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Aubree nods. “When Mrs. Travers couldn’t wake her, that’s when panic set in. She called an ambulance. Paramedics called it, Homicide was brought in, and here we are.”
“Here we are.” I take Sarah’s white sheet and push it down to reveal her bare chest. “And Homicide was called because it was an unattended death and suspicious in nature?”
“Right. Kernicke couldn’t figure it out, Flynn offered to help, I offered to take a look. Kernicke had a problem on both fronts, so we left it. It’s not cool to step on your colleagues’ toes like that, and Kernicke’s seniority meant he didn’t take kindly to our offers.”
Being senior does not make a man invincible, and being a guy doesn’t mean he gets to be offended because a couple of women trample toes.
“Noted. So we have no murder weapon, no trauma to the body, no apparent motive. Is it possible Sarah and Mr. Travers were having extramaritals?”
“Not according to Mr. and Mrs. Travers. Detective Malone already asked them.”
Just his name sends a jolt of electricity through my stomach.
“He also asked her friends if they thought she was intimate with her boss—either of them. Every single independent interview came back with a resounding no. Malone asked if Sarah had a boyfriend—again, they said no. Being a live-in nanny who works six days a week makes it tricky to date, according to her friends. Can’t bring a guy back to the house, and Sundays aren’t enough time to maintain a relationship while maintaining friendships on top. Her friends and employers all say she wasn’t seeing anyone, wasn’t interested in anyone, and wasn’t the type to sneak around.”
“You’re cutting me off every time I try to chase down a lead.”
Aubree’s lips curl into a satisfied grin. “I like being thorough, and I’m enjoying bouncing this with you. Though, of course, that would be an opinion, not a fact relating to this case.”
Snickering under my breath, I make my way to Sarah’s head and stop. “Kernicke has already opened her chest. And,” I lean in closer to study the incision behind her ear. “Her brain too?”
“Scalp was retracted,” Aubree says. “Skull was opened up.”
“Nothing was found?”
“Not according to Kernicke’s notes. He looked around, weighed and measured, called it naught, then put her back together again.”
“Alright, well, seeing as our patient seems to have died in her sleep, her heart is reported as healthy, and she was complaining of headaches, even if they were mild, I’m going to start my examination right here.” Gently, I slide my gloved fingers along the incision in her scalp and slowly pull back. “Let’s see what we find. Hopefully, we can give closure to Sarah’s family.”
“And if we can’t?” Aubree picks up her camera once more and zooms in as I remove a portion of Sarah’s skull to reveal what lies beneath. “It’s been a week already. What if this remains a mystery?”
Scowling, I look up and meet her eyes. “Are you telling me you think we should give up?”
She shakes her head and comes closer to Sarah’s exposed brain. “No. I just wanna know at what pointyougive up.”
“I don’t. The industry average for medical examiners ruling a case unsolvable sits at four percent.” I glance up and wait for her eyes. “My career record, to this point, is zero.”
“Zero?”
“Zero,” I reiterate. “I have yet to come upon a case I couldn’t solve, and I don’t intend to ruin that streak on my first day at the George Stanley.”
“Well, alright.” Glancing above the camera, Aubree’s eyes glitter with pleasure as I remove Sarah’s brain from her skull. “At the risk of sounding unprofessional while on record, I just have to sayhuzzah.”
“Huzzah?”
She nods. “Huzzah.”
* * *
Aubree Emeri is chatty. The kind of chatty the New York City version of me might have avoided and run far and fast from at the first sign of moving lips.
But there’s something about this woman with the pink hair and sharp mind.
She gabs on like a brainless high schooler, but I’m beginning to see how beneath that, she’s smarter than any other pathologist I’ve worked with. Maybe her chatty front is her way of blowing off steam. Maybe it’s how she makes room for all the knowledge in her head.
Just maybe, her constant conversation is a release valve so she doesn’t blow and make a mess all over everyone.
Thankfully, I’m finding I can tolerate the chatter, purely because her mind intrigues the hell out of me.
