Chapter3
Tessa
“Damn.He’s young.”
Hugo stands beside me as we watch Buck Wilson—our local veterinarian who also acts as the county coroner—zip the victim into a body bag.He’ll take the body to the morgue in the hospital basement for storage.I’m not sure yet whether the sheriff will want the coroner to do the autopsy himself or whether we’re calling in Tom Richter, who is the medical examiner for a larger neighboring county.With more hands-on experience with cases where foul play is a factor, he’s helped out before on autopsies.
“He is,” I confirm.
Not much older than one of my boys.
It makes me sick to my stomach to think there is a mother like me out there, about to plunge into a nightmare of epic proportions.
“Can you give us anything?”Hugo asks Buck Wilson after he helps load the body into his van and he turns to us.
He sighs heavily.
“Can’t be a hundred-percent sure, but given that his throat was obviously slit, and from what I could see of the rest of his injuries, I’d say the murder weapon you’re looking for is a knife, but I won’t be able to confirm or give more details until after the autopsy.”
“What do you think about calling in Richter for assistance?”
Buck nods at the deputy sheriff.“I was gonna suggest that myself.Want me to call him?”
“Please.”
“Let me know,” I pipe up.“I’d like to be present.”
Not that I’m a fan of the morgue or autopsies, far from it, but I’m eager to learn as much as I can about this boy and the way he met his gruesome end.Besides, this kid should have someone who cares about him present, and I care.Probably more than I should.
“Sure thing,” Wilson confirms with a nod before he closes the doors on the van.
Hugo is already thanking the search and rescue team who helped with the recovery of the victim.As the coroner’s van drives off, I walk over to KC Kingma, one of our deputies.He is also an experienced rock climber, and was sent down with the team to photograph and process the scene before they removed the body.
“No ID on him?”is my first question.
“Nothing in his pockets other than half a pack of gum.No phone, no ID, nothing identifiable.I took a few shots of his shoes and the treads.They’re older style Vans and from the way the soles were worn, I’d say he did some skateboarding.”
“Okay, good.It may help us narrow in on who this victim is.Let’s head back to the station and try to find out his identity.He looks too well-dressed to be a street kid, so someone is probably out there wondering where he is.We’ll start with missing persons reports.”
“Right behind you,” KC announces as I make my way back to the vehicles.
“Ryan Wells—seventeen,lives in Mead—was reported missing by his mother three weeks ago.This kid ticks all the boxes.”
I get up and walk over to KC’s desk, leaning over his shoulder to get a look at the file he pulled up.My heart sinks when I see the casual image of a teenage boy, a skateboard under his arm as he grins broadly at whoever is taking the picture.I have no doubt it’s him, and it hurts my heart.That mother lived in fear and hope for three weeks, and now has to be told that fear was justified and any hope is gone, along with her son.
“Dammit,” I mutter before adding, “Could you print me out a copy of that report?”
I wait for it to print out before I return to my desk.
Mead is a suburb of Spokane and falls under the jurisdiction of the Spokane County Sheriff’s Office rather than the Spokane Police Department.I’ve worked alongside a lot of local law enforcement in and around Spokane, but don’t recognize the name of the officer who took the original report, but put a call in to the number provided.
“Haynes.”
He doesn’t sound like he’s having a good day, and I’m about to make it worse.
“Officer Haynes, this is Detective Tessa Androtti with the Edwards County Sheriff’s Department.I’m calling about a missing persons case, Ryan Wells.I think we may have found him.”
“Oh shit.”
