if this is your friend, her fingerprints are in the system, since she works on the Hill. I believe the corp—the young woman was not... Well, it may take them time to get prints, but I can find out where the ME is with that.”
He made the calls as she drove. They reached the OCME and a receptionist was waiting to let them in. Adam was familiar with the morgue and led her down a hallway.
They were met by the man she’d seen on television. She was tall, but he seemed to tower over her. She tried to remember the name she’d heard on TV. Agent...Boswell or something like that.
It didn’t matter. Adam introduced them. He was Special Agent Matthew Bosworth. He was polite but restrained during the introduction, and assured Adam that Dr. Wong was already there, prepared to show the body.
Meg was brought into the room where the woman lay. The air was pungent with the combined scent of disinfectant and decomposing flesh. She swallowed fiercely to fight her gag reflexes. She’d seen death before, but never like this.
It was difficult to view the body...
She had to. She began to shake. Tears welled in her eyes.
“Is it your friend?” Agent Bosworth asked her.
Matt had long been accustomed to the horrors in this world and yet every time he saw the handiwork of a killer he felt as though his heart and soul had been torn apart. All that made it bearable was the fact that he confronted those monsters. Someone had to, and perhaps because of his own past, he was more determined to confront them than others.
Yet watching Meg Murray as she stared at the dead woman seemed more wrenching than dealing with death himself.
He wondered if she really could make an identification—the corpse was so mottled and distorted with swelling and decomposition.
Even Dr. Wong, who spent far too many hours gazing upon the horrors inflicted on one person by another, seemed moved as he studied the young woman. But Wong didn’t usually get to observe, up close, what seeing the ravaged body of a victim did to those who had cherished that victim in life. Making the whole situation even harder was the fact that Meg was one of them now. And she had a past with Adam Harrison, although Matt knew very little about it.
Wong cleared his throat.
As he did, Matt remembered when it had been his turn to stare down at the dead, dreading the possibility that the remains would belong to someone he loved.
He glanced over at Adam, who was looking back at him.
Matt set a hand on Meg Murray’s shoulder. “Is it your friend Lara?” Meg was straight and tall—and shaking. She had enormous and striking blue eyes. She blinked hard, trying not to betray emotion. Watching her was painful; she was beautiful but seemed fragile, yet she also had the rigid stance and stoic control of a hardened law enforcement officer.
He forced himself to be just as impassive. The seconds ticked by.
He wondered if she’d heard his question.
“No.”
She was shaking even more badly now.
She turned suddenly, almost colliding with him. He was afraid she’d fall and awkwardly tried to comfort her, holding her upright, patting her back.
“No, no,” she said. “It’s...it’s not Lara.”
Her hair smelled sweetly clean. For a moment, when she clung to him, her body racked with emotional spasms, he felt as if they’d been transported from the decay of the morgue to the realm of daylight and life.
“You’re sure?” he asked huskily.
She nodded.
“You realize that the face and body have been badly...compromised,” he began.
“It’s not her. I’d know Lara.”
She took a huge breath and steadied herself, shoulders straightening as she moved back, and shrugged with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I just...”
“It’s fine,” he said.
“I was so afraid...” Her voice shook. “I should have better control.”
“We should never have complete control. We wouldn’t be human,” he said.
Matt had never met her before tonight, but he’d heard about her. Unless circumstances brought them a perfect candidate for the Krewe, Adam and Jackson introduced prospective agents they’d heard about to the rest of the group—and then the possibility of an interview was broached. They were a tight clan.
They spoke freely among one another.
But just one another.
They were closemouthed, careful to smile casually when other agents teased them about being the supernatural crowd. If they responded, it was merely to say that they considered all possibilities on a case. He’d first heard about Meg—or Margaret Colleen Murray—in a meeting. Adam had mentioned that a “prospect” was coming through the academy.
If she was on Adam’s radar, there had to be a reason.
“Well, then, there’s hope,” Adam said. “Meg? Don’t you agree?”
She’d been looking at Matt with an expression of relief mixed with horror. She turned to Adam and shook her head. He stepped forward with her, urging her closer to the corpse.
“You’re sure?” he asked, just as Matt had.
Meg seemed frozen for a minute or two, then reached out and gently touched the dead woman’s arm. “Yes...”
“My heart bleeds for this poor girl,” Adam told her quietly, “but as Matt said, at least there’s hope for your friend Lara.”
Matt sent Adam a silent question, gesturing toward the door.
“Shall we go?” Adam suggested. “Dr. Wong, thank you.”
Matt followed Adam and Meg out to the hallway, thanking Wong for coming back in at a moment’s notice that night.
“It’s difficult, huh?” Wong shook his head. “I’m very glad for Agent Murray—but it means other people out there will mourn this woman. I wonder sometimes what I was doing when I decided to become a medical examiner. There’s an old joke about doctors who go that route. As an ME, you can’t make fatal mistakes—because your patients are already dead. But...I like to think that at least we speak for the dead, that we’re a voice. The voice that may lead to justice.”
“Yours is the voice that leads to justice,” Matt declared.
Wong nodded slowly. “There’s something off about this. I can’t quite figure out what it is.” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “When I have both bodies here, maybe I’ll see it.”
“Keep me posted.”
“You
