Page 13 of Done Dirty

“Then you know it has to be true. He’d never lie.”

My mouth twitched. “Like I was saying. This wound is postmortem. There’s no blood flow. The groin contains several major arteries. He would’ve bled out in minutes if this wound was cause of death. I’ll swab for sexual activity. Maybe we can get DNA from whoever he was with last.”

I swabbed him with a cotton swab and secured it in a tube before adding it to the evidence collection.

“No other front-facing wounds I can see or feel,” I said.

I moved to the flag that lay across his crossed arms. I photographed it in place, then carefully lifted it with two fingers and placed it in an evidence bag.

“No blood on the flag,” I said. “Placed after the fact.”

“Patriotism at its finest,” Jack said dryly.

“Help me roll him,” I said.

Jack wasn’t too far off from Wade’s height and build, and he knelt next to me and rolled the victim onto his side. Jack held him in place while I looked for posterior wounds.

“Here we go,” I said, running my fingers carefully along the back of his skull. “Looks like blunt force trauma to the occipital. Multiple impact points.” I took photographs and collected tissue samples.

“I guess that explains our missing ten-pound weight,” Jack said.

“That would certainly do it,” I said. “It wouldn’t take much force to do this kind of damage. He’d most likely be incapacitated after the first hit. After multiple hits, the damage would be fatal.”

Jack made sure I was steady with the body, and then got up to look under the bed. Then he checked dresser drawers and looked behind the furniture. “There’s no sign of the weight. Or any weapon for that matter. But this guy could teach lessons in drawer organization.”

“Can’t be too easy to walk around with a bloody weight in your hand,” I said.

“I’ll have Plank grab a couple of officers and do a canvass for a couple of blocks, check the dumpsters and alleyways.”

“I’ll be able to give you the exact number and hits once I get x-rays. But I can feel at least three distinct impact points.”

“That’s a lot of pent-up rage, to keep hitting a man while he’s down.”

I checked lividity while I had him on his side—the blood had settled and fixed along his back, buttocks, and along the backs of his legs. “He looks good except for having his skull bashed in,” I said. “No other marks or contusions. He didn’t put up a fight. From the outside, he’s a healthy thirty-four-year-old man.”

I took a temperature probe from my bag and took his core temp. “Looks like TOD was somewhere between midnight and two in the morning.”

“Maybe this will be an easy one,” Jack said. “Can’t be too much traffic in the building or around the perimeter at that time.”

“Here’s hoping,” I said. “I think I decided on a paint color for the nursery.”

If Jack was caught off guard by the change in subject, he didn’t let on. “Oh yeah?”

“Green is a neutral color, right? Not like the color of grass. Like moss.”

“Yeah, that’s neutral,” he said. “Or we could just find out the sex.”

“What fun is that?” I asked.

“Right,” he said. “Do I want to know what thought process led you to deciding on a nursery color?”

“Probably not,” I said, putting everything back in my bag. “I’ve done all I can do on him for now. Lily and Sheldon should be here soon for transport. I’ll have more for you after the autopsy.”

“I’ll get the warrant moving for the cameras,” Jack said. “Derby is already on-site. Other than the resident hallways we should have pretty good coverage.”

He took one more look at Wade Rivers. “I can understand the knife to his groin. That’s a scorned lover or jealous husband play. But what about the flag?”

“I don’t know,” I said, stripping off my gloves and putting on a fresh pair. “Could be political. Could be personal. Could be somebody who wanted to make a point in the days leading up to the country’s 250th and this was their canvas.” I looked at him. “Could also be completely unrelated to the holiday and we’d be chasing our tails assuming otherwise.”