It was nearly 8:00 p.m. by the time Mercy reached the small building where the local medical examiner kept an office. Typically bodies went to the medical examiner’s primary building east of Portland for autopsy, but Dr. Natasha Lockhart had a small facility in Bend for herself and an assistant. Two vehicles were in the lot, and Mercy hoped one belonged to Dr. Peres. The other she assumed was the odontologist’s or Dr. Lockhart’s.
Inside, Mercy followed the sounds of conversation and found Dr. Peres in a large room with three stainless steel tables. Bins from the recovery were stacked along one wall, and Dr. Peres had set out four dirty skulls on one table. She and a petite blonde woman were deep in discussion, studying a fifth skull in the small woman’s hands, and didn’t hear Mercy enter.
“Dr. Peres?” Mercy asked quietly, not wanting to startle them and have a skull drop.
Both women turned. Victoria Peres had a scowl on her face, while the blonde woman gave Mercy a wide smile. Mercy couldn’t help but smile back. She was tiny, with wavy hair and warm brown eyes. Mercy immediately felt like a giant. No doubt the tall Dr. Peres felt the same way around the woman.
“You must be Agent Kilpatrick.” The blonde woman held out her hand, balancing the skull in the other. “I’m Lacey Ca—Harper.”
Mercy took her hand. “Caharper?”
“Harper,” Lacey said firmly. “I married recently. Victoria was one of my attendants,” she added with a quick glance at the forensic anthropologist.
Dr. Peres gave the first smile Mercy had seen from the woman. “Dr. Harper is the forensic odontologist I told you about.”
“I’m still not used to hearing ‘Dr. Harper,’” admitted Lacey. “My husband, Jack, loves the sound of it, but I’ve been called Dr. Campbell for too many years. My father was Dr. Campbell too.”
“As in the former state medical examiner?” Mercy asked. She’d met the man a few times in Portland before he retired.
“That’s him.”
“You didn’t want to follow his path?”
“Teeth are sufficient for me, thank you,” she said with a small eye roll.
Mercy gestured at the skull in Lacey’s hand. “What do the teeth on that tell you?”
Lacey’s eyes lit up. “All sorts of things. But I’ll let Victoria start. She’s been looking them over.” Lacey set the skull in the line with the others. Three of the skulls had mandibles set next to them. Victoria hadn’t exaggerated about the damage. Broken and missing teeth made the group look as if they’d been stolen from a Halloween store. Again Mercy’s attention was caught by the smallest skull. Many of its tiny teeth were brutally shattered. Each skull also had a spiderweb of fracture lines near a temple. Some had a hole or two in the same area.
Are those impacts the cause of death?
“I haven’t had time for a proper examination of each skull,” Victoria said, distinctly reluctant to share any findings. “I still need to clean them up better.”
“But you have first impressions,” Mercy coaxed. “I’ll take them all with a grain of salt, understanding they aren’t concrete and could change.”
“This isn’t how I work.” Victoria frowned.
“Completely understandable. It’s a risk I need to take because we must move as fast as we can.”
Victoria took a deep breath and exchanged a look with Lacey, who lifted one shoulder. “We are positive about some things,” Lacey pointed out.
“True.” Victoria gestured at the five skulls. “You ever play that game of ‘one of these things is not like the other’?” Her voice took on a lecturing tone.
“Like from Sesame Street?” Mercy was amused. Clearly one of the skulls was much smaller.
“Yes. And I’m not referring to the size of the child’s skull. I’m talking about ancestry.”
“Oh.” Mercy looked again. To her all the skulls were similar. Dirty ivory in color, with eye sockets, an opening where the nose had been, and seams across the smooth parts. She couldn’t see them as people. Except for the tiny one. Every time she looked at it, for no reason she pictured a young girl with blonde curls. “I don’t know what I’m looking for.”
“Exactly. But before I get into ancestry, first of all, there is one adult female, one teenage female, and two adult male skulls in addition to the child’s skull.” She ran a finger above the eye sockets of the first large skull. “See how the bone juts out over the orbits of the eyes? And how the forehead slopes back? This one is male. Now compare it to the one next to it. The brow ridges are smoother; the forehead more vertical. Not to mention the skull is smaller and the bones more delicate. It’s also much lighter than the other one.”
Mercy looked at the next two skulls in line. “The third is a male and the fourth is female,” she said slowly.
“Correct.” The forensic anthropologist was pleased with her new student.
“And the child?”
Dr. Peres gently lifted the small skull and looked directly into the deep spaces where its eyes should have been, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Lacey and I have agreed the child is between five and eight. I feel the structure has more feminine characteristics, but like I said at the scene, it’s difficult to tell at this age.”
“She was hit in the mouth and the side of the head,” said Mercy as she blinked rapidly, staring at the damage to the temple. The killer had abused the child the same way as the adults.
“The blow to the side of the head was perimortem—right before she died or else immediately after. I can tell by the edge of the broken bone.”
“Bastards,” breathed Mercy.
“Quite,” agreed Lacey.
The three women were silent for a long moment as Victoria gently set the small skull back down.
“What did you want to tell me about ancestry?” Mercy asked, needing to fill the lull.
“Three of the adults are Caucasian. One is Asian.”
“Interesting. Let me try to figure it out.” Mercy studied each skull and finally had to admit defeat. “Again . . . I have no idea what I’m looking for. They all look alike to me.”
“Start with the shape of the eye orbits,” suggested Lacey.
Mercy pointed at the first. “This one’s orbits are very round. The other four are sort of angled.” Now it was very obvious to her.
Lacey picked up the first male skull and turned it upside down to show Mercy the top teeth. “The maxillary incisors are a good indicator too . . . even though three have been broken off, the fourth shows a shovel shape with defined ridges when viewed from the lingual.”
“Tongue?” Mercy asked in confusion.
“Viewed from the tongue side of the teeth,” Lacey clarified. She showed Mercy the smooth shape of the back of a front tooth on another skull for comparison.
“When they’re side by side, I can see the differences. If I had a single skull, I’d be lost,” admitted Mercy.
“That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” said Victoria, and Lacey gave a snort of laughter. “Well, sort of big bucks.”
“The Asian skull is darker,” Mercy observed. “Does that mean anything?”
Both Victoria and Lacey frowned. “We were just talking about that,” said Victoria. “It could be from a few things. Possibly it was buried longer than the others, or the dirt right around it was a different composition, staining it darker.”
“Buried longer?” Mercy’s ears pricked up. “We’re considering that this might be a family. But if one has been buried longer and is Asian, maybe he doesn’t belong.” She couldn’t help but smile a little as she referenced Victoria’s earlier words about the Sesame Street game.
“Maybe he married into the family,” suggested Lacey. “Your theory is still viable.”
“It is,” agreed Mercy. “None of the others have the slightest Asian characteristics?”
“Not really,” said Victoria. “I have to take dozens of measurements to see where the skulls fall in the ancestry guidelines, but the two prominent features—the orbits and the incisors—aren’t apparent in the others.”
“Do you mind if I take some photos?” Mercy asked.
“Go right ahead,” answered Victoria.
As Mercy snapped pictures with her work phone, Lacey asked, “I heard this might be similar to some past murder cases?”
Mercy didn’t take her gaze away from her work. “Yes. A little over twenty years ago. The main similarities are the blows to the teeth and the possibility that this is a family. But they caught the killer back then. He’s in prison.”
“Uh-huh. Sometimes that doesn’t matter,” stated Lacey.
Mercy looked up from her shooting. “What does that mean?”
The woman shrugged and lightly traced the faint line across her neck, not meeting Mercy’s gaze. “Sometimes someone else takes up the cloak and continues the deadly work.”
An odd prickling started on Mercy’s scalp. What happened to her?
“Lacey.” Victoria touched the woman’s arm, concern in her eyes. “Are you okay?”
Lacey looked up and forced a smile. “Yes. It’s been years now.” She finally met Mercy’s gaze. “I’ll tell you about it over a beer sometime.”
Mercy nodded. After I Google you.