Dead Guilty by Beverly Connor Page B

one-and-a-half-degree
drop
an
hour,
it’s
possible
he
died
two
and
a
half
hours ago. He’s already into rigor. That’s a little early,
but
it
looks
like
he
put
up
a
fight
and
that
would
hasten it.’’
‘‘His girlfriend put the call in about two and a half
hours ago,’’ said Whit. He was standing back from the
body, watching Dr. Webber examine it.
‘‘I suppose Chief Garnett needs to talk with her,’’
said Dr. Webber. ‘‘I’m done here.’’
She turned to Diane. ‘‘Raymond has one skeleton
for you. Blue Doe. He’s delivering it today. He’ll have
Red and Green done shortly.’’
‘‘Good. Perhaps we can find out who they were.’’
Diane pulled out a coil of orange string to tie off the
rope for cutting.
‘‘If this keeps up,’’ said Lynn, ‘‘you’re going to run
out of colors.’’

Chapter
10
    ‘‘Looks
like autoerotic asphyxia,’’ said the black tech
nician when he saw the body. ‘‘I had one about six
months ago. Just a kid.’’
    Jin
stopped an examination of the chest of drawers
and
walked
over.
‘‘Most
instances
of
autoerotic
as
phyxia are adolescents,’’ he said. ‘‘This doesn’t look
like it. Wouldn’t you say, Boss?’’
‘‘I think we don’t need to speculate,’’ said Diane.
    ‘‘His
hands
are
tied
awful
tight,’’
said
the
other
assistant.
‘‘Maybe he had help,’’ his partner suggested. ‘‘The
rope is tight around the front where he’s leaning into
it, but there’s a lot of give in the back.’’ They held
the body while Diane tied off the yellow polypropyl
ene rope with orange string and cut it.
‘‘He sure looks trussed up around the neck like that
kid. The kid’s mother moved all the porn he had in
the
room,’’
the
technician
continued.
He
looked
around the bedroom. ‘‘Friends and family will do that,
you
know.’’
The
technician
didn’t
want
to
give
up
his diagnosis.
‘‘Let’s
get
this
poor
boy
out
of
here,’’
said
Lynn
Webber. She stripped off her gloves as the technicians
placed the remains of Chris Edwards in the body bag.
‘‘Be careful of the ropes,’’ said Diane.
‘‘Will do.’’ The black man smiled at Diane. ‘‘Pete and
I always give our guest a good ride. Don’t we, Pete?’’
‘‘You bet. We’ve never had any complaints.’’ The
two of them laughed.
Lynn left, telling Diane she wouldn’t be getting to
the autopsy until the afternoon, so Diane could come
then and retrieve the ropes.
Whit stayed until the body was removed and Lynn
was gone. Diane walked him to the door.
‘‘I had a talk with his girlfriend before letting her
go
home,’’
said
Whit,
leaning
close
to
Diane
and
speaking low, though only she and her crew were in
the house.
‘‘She
said there’s
usually a
key under
the mat.
It
was
on
the
desk
when
she
got
here.
I
asked
her
if
anything was missing that she could see. She said she
thought his laptop was gone. He usually keeps it on
the desk along with a DVD player.’’
Whit pointed to a pine table against the wall flanked
by two speakers. The table was empty, but the dust
pattern showed that something had sat there.
Diane looked around the room for any other ghosts
of
missing
objects.
It
was
a
sparse
room
with
walls
painted the color of sand. The furniture consisted of
a brown futon couch and two chairs, one stuffed and
slipcovered
in
brown
corduroy,
the
other
a
canebacked
rocker.
The
coffee
table
was
a
large
roughhewn cross-section of a tree trunk with glass covering
the top. The some-assembly-required computer desk
sat against one wall.
On the wall opposite the couch, a tall bookcase held
a television and books on forestry and stacks of Na
tional Geographic . Beside it was the table where the
DVD player had sat. The hardwood floors were bare.
‘‘Jin took the girlfriend’s—Kacie Beck’s—fingerprints
before she left. She was very cooperative,’’ he said.
Diane nodded. Whit’s dark eyes looked sympathetic
as he took a final look toward the