AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He wasn’t fully sure how she was connecting the doll facing her with the eyes. Other than the doll was looking, and Violet felt lurked on. “Is he obsessed with sight? Did they see something? Does he look at things he shouldn’t—like the women? You think it’s about the eyes—the watching. The seeing?”
“And those numbers. The numbers mean something. But they’re odd. I don’t think they’re meant for us to understand. I mean, if anyone can figure it out, it’ll be Ty. They’re carved. Painfully. Like a mark. Deep enough it hits skull bone.”
John lightly clutched her forearm, terror for her rising in his throat. “Violet, if someone broke into your room and took personal items, we need to tell Asa. Tell the entire team. He may be marking you.”
“Maybe,” she murmured again.
“Are you not worried?”
“Worried? No. Concerned...definitely.” She retrieved a small round container of breath mints and took one then passed him the container. He’d rather know what they tasted like by tasting her. Completely awkward timing to be thinking it, but he suspected it had been simmering long before.
“What?” she asked as he accepted the mint.
“Nothing. Just concerned.” Where was this Aunt Hossie? Did she even exist? Someone was providing breakfast for them in the mornings. If not the ailing aunt, then who? Had she seen anyone?
“I’d like to know who has free access to the home besides Regis,” Violet said.
“What if it’s Regis?”
“Then we act like nothing is happening. Tipping him off will only play into what he wants. If I don’t show him fear or even a whiff of caring, it’ll anger him. I’d like to see if I can make him angry.” A thrill danced in her eyes. “If we question Aunt Hossie, she’ll tip him off, so for now, we keep this between us.”
“But it may not be Regis. She might have seen someone else in the house, someone else familiar that wouldn’t concern her but would help us.”
“I feel like we’re a step ahead. For once. I’d like to stay a few steps in that direction. Give me twenty-four hours, and if we haven’t caught him dead to rights, we talk to Hossie.”
John reluctantly agreed.
“Let’s get this autopsy and interview over with.”
They entered the building, passed the pitiful security and walked down a hall to the morgue. Inside the stainless-steel, sterile room, the scent of death, decay and cleaning fluids whacked his senses and his stomach churned. He curled his nose and noticed Violet’s face was stoic.
They entered, but Dr. Crocker wasn’t present. Dr. Lanslow stood in his place, and when he saw Violet his face blanched and he swallowed hard.
“Where’s Dr. Crocker?” she asked in her husky tone.
“He—uh—got called away.”
Violet surveyed him until he squirmed.
“Do you want to know about Nadine?”
“We do.” John scooted up and stared at the victim.
“She died before she could pull out all the sutures. One eyelid is intact, giving us a better idea of the skill of the sewer. It’s good for the most part, but the stitches closest to the corner of her eye appear a little sloppier.”
Violet leaned in, and he brought down a magnifier for her to get a better look at the sutures. “He might have been in a hurry. He didn’t linger long enough to see her rip out the ones on her other eye.”
“I don’t know.”
“I wasn’t asking,” she stated without looking at Dr. Lanslow. “Sexual assault?” She glanced up when he didn’t respond. “I’m now asking.”
“Right. No evidence of that, but she recently had intercourse. I’d say within twenty-four hours of her death.”
Same pattern as with Atta Atwater, and likely Tillie LeBeau and Darla Boone.
“I’m back.” Dr. Crocker hurriedly entered the room. “I can take it from here, Doctor.”
Dr. Lanslow paused then moved aside.
