wondered how the man stayed sane with the multitude of twisted possibilities surging through his brain. No doubt Callahan questioned how Seth kept his sanity while staring at death all day long.
“Some people would say this was the work of a mass murderer. But those guys usually kill themselves at the scene or hope to go out with suicide by cop.” Callahan looked grim. “You guys are pretty sure it’ll be a phenobarbital overdose, right?”
“We’re waiting on the lab results. But that’s what it looks like. They had the remains of a dairy-based liquid in their stomachs and small intestines. We found the same thing in each stomach. There were no injection sites on any of them.”
Callahan nodded as Seth spoke. The detective knew all this. Seth was repeating what Dr. Campbell had told the police earlier.
“Last one to drink might be the one who’s still alive,” stated Callahan.
“Or maybe she had a smaller dose for some reason. It would lessen the effect of the drug in her system.” Seth shook his head in wonder. “But what does this tell you about the first set of deaths?”
Callahan snorted. “You see my problem. Two crimes. Decades apart. Who did it? And are they even fucking related?”
“I wish we had good autopsy notes on those old deaths.”
The detective nodded in agreement. “You don’t know how frequently I’ve wanted the same thing. But the women were wellon their way to decomposition by the time they were found during the hot summer.”
“That’s one difference,” Seth muttered. “The time of year was different. And these were found so much quicker. Was that deliberate? What happened with the hiker who found this second set?”
“He’s a student at Portland State,” Callahan snorted. “Poor kid’s gonna be traumatized for the rest of his life. Didn’t seem to have too many sharp tools in his shed to begin with, but now he’s nearly a blithering idiot.”
“I take it your interview went well.”
“We’ll talk to him again. He was so shook up he could barely get a word out.”
“He’s a suspect?” Seth asked.
“He’s pretty low on the list.”
“Why? I’d think first on the scene would be an automatic high-level suspect.”
Callahan took a long drag on his beer and raised a brow at Seth. “I don’t recall questioning your slicing and dicing abilities.”
Seth’s hackles rose. “I’m not questioning how you’re doing your job. I’m just trying to understand your process.” He felt like he’d had his wrist slapped. Maybe he could have phrased his question better.
“If you don’t mind, my brain’s a little tired. I don’t feel like rehashing my workday for you. And I won’t ask you to do the same,” the detective said.
The two men sat in silence. Callahan was right, Seth realized. He didn’t owe Seth any explanations. If the cops questioned every discovery he made during an autopsy, it’d drive him nuts.
“Sorry,” Seth said. “I see where you’re coming from.”
“I haven’t slept,” said Callahan. “I want to, but my fucking brain won’t turn off. Was hoping to slow it down in here. I need something to take my mind off the case, and it’s not easy to do. If I find myself thinking about a different subject, I worry I’m not putting a hundred percent of myself into the case.”
“Christ. Give yourself a break. You can’t be on duty twenty-four/seven. What do you do to relax?”
“Relax? What the fuck is that?” Callahan gave a half grin. “I know what’ll get my mind off work. Tell me about Victoria Peres. I’ve worked with her for a few years and know as much about her as I did on day one. Namely, I know she’s tall and don’t piss her off.”
The abrupt topic shift sent Seth’s beer down the wrong pipe and triggered a coughing fit. Callahan unhelpfully pounded him on the back.
“Tori?”
Callahan’s face lit up. “Yeah, how in the hell do you get away with calling her Tori? Most guys I know don’t dare call her
“Some people would say this was the work of a mass murderer. But those guys usually kill themselves at the scene or hope to go out with suicide by cop.” Callahan looked grim. “You guys are pretty sure it’ll be a phenobarbital overdose, right?”
“We’re waiting on the lab results. But that’s what it looks like. They had the remains of a dairy-based liquid in their stomachs and small intestines. We found the same thing in each stomach. There were no injection sites on any of them.”
Callahan nodded as Seth spoke. The detective knew all this. Seth was repeating what Dr. Campbell had told the police earlier.
“Last one to drink might be the one who’s still alive,” stated Callahan.
“Or maybe she had a smaller dose for some reason. It would lessen the effect of the drug in her system.” Seth shook his head in wonder. “But what does this tell you about the first set of deaths?”
Callahan snorted. “You see my problem. Two crimes. Decades apart. Who did it? And are they even fucking related?”
“I wish we had good autopsy notes on those old deaths.”
The detective nodded in agreement. “You don’t know how frequently I’ve wanted the same thing. But the women were wellon their way to decomposition by the time they were found during the hot summer.”
“That’s one difference,” Seth muttered. “The time of year was different. And these were found so much quicker. Was that deliberate? What happened with the hiker who found this second set?”
“He’s a student at Portland State,” Callahan snorted. “Poor kid’s gonna be traumatized for the rest of his life. Didn’t seem to have too many sharp tools in his shed to begin with, but now he’s nearly a blithering idiot.”
“I take it your interview went well.”
“We’ll talk to him again. He was so shook up he could barely get a word out.”
“He’s a suspect?” Seth asked.
“He’s pretty low on the list.”
“Why? I’d think first on the scene would be an automatic high-level suspect.”
Callahan took a long drag on his beer and raised a brow at Seth. “I don’t recall questioning your slicing and dicing abilities.”
Seth’s hackles rose. “I’m not questioning how you’re doing your job. I’m just trying to understand your process.” He felt like he’d had his wrist slapped. Maybe he could have phrased his question better.
“If you don’t mind, my brain’s a little tired. I don’t feel like rehashing my workday for you. And I won’t ask you to do the same,” the detective said.
The two men sat in silence. Callahan was right, Seth realized. He didn’t owe Seth any explanations. If the cops questioned every discovery he made during an autopsy, it’d drive him nuts.
“Sorry,” Seth said. “I see where you’re coming from.”
“I haven’t slept,” said Callahan. “I want to, but my fucking brain won’t turn off. Was hoping to slow it down in here. I need something to take my mind off the case, and it’s not easy to do. If I find myself thinking about a different subject, I worry I’m not putting a hundred percent of myself into the case.”
“Christ. Give yourself a break. You can’t be on duty twenty-four/seven. What do you do to relax?”
“Relax? What the fuck is that?” Callahan gave a half grin. “I know what’ll get my mind off work. Tell me about Victoria Peres. I’ve worked with her for a few years and know as much about her as I did on day one. Namely, I know she’s tall and don’t piss her off.”
The abrupt topic shift sent Seth’s beer down the wrong pipe and triggered a coughing fit. Callahan unhelpfully pounded him on the back.
“Tori?”
Callahan’s face lit up. “Yeah, how in the hell do you get away with calling her Tori? Most guys I know don’t dare call her
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