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“The football player Taylor Reed,” Elijah said. “Similar situation. Very little blood, a few spots missing from his body, skin removed in some way, and this time he had his throat slashed.”
“Sounds a little more plausible that someone with their throat slashed would die of blood loss.”
“He was found in a car accident, head through the windshield, blood everywhere, but there was barely any blood on his shirt when they brought him in. And the throat…”
Elijah sat there for a moment and took a sip of his Americano.
“You don’t think the throat wound caused his death?”
“No, I think it happened after he died of blood loss. There were a number of indicators.”
“How many others?”
“A few,” Elijah said, “and I think some that were covered up less sloppily, that flew under the radar, but the stories are all the same. The outcomes are the same, too.”
“What’s that?” Doug asked, but he smirked like he already knew the answer.
Elijah looked at him.
“The lead pathologist rules all the deaths an accident of some sort and shuts down any inquiry whatsoever. There are almost always drugs and alcohol involved, or unusual circumstances that make it easier to… overlook the moreunusualbodily trauma.”
“Does that bother you?” Saber asked, and Elijah made a quiet, almost imperceptible noise. She realized it was his laugh.
“No,” he said. “I need this job. I’m not the type to make waves. Not when I can’t prove anything.”
“What do you think is causing it? The deaths?”
Elijah looked at Doug steadily for a moment.
“I would rather not say,” he said. “Until I know what it is thatyouknow.”
“I’ve found animals in the woods,” Doug said. “Blood loss, no wound, similar to what you described.”
“And a few kids have gone missing, kids my age, like Taylor Reed.”
“And Phoebe Matlin and Ben Kamden,” Elijah said. “And Laurel Jennings.”
“They haven’t found—” Saber began, but he looked at her meaningfully, and her breath caught.
“You can’t tell anyone.” Elijah sipped his Americano. “The family only found out this morning.”
She felt her stomach sink.
“She’s—”
“On the slab,” he said, and sighed. “But I haven’t cut her open yet. Any guesses what I’ll find?”
“Jesus,” said Saber.
“My lunch break is almost up,” Elijah said. “Do you know anything? What’s causing this?”
“I think it’s happening, or at least originating at these… these parties on the island…”
Elijah sipped his drink and looked at her steadily. He was, she realized, very curious, if equally reserved.
“What’s happening at these… parties?”
Saber looked at Doug.
