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Not for the first time in her life, Cassie prayed zombies weren’t real.

“Elizabeth Montgomery.” Underwood pulled out her chart and read from it. “Twenty-eight years old. Seven-and-a-quarter-inch horizontal laceration that severed the carotid artery and damaged the windpipe. Ten-and-three-eighths-inch vertical laceration. Several broken ribs. Missing heart.”

“Just like the others,” Harris whispered.

“Identical other than small variations in the length of the lacerations and the damage to the chest cavity.” Underwood looked up at the two women. “Are you ready?”

Harris looked at Cassie, who nodded. When she turned back to Underwood, her face was set in a mask of neutral professionalism. “Go ahead.”

Underwood peeled back the sheet, stopping it above Elizabeth’s hip bones. Cassie couldn’t help the sharp gasp as she inhaled deeply. She had seen more than her fair share of dead bodies, but this was one of the worst.

“Can you walk me through it?” Harris asked, her voice steady.

r /> Underwood’s tone was casual, but Cassie knew him well enough to know that what he saw in his line of work stayed with him. It was a given that this case would, too.

“Toxicology shows Rohypnol in her system. She was drugged, presumably to make her easier to deal with. There are no defensive wounds which tells me she was pretty out of it when the attack started, though the pain would have flooded her system with adrenaline and snapped her back to reality, at least somewhat.”

“Are you able to tell which happened first?” Cassie pointed between the woman’s neck and chest.

“It looks like he cut her throat first and drained as much of her blood as possible. Her death would’ve been quick, all things considered. Cutting the carotid artery means she would’ve bled out in about a minute give or take. After that he cut out her heart.”

Cassie knew there was nothing quick about it. The saving grace was upon passing through the veil to the afterlife, the pain and fear were forgotten. Usually.

Harris looked up at Underwood. “You sound like you have more to say about that.”

“It’s interesting.” Underwood twisted the end of his mustache. “The blade cut through her neck like butter. That tells me it was sharper than steel, maybe something like obsidian.”

Cassie looked over at Harris. “Are obsidian blades ever used in ritualistic killings?”

“Yes,” Harris said. “What about her chest?”

“The chest was cut with the same blade,” Underwood continued. “The line is steady and even, which tells me this isn’t the first time the killer made an incision like this. But what’s more interesting is that he used a bone saw to cut through her ribs to get to the heart.”

“A bone saw?” Cassie asked. “Like what a doctor would use?”

“Exactly like what a doctor would use,” Underwood said. “This guy knew what he was doing.”

“Does that mean the killer is a doctor?” Cassie asked.

“Maybe,” Harris said. “We don’t have enough evidence to prove that yet. Hunters know plenty about anatomy, animals or otherwise, and there are ways to get your hand on any kind of tool. Is he a hunter? Did he learn it by watching YouTube and practicing on cadavers or animals?”

“But someone would hear a bone saw, wouldn’t they?” Cassie asked.

“If they did,” Harris said, “they might think they’re hearing a chainsaw. Not a whole lot of people who run toward that sound in the middle of the woods in the middle of the night.”

Cassie knew she was right. She looked back down at Elizabeth and a well of emotion filled her chest. She was sad and angry and scared and confused all at once. The poor woman had done nothing wrong other than perhaps allow the wrong man to get close to her. And here she was, spread open like a specimen for dissection. She deserved better than that. She deserved to see her thirties and beyond.

Cassie was hit with a wave of nausea when the lights flickered overhead. She looked up at Harris and Underwood, but neither of them looked alarmed. Cassie knew this was a message only for her. Between one breath and the next, Elizabeth appeared in the corner of the room.

Elizabeth walked toward Cassie with her arm outstretched, like she was pleading, begging for her life. Cassie wondered if that was the same face she made when her executioner had pulled out his knife and pressed it to her throat. The nausea in Cassie’s stomach threatened to spill over.

Elizabeth dropped her arm and looked down at her body. Another tear slid down her cheek and she looked into Cassie’s eyes. Anger filled the spirit’s face, and she took one step toward Cassie, then another. When she was inches from Cassie, Elizabeth leaned close and whispered in Cassie’s ear.

“It’ll be over soon.”

“Cassie, are you okay?”

Harris’s voice broke the spell. The lights returned to normal, shining bright overhead. Elizabeth was gone and left in her wake was the feeling of her ghostly breath on Cassie’s ear. She couldn’t help but shiver. When she looked up, both the detective and Underwood were staring at her like she had grown another head.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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