Page 21 of Dark Angel
The instant dislike that Beth had formed for Lowe was growing by the second. “Do you honestly believe that women choose this profession? Most choose this rather than being homeless and raped on the streets. The problem is that to enable them to cope they turn to drugs and then what had started as a fast-moneymaking idea turns into a vicious circle. They become hooked and have no other way of paying to feed their addiction.”
“They could go to a shelter.” Lowe shrugged. “It comes down to choice in the end, doesn’t it?”
Beth caught Styles’ warning glance but couldn’t let it go. “The chances of gaining a place in a shelter would be minimal in any city. Don’t you think that people would rather be in a shelter than living in a cardboard box under a bridge?” She lifted both hands in the air in exasperation, blew out a long breath, and stared at Styles. “First up, I suggest we go to see the medical examiner who performed the autopsy. Can you give us his name and where to find him, please?”
“It will be on the documents.” Lowe waved his hand toward the file dismissively. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“We’ll need a ride.” Styles straightened to his full height and looked down at him. “Which way to the parking lot, and where do you keep the keys?”
“Keys are on the board over by the door.” Lowe indicated with his chin. “Head straight through the door and you’ll run into the parking lot.” He lowered his voice to a whisper and said something to Styles that she missed.
When Styles turned to stone and just stared at Lowe, Beth could almost feel the air crackling between them. Lowe’s face turned beat red, and he backed away and then headed out of the office with Styles’ stare boring into his back.
“We’ll need a copy of that file.” Styles turned to her. “I guess in this office it’s every man for himself.”
Nodding in agreement, Beth collected the documents, and shoved them back into the file. She went to the copying machine and slid each page through and then stapled them together. She dropped the original back onto Lowe’s desk and looked at Styles. “Let’s go.”
Outside in the parking lot, Beth waited as Styles used the remote to find a vehicle. She turned to look at him. “What did Lowe say to you just before?”
“He was just being a jerk.” Styles led the way to a sedan, opened the back door, and waved Bear inside. “We’ll need to stop on the way and grab a couple of bottles of water. It’s warmer here than I thought.”
Annoyed, Beth walked up behind him. “Being a jerk is a given. What did he say?” When he gave a shake of his head, she touched his arm. “I need to know where I stand here.”
“He suggested I keep my mutt on a leash.” Styles pulled open the door and raised one dark eyebrow. “Forget about it. He’s just a jerk and I figure he got the message, that I didn’t consider a comment like that appropriate.” He slid behind the wheel and turned to look at her. “I just happened to agree with everything you said and I’m not saying that just to keep on your good side.”
Amused, Beth chuckled. “I haven’t got a good side.” She glanced at him. “Surely, you’ve figured that out by now?”
TWENTY-TWO
The medical examiner was a man in his sixties, with graying hair and a handlebar mustache. Styles smothered a grin. The man looked as if he’d just walked out of a historical movie. His long white lab coat hung way past his knees covering brown trousers and matching loafers. He’d given Bear a look of disdain, but on Styles’ command the dog sat down to wait outside in the passageway. The usual stink of a morgue surrounded them as they stepped inside the examination room. The cool air a stark difference from the humidity outside. Styles dipped one finger into the mentholated salve and wiped it under his nose and then handed it to Beth. This was part of the job he didn’t enjoy, especially when young people were involved. It seemed such a waste to see a young person murdered usually just because they happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. He fastened a mask over his nose and mouth and waited in the large room for the ME to slide the body from the refrigerated drawers in the wall. He moved closer alongside Beth and peered at the bloated, discolored face of Scarlett Chester. “Can we get her out of here so I can take a look at her under the light, please?”
Patiently standing to one side as the ME moved the body on the gurney under the light, he allowed his gaze to travel over the victim, searching for any signs of damage. Needle track marks were evident on both forearms and between the toes. He looked up at the ME. “Did you find any signs of a struggle?”
“She has bruises all over.” The ME indicated to a few discolored patches on the surface of the skin. “They’re in different stages of healing, so indicate a recurring factor over a period of time. I would say she was beaten regularly or engaged in rough sex. There are marks across her back, which suggests the use of a leather strap.”
“What exactly is the cause of death?” Beth circled the body slowly, examining every inch.
“She drowned under the influence of heroin.” The ME shrugged. “It happens more than you realize.”
“Did you collect samples of water from the lungs and cross-match them with the river water?” Beth lifted her gaze to stare at him.
“Yeah, I did, and it was a match.” The ME sighed. “I didn’t order a full toxicology screen and just tested for heroin due to the needle track marks on both arms.”
Unconvinced, Styles shook his head. “It would be very unusual for someone to just walk into the river and drown. Are there any injuries consistent to her being thrown off the bridge?”
“Not that I’m aware.” The ME shrugged. “The local PD and the FBI didn’t request any X-rays or MRI scans to determine if she fell or was pushed from the bridge.”
Styles looked at Beth and raised both eyebrows. “Okay, I’ll need her suitably refrigerated and packed for transport. I will also need a copy of your files. We’ll be leaving first thing in the morning. You’ll need to have her at the airport chopper terminal by nine.”
“I haven’t received any requests to release the body.” The ME looked taken aback and covered the body with a sheet. “I can’t do anything without the completed paperwork.”
“I’ll complete any paperwork you require. This girl went missing from Montana. We are taking over the case, and she is going to the Black Rock Falls medical examiner, Dr. Shane Wolfe.” Beth stared him down. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“No, I’ll have her ready.” The ME went to a computer, slipped in a thumb drive and a few minutes later handed it to Styles. “These are the files. You will need to give a copy to Dr. Wolfe.” He went to a drawer and pulled out a document pad. He thrust it toward Beth. “This is the required documentation. You’ll need to complete that before you leave.”
Styles glanced at her. “I’ll go and wash up. I’ll meet you out at the car. I want to sift through those files again.”
“Sure.” Beth leaned against the counter and took the pen the ME offered her. “This won’t take long.”
