Nowhere to Run (Stephanie Carovella) (7 page)

Cynthia nodded her affirmation, seeing the play of emotions on Gena’s usually stoic face. “Yes, multiple times. The tearing indicates at some stage he used a foreign object.” She paused. “I haven’t determined what yet, but he did it more than once. She was pretty torn up inside.”

Gena and Cynthia both fell silent, neither unable to talk, as they surveyed the dead woman’s bruised and broken body. Clearing her throat, Gena asked huskily, “Do we know the cause of death?”

“The deep cut to her throat was the predominant cause, but here’s where it gets really interesting,” Cynthia said, her eyes sparkling in excitement.

“So, you
have
found something?” Gena asked in amusement, her own interest peaked.

“I did,” Cynthia confirmed with a smile. She leaned forward again, and indicated to the victim’s neck. “Do you see where her throat’s been slit?” She waited for Gena to step closer to the table, watching her lean down to study the victim’s throat.

“Yeah, I see. And, your point is?” Gena asked in irritation, not understanding what she was supposed to be seeing. “Do we know yet what kind of weapon was used?”

“My guess is a sharp knife,” Cynthia said, grinning when Gena rolled her eyes. “I haven’t worked out what type of knife yet, but as soon as I know, you will too.”

“Well what did you find then? What am I supposed to be looking at, Cyn?”

Cynthia ignored the frustration in Gena’s voice, her eyes trained on the victim’s throat. Leaning over the body, she touched the exposed cut to the victim’s neck. “Gena, where her throat was slit, there’s evidence of scar tissue.” She traced the edges of the cut with her fingers.

“What the hell do you mean by scar tissue?” Gena asked incredulously. “Are you telling me what I think you’re god damn telling me?”

Cynthia nodded, her voice calm. “It looks like someone tried to slit her throat once before. The scar tissue is evidence of this. Whoever killed her slit her throat in the exact spot it was cut once before.”

Gena rocked back on her heels, slowly pulling a notepad out of her jacket’s pocket and scribbling notes into it, smiling grimly.

“This could mean a number of things. Either someone was finishing a job they started, or they figured slitting her throat in the same place would not only hurt her physically, but emotionally too. If our victim previously suffered a similar attack then our killer might have felt slitting her throat in the same place would send her over the edge. I guess you could say he was delivering the ultimate mind-fuck.” Gena paused, her mind racing as she scribbled notes into her pad. “Then we have the previous attack. Even if this isn’t Carolyn Mathers, knowing she was previously attacked will help us. This is good news, Cyn. We can check previous records to see if there was a similar attack in the past. Even if the crime wasn’t reported, we can check hospital records. We’ll look for anything to give us a clue as to who attacked this young woman.”

“It’s so sick,” Cynthia said, gently pulling the blanket back up to cover up the woman up to her shoulders. “If it’s any consolation, she died straight away from the cut to her throat. Whoever cut her throat did it swiftly. She never stood a chance.”

“Thanks Cynthia,” Gena said, closing her notepad. She walked towards the door, but paused. She turned halfway and looked at the victim again.

“I’ll let you know when I find something,” Cynthia promised. She watched Gena give her a curt nod and walk away, before she glanced down at the female corpse, covering her up further. Her breath hitching in her throat, she ducked her head, tears blurring her vision.

Taking a deep breath, she removed her gloves, hastily wiping away her tears. After five years as a Medical Examiner, she was still affected by some of the victims who crossed her path. It made her job so much tougher and inch by inch it was making her more jaded.

Shaking her head, she stared down at the Jane Doe in front of her. She shouldn’t complain though. Some peoples’ days were even worse. They ended up dead on an examination table, their innards displayed for all to see, while some stranger deciphered what happened to them. It just wasn’t right.

She sighed again. She needed a holiday.

Chapter Six

Stephanie watched the people milling into the church, smiling softly at the variety of characters here to mourn Angel. She certainly had led an interesting life and gathered a lot of interesting friends along the way. It never mattered to her who they were, where they came from or what they did for a living. She hadn’t cared if they’d been Lawyers, Strippers, Musicians, Actors, Doctors, Joe Blows or even a Dominatrix, like herself.

She wrapped her arms around herself. She missed Dominic. Today, more than ever, she missed him. She wished desperately that he was here to hold her up and tell her everything was going to be okay. The impact of what she’d lost when she lost him hit her a little harder today. A hand touched her shoulder. She turned to see Ben and Ana standing behind her.

 “Are you ready to go in yet?” Ana asked softly, taking in Stephanie’s pale face and the overwhelming grief in her amber eyes.

Her expression one of pain, Stephanie said in a choked voice, “No, not yet.”

Ben nodded in understanding, wrapping his arm firmly around Stephanie’s shoulder in support. “Ana, why don’t you go inside? I’ll stay out with Steph for a little while longer.”

Ana paused, watching the two of them, before she nodded. Touching Stephanie’s arm briefly, she leaned up and kissed Ben, turning and walking towards the church doorways.

“This feels so wrong, Ben,” Stephanie whispered; a wave of pain vibrating through her.

Ben drew Stephanie into his arms, pulling her tightly to him, smiling when she leaned her head against her chest.

“I know babe. I feel it too,” he whispered back, grazing his lips across her temple.

“She would have hated all of this. She would have hated being shoved into a wooden box, and mourned in a church,” she continued dully, as if she hadn’t even heard him speak.

“The only time Angeline ever went to church was the one night she broke into a local church and had sex on the altar table,” Ben said, his voice choked with laughter.

“Exactly. This – this wasn’t the kind of funeral she wanted,” Stephanie said, slipping out of Ben’s arms.

“I know that. You know that, but Angel’s parents felt this was the most respectable way for her to be mourned. They didn’t like her idea of turning up the music, and getting roaring drunk.”

Stephanie snorted, twisting around to glare at Angel’s parents who stood, at the church entrance, greeting people. “They didn’t approve of anything she did while she was alive, so why the hell would they start now that she’s dead?”

Closing her eyes, she whispered fiercely, “This feels so wrong. This feels wrong to be burying yet another loved one of ours. What did we do Ben? What the hell did Dominic and Angel ever do to deserve to die so young?”

Ben cursed, pulling her back into his arms, and holding her tightly. He could feel tremors racing through her body, as she gripped his upper arms for support. Stephanie continued brokenly, “I don’t know if I can go in there and deal with what Angel’s parents think is respectable. Not when the way she died was with so little respect. Not when I know her killer is still out there. Not when I can’t help but wonder if her killer is here today, amongst her friends, mourning her.”

Rubbing his hands on her back in soothing, circular motions, he crooned, “Babe, it’s going to be okay. Why don’t we just sit here for a little while longer? We’ll go in when you’re ready. Okay?”

Stephanie raised pain-filled eyes to his, whispering softly, “No Ben, it’s not okay. It’s never going to be okay. We’re never going to be okay again.”

Ana stood at the front of the church’s doors, watching Ben hold Stephanie close. She smiled sadly. She felt like an interloper. She’d loved Angel as much as any of them, but Ben, Stephanie, Dominic, Jesse and Angel had been the famous five. Together they’d been able to do anything, and everything. They’d been invincible.

She’d been their tag-along, the latecomer to the group. Now both Dominic and Angel were gone, and there were only three of them left. And, she was still standing on the outside. She was still their tag-along.

Ben was shutting her out. She knew he loved her in his own way, but it stung her deeply to see him comforting Stephanie. It stung because she needed his support just as much, and he didn’t even realize it. Stephanie needed him and because it was Stephanie he would automatically comfort her without even thinking about
her
needs. She just wished for once that she’d come first, instead of his friends.

“You know he loves you,” Jesse said from behind her.

“Maybe so, but it’s not the same,” she said quietly, crossing her arms across her chest.

“What do you mean the same?” he questioned, his gaze moving towards Ben and Stephanie stood.

“As the way he loves her,” she said sadly, not looking at him. “He loves her, you know. He always has.”

“No Ana, he loves you,” Jesse argued softly.

Ana nodded in agreement. “Yes I know. He loves me, just not like the way he does her. He’ll never love me the way he loves Stephanie.”

Turning slightly, she pasted a bright smile on her face. Her smile dimmed at the sight of Jesse in a suit. “That’s a first. The last time I saw you in a suit,” she paused. “I don’t even know the last time I saw you in a suit.”

Jesse’s smile was grim, tearing his eyes off Ben and Stephanie, he reminded her gently, “It was at Dominic’s funeral.”

“Dominic’s funeral, of course it was,” Ana whispered, laughing bitterly. “That’s the irony of it, Jesse. Ben loves her and she still loves Dominic. Even after all this time, he’s still the only man she loves. The only man she will ever truly love.” She broke off bitterly, seeing his pained expression.

Lifting her hand to her mouth, she whispered softly, “Oh Jesse, I’m sorry. I forgot that you love –”

Jesse shook his head, silencing her. “Ana, Ben knows you’re hurting too but he needs to comfort Stephanie. He feels he has to. I feel the same way, and I know she feels the same need to comfort us. It’s just the bond between us,” he said with a shrug.

“It’s unbreakable. I know this already. I just wish he wasn’t shutting me out,” Ana said, bitterness creeping back into her voice. “I just wish for damn once,
she
didn’t come first.”

Sighing heavily, she shook her head. Turning, she smiled apologetically at Jesse. “I’m sorry Jess. I didn’t mean to sound like the jealous girlfriend, and usually I’m not. It’s just with Ben and Stephanie…” Ana bit out a sob. “I shouldn’t even be reacting like this. Not today, of all days.”

Jesse wrapped his arms around her, drawing her gently to him. “It’s okay, Ana. You’re allowed to mourn for her, too.”

Ana nodded, finally letting her tears flow freely. She pressed her face into his chest, her voice small. “I just miss her so damn much, Jesse. It’s so unfair. She shouldn’t have died, not like that.”

***

Stephanie reluctantly pulled herself from Ben’s arms, stepping back to wipe her eyes. She studied the people entering the church, her gaze briefly landing on where Ana and Jesse stood, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Her gaze hardened, before it continued to slide over the mourners. It stopped on where a solitary man stood. Dressed completely in black, he stood apart from everyone else.

Unable to tear his gaze off him, she nodded her head towards the stranger, asking softly, “Ben, who’s that?”

“That’s Devlin, Angel’s significant other,” Ben said; his lip curling in disgust.

“Devlin – I thought Angel was dating someone named Jase,” Stephanie said slowly.

“She is...She was. Jason Devlin.” He shook his head again. “I still can’t see what she saw in him.”

Stephanie studied Jase Devlin, assessing him. Tall, dark and handsome, he was exactly the type of man Angel went for. A man who carried himself with a dangerous aura, one which said he wasn’t afraid to take on the world and kick it in the ass.

“He has an edge about him. He’s street-wise.” Stephanie murmured, almost to herself.

Ben scowled, not liking the way Stephanie was studying Devlin. “He’s trouble. I told Angel that, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

“He looks like trouble,” Stephanie admitted, “But not in the way you mean.”

Pausing, she smiled softly when Ben’s scowl deepened. “He looks like the kind of man who can take care of himself, and his woman.”

“Well, obviously not. If that were the case, Angel would still be alive.”

“What do you mean?” She asked in confusion.

“Devlin is an ex-cop. He was supposed to be protecting Angel at the very time she was raped and murdered,” Ben spat out, staring at Jase with dislike.

Stephanie was quick to note the look of dislike Ben shot at Jase Devlin was returned, noticing the man’s change in stance when he recognized Ben.

“He was supposed to be there?” She asked, returning her gaze to Jase Devlin.

“Yeah, he was her so-called bodyguard. He’s a hired gun. That’s how they met, and fell in love,” Ben said in disgust.

“He wasn’t there to protect her?”

“No. Apparently he fell off the wagon.”

“He fell off the wagon?” She echoed.

“He’s an alcoholic. The rumor is he was kicked off the force because of it. Angel thought she could save him from himself. It’s a pity he couldn’t be bothered to save her.”

Ben shook his head, giving Jase a look of undisguised hatred. His voice rough with emotion, he said, “He has a real nerve showing up here today.”

“Angel would have wanted him here,” Stephanie whispered, thinking of her best friend.

Another shot of pain hit her and she slid her hand into Ben’s. She smiled slowly, thinking of the conversation she’d had with Angel about Jase Devlin. She’d seemed so happy with him.

***

“He makes me so happy, Steph,” Angelina said, shaking her blonde hair in surprise.

“What do Ben and Jesse think of him?”