because it unlocks a metal casket. The lock is always at the foot-end, called the foot panel. The panel covering the upper part of the body is called the lid. Can you feel the rubber gasket?”
Gary ran his gloved fingers along the rim of the lid. “Yes.”
“The gasket seals the casket, but not hermetically. Remember what I told you about off-gassing during decomposition. If the seal on the casket or vault is too tight, then either or both can explode.” Sara walked to the foot of the casket. “Some states require vaults. Others don’t. Keep in mind that people are forced to make burial decisions at one of the lowest points in their lives, so always remind yourself that whatever they choose to do is the best decision they could make for themselves at the time.”
Gary said, “My gramma was a Georgia fan, so we got a red-and-black casket with a bulldog on the top.”
Will wondered if the young man had forgotten about the recording.
Sara obviously hadn’t. She slotted the key into the hole. She continued the lesson, which was just as much for Gary’s benefit as a future jury’s. “Wooden caskets open with a quarter turn to the left. Metal requires several turns. You’re releasing the clamps that hold down the lid and the foot panel. Ready?”
Sara didn’t wait for an answer this time. She braced both hands on the crank. She put her shoulder into the turns. The gasket seal cracked. Will heard a rush of air not unlike the swoosh from an iPhone when an email was sent.
His hand went to the face mask that hung around his neck, but Sara was right. He didn’t need it. The odor he was smelling was the same sickly sweet odor that had emanated from Shay Van Dorne’s body three years ago, when she had been hermetically sealed inside the metal box.
Sara slipped her fingers under the rim of the foot panel. She waited for Gary to do the same with the lid.
They both lifted at the same time.
Will was standing behind Gary, but his height gave him a direct view into the casket.
Shay Van Dorne’s skin looked yellow and waxy. Bloating swelled her neck. Mold blotched her forehead. She was dressed in a black silk shirt and long black skirt. Her brunette hair was lank around her shoulders. Her cheeks were unnaturally pink and full. Her lips, nose and eyelids had been expertly reconstructed with mortician’s wax. Except for the variation in color, Will would’ve never guessed that an animal had ingested them. Make-up didn’t absorb into dead skin.
Her hands were folded over her chest. The fingernails were long and curled. She had held onto a small, lace pouch for the last three years.
Sara carefully removed the pouch. She shook the contents into her hand. Two wedding rings fell out, one a simple band, the other a large diamond.
Will could see tears moisten Sara’s eyes. Her own wedding ring was with Jeffrey’s. She kept them both inside a small wooden box. When Will had first met her, the box had been out on the fireplace mantle. Now, it was on a shelf inside the guest room closet.
Sara told Gary, “You’ll often find personal items with the deceased. Make sure you catalog and photograph them so they can be returned before burial.”
Gary took the pouch and carefully laid it on the brown paper.
“Let’s move her onto the table.” Sara dragged over a footstool.
Gary found another one by the door.
Will leaned against the wall. They didn’t need his help transferring the 115-pound body onto the gurney. Gary lifted her by the shoulders. Sara lifted the legs. Will saw Shay’s hand drop down as she was placed onto the gurney. He looked at her bare feet. The toenails were curved like a cat’s claw. He craned his neck, locating a pair of high heels inside a plastic bag that had been tucked inside the coffin.
Sara said, “The waxy substance you’re seeing on the skin is adipocere. The anaerobic bacterial hydrolysis of fat develops during putrefaction, the fifth stage of death. It’s an urban legend that hair and nails continue to grow. The skin retracts, giving the nails a longer appearance. Embalming fluid can’t circulate into the follicles, so the hair loses its luster.”
Gary moved the casket out from under the cameras and rolled the gurney in its place. He asked Sara, “Why aren’t her shoes on her feet?”
“That’s not uncommon, especially with high heels. Sometimes, you’ll find underwear placed in a bag at the feet. If an autopsy has been performed, you might find a sealed bag containing organs.”
Gary looked taken aback.
“None of that is outside standard industry practices,” she told Gary. “Let’s get her undressed.”
Will kept his back against the wall as they worked. Gary unbuttoned Shay’s blouse and laid it on the brown paper. The bra hooked in the front. The plastic clasp was broken. He carefully peeled it away. Cotton had been shoved into the cup where one of Shay’s breasts was missing. The material had stuck to the open wound. The arm fell away from the body. More cotton was packed into the armpit.