Chapter 16
“THE BUTTERFLY MURDERS,” Kara said. “Not what I had in mind when I mentioned the removal of organs.” She tossed her napkin over her half-eaten buffalo chicken sub that she had ordered at a local sandwich shop not far from the precinct. Foster had gone to Boston to find out more about that case. “I mean, we said this looked just like the Organ Slayer.”
“But you mentioned butterflies more times than organs,” Shane said. “And it sounds better than The Organ Murders.”
“You’re not making me feel better,” she said.
“We could go into the back seat of my car and I could find a half dozen ways to make you feel better.” He winked as he took a huge bite of his turkey club.
“Tempting,” she said. After the press conference yesterday, he’d practically begged her to come over to his house, but by the time she managed to pry herself away from the precinct it was well into the midnight hour. As much as she wanted to spend even an hour in his arms, she needed a good night’s sleep. Of course, she spent the first hour in bed texting and talking to him.
“We could drive down to the tracks. You remember. The ones across from the golf course. You gave me my first—”
“You have sex on the brain.”
He shrugged. “I’m a guy. And really, that sexting stuff doesn’t do it for me.”
She laughed. “You certainly were into it last night.”
“Till you fell asleep on me, and what’s with this no picture rule?”
She picked up a napkin, wadded it up, and tossed it at his face. “I don’t think I have to explain myself there.”
“I would have sent one of me.”
“Oh, just stop,” she said. “It’s never going to happen.”
“What about when the case is over? When you go back to D.C.?” he asked. “You’re going to need to give me something.”
She swallowed. “I’ll think about it.”
“We could video chat.” He cocked his head and waggled his brow.
“You know that’s never going to happen.”
“Why not?”
“Please tell me you’ve never done video sex chats before.”
He shook his head. “I haven’t. I’ve also never sexted before. I mean, not really. A few normal comments with Janet about getting lucky if I behaved.” He smiled. “But after our little chat last night, I’m not opposed.”
“I am.”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he said. “But seriously, what are we going to do when this case is over? Your life is in D.C. and mine is here. I can’t uproot my son, and I wouldn’t ask you to give up your career.”
Her breath came in short pants, making her dizzy. “I’m not sure I know what to say.”
He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. His thumb rubbed her palm. She wanted to jump across the table like a silly school girl and kiss him all over. But this wasn’t a school girl crush, and she and Shane weren’t the only ones in the equation. He had a son. A son who would always come before her, as he should.
“I think we’re moving a little bit too fast,” she said.
“We passed fast a long time ago. So, what are we going to do about it?”
She shook her head, trying to clear a path for logical reasoning. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t involve webcam sex.”
He laughed. “I bet I could talk you into that.” He laced his fingers through hers. “I’m being serious about a long-distance relationship. About giving it a shot.”
“I know you are,” she said. Her heart hammered in her chest. She held up her hand as he opened his mouth. “How do you feel about us? About being with me more than the time I’m here?”
His thumb continued to rub tiny circles on her palm. “Comfortable,” he said. “This.” He held up her hand. “Us. It feels comfortable. I don’t know what it will feel like when you leave. Only, the thought of you leaving makes me uncomfortable.”
“You have such a way with words.” He could be romantic, but it was never when you expected it. When you did expect it, he came up with words like comfortable.
“When we have video sex, I’ll have better words.”
“Seriously, that’s not happening.” She squeezed his hand as the table vibrated. “One day at a time.”
“All right.” He leaned back in his seat “One day at a time. Now, I think we need to set that aside and talk about the case.”
She was glad to be off the relationship discussion. “We’ve officially ruled out many of our suspects.”
“Not all of them,” Shane said. “We’ve got two religious nut jobs.”
“Who we have no record of stepping foot in New York State.” Kara couldn’t get past the idea that someone was targeting people who had organ transplants on Thursdays, which put Kevin right in the line of fire. “The only other real suspect is Haughton, and that’s only for Emily’s murder.”
The table vibrated again as Shane’s screen lock lit up. She swallowed, noticing he had changed his screensaver picture to one of just of Kevin.
“Anything important?”
He glanced at it again. “Not the office. Not Kevin. Not anyone in my family. And not you. Therefore, not important.”
A smile tugged at her lips. It was nice to be put on a list of important people. “We can also rule out the finger-chopper in Syracuse when it comes to Iris. He was in county lock-up for drunk and disorderly.”
The table vibrated again. Shane picked up his phone. “Office. And it’s interesting.”
“What is it?”
He handed her his phone after tapping on it. “Got the CSI report on the fiber found in Iris’s hand.”
She took the phone and scanned the report. “The fiber is used in scrubs,” she said. “Someone who works in the hospital.”
“Sort of narrows it down,” Shane said. “Also gives us a starting place. I know just about everyone in the organ donor wing.”
“That really doesn’t make me feel better, considering the profile we’ve put together.” She handed Shane his phone back. “I don’t mean to harp on this,” she said, “but you told me that the M.E. said there are eight main organs that can be donated.”
“Along with other tissues.”
“Hang on,” Kara pulled out her phone, which had started vibrating in her pocket. “More interesting news.” She held up the image that Foster had sent over of a marking of a butterfly on the back of the victim found in Boston.
“Did he have a transplant?”
Kara nodded. “Intestines. And candles were found in the bathroom—specifically around the tub. No one thought that odd, but one officer did document it since it was a single guy living alone. If this is our killer, he must have been interrupted before finishing his ritual.”
“And the victim is from Rochester.” Shane chomped down on his lower lip, something Kara noticed he’d do when something troubled him.
“Let me put a car on Kevin and Theresa.” She’d wanted to do that yesterday, but he’d said it was a waste of resources.
“That won’t get approved, but some of my buddies are checking on things on and off duty.” He continued to chew on his lip. “Corneas, kidneys, liver, intestines,” he said. “That leaves lungs, pancreas, thymus, and heart.”
“What are you thinking?” she asked, glad he seemed to be rethinking the idea of protection for his son.
“Well, my first thought was that maybe someone was collecting organs that they believed came from one person.”
“A modern-day Frankenstein.”
“Something like that, but the dates of the transplants don’t jibe.”
“But Thursdays do,” she said, following his train of thought. “So, it’s possible that someone is trying to rebuild someone or something symbo—”
“Symbolically,” Shane said, finished her thought. “What was the date the cadaver went missing?”
Kara quickly pulled out her notepad. “August eleventh. A Thursday.”
“When was the Boston murder?”
“December first. A Thursday,” Kara said. “That’s a lot of time between the two incidents.”
“Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“Medical school. I want to find out more about the other cadavers that went missing.”
“Why?”
“Because I think our killer has been practicing on them. Like a doctor would. Perfecting his technique until he thought he was ready to harvest organs himself.”
* * *
After spending forty-five minutes on the phone while waiting in a hallway, Shane was finally given the name of the professor who initially reported the missing cadavers.
“Thanks for meeting with us,” Shane said as Dr. Miles met them in the lobby of the Medical School Building.
“Not a problem. What is it that you want to know?” Dr. Miles waved to a few chairs around a small table. Shane sat down, Kara next to him, and Dr. Miles across the table. Shane pulled out his leather notebook and ran his fingers across the top.
“The cadavers that went missing—” Kara started, but Dr. Miles cut her off.
“We’ve stepped up security protocols since then. We used to give key passes to various medical students, doctors, and nurses. But now it’s just the teaching staff. Anyone else has to be buzzed in. A pain in the ass, but I don’t want that to happen again.”
“Buzzed into classrooms?”
“No,” Dr. Miles said, “the storage facility where the cadavers are warehoused.”
“What exactly happened to the cadavers?” Shane asked.
“The students assigned to helping transport the cadavers said they were approached by a staff member, asking to help them in an annual prank. Five cadavers were taken. Only three were recovered that day. The other two were gone.”
“Gone where?” Shane asked.
“Well, one was just found as you know,” Dr. Miles said. “The other one we still have no idea where it is.”
“Don’t you think that’s odd?” Kara asked. “Someone just walks off with cadavers?”
“Of course,” Dr. Miles said. “But the bigger problem is that we haven’t identified the cadavers.”
“What do you mean?” Kara asked.
“We just updated our system. UCLA lost track of identities of over fifty donated cadavers, which is what prompted us to do it. But while we made the transfer, we realized some were already mismanaged. There are better protocols in place now, but the cadavers that went missing? We’re not sure who they are…were.”
“So, you’re saying this happens often?” Kara asked.
“Oh, no. Not like this. What I’m saying is that bodies are often donated to science, but we lose track of the identities, which has made this particular case difficult because we can’t be certain we’re even missing a cadaver.”
“So, you don’t know how many were in that room?” Shane asked, completely dumbfounded.
“No, there were five. Four have been recovered, but without proper tracking information we don’t have a tag that goes with the missing cadaver. I’m ashamed to admit that, but with our new system and protocols it won’t happen again.
“Do you remember the students who pulled this prank?” Shane asked.
“Sure do.” Dr. Miles pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “Here are their names. There was a hearing, but not much came from that. They had to pay fines, but were not expelled or removed from the medical school.”
“Anything else you think we should know?” Kara asked.
“Not that I can think of, but I’ll give you a ring if anything comes to mind.”
“Thanks.” Shane tucked the piece of paper into his notebook and shoved it in his pocket. Once the doctor had disappeared into another classroom, Shane said to Kara, “I think we need to set up one single meeting with these students.”