Don't Look Back by Lynette Eason

Dakota and George discussed his findings, Jamie tuned them out and went back to work on the bones. She desperately wanted to find out who these two women were and offer their families closure.
    In the back of her mind, she registered Dakota’s phone ringing, George leaving with an absent wave. Totally focused on what she was doing, she jumped when Dakota said her name.
    “Oh, sorry, what?”
    “We’ve got another body.”
    “You mean another skeleton?”
    “No, a body. Serena’s with her right now.” Serena Hopkins, the medical examiner Jamie worked with on a regular basis.
    “Okay.” Confusion knit her brow. “Well, if it’s a body, Serena will take care of it. She doesn’t initially need me.”
    “Not to do the examination, but there’s something about this one that you need to know.”
    Jamie stilled, wondering what he was getting ready to say and fearing she wasn’t going to like it. “What?”
    “She’s been branded. Upper left shoulder. The number seventeen.”

11
    Jamie stared down at the woman on the slab before her. “How long has she been dead?”
    The medical examiner, Serena Hopkins, set aside a tool and said, “Anywhere between four to six months is my best estimate, but who knows?”
    “She’s very well preserved.”
    “They found her in the basement of an old warehouse that was scheduled for demolition,” Connor said from her left.
    “A damp area. I wouldn’t expect her to look this good.” If you could call it good with a slashed throat and what remaining skin she had in various shades of unattractive color.
    On her right, Dakota shifted closer. “This particular basement had been converted into a freezer to store dry ice. The owner also rented out the bottom three floors as storage to various places.”
    “So, basically, she’s been packed in dry ice for however long she’s been dead,” Serena concluded.
    Jamie nodded. “Well, that would do it. But why is it no one noticed her until today? How long have they been using that freezer?”
    “The guy I talked to said he rented half the space. Someone else had the other half, but the only thing in the other half was an old freezer and some meat hooks. He never bothered with it and everyone went about their business.”
    “Who was renting the other half?”
    “A guy who was working on starting his own meat packing company. Only it never got off the ground, so when he realized his business was going nowhere, he went to get the freezer and the few other items in there, figuring he could at least sell them to someone and recoup a bit of his investment. Only when he opened up the freezer . . .”
    “He got the shock of his life?”
    “Exactly.”
    Jamie shook her head. “Is Jazz running dental impressions with missing persons reports?” She moved around the table needing to look at the woman’s arm.
    Dakota eyed her. “Yes.”
    Deep breath, Jamie. Her throat tightened. Her lungs felt constricted. Just a little farther and she would be able to see . . .
    . . . number seventeen.
    The raised flesh mocked her, taunted her. She flashed back. He walked toward her, the branding iron smoking red. “You’ll always belong to me now. It’s time to release you from the pain.”
    “What are you doing?” Terror that never left her increased threefold. “It’s time.”
    “For what?” she screamed.
    “The end. I promised you I would make the pain stop.”
    She stared at him. So this was it. He’d brand her and kill her. Cold certainty curled in her stomach. This was the day she would die. His eyes glowed with some manic glee. Excitement at her impending death. Slowly, an idea formed.
    “Who?” she asked, catching him off guard.
    He stopped, some of the excitement fading from those weird eyes. “What?”
    “Who made you stop their pain? Who?”
    He recoiled, pulled the branding iron away from her, and stared.
    His lips moved, but no sound emerged. The hand that held his weapon trembled.
    Then he left, muttering. Something caught