Page 42 of The Lazarus Protocol

Noah followed her into the post-mortem room. The tables had been cleared, cabinets closed, and the whole place smelled like hospital disinfectant. Not unpleasant, but it served as a reminder of what the medical examiner did here. Only now, things were far too clean.

A single table in the center had been covered with a sheet, the outline of a body underneath. Doctor Mills went to the head and clasped his hands together in front of him, giving off an air that told them he had all the time in the world and nothing better to do with his evening. Marina stood opposite him. Noah hung back.

“We appreciate you coming.” Mills glanced at Noah, including him in the sentiment. “And identifying the deceased for the Commonwealth.”

He eased back the sheet, revealing the victim down to her neck. Stringy hair and a face marred by what had happened.

Marina’s breath caught in her throat.

“As you can see, the blunt force trauma she sustained was significant.”

Noah had seen that kind of injury to the skull before, when an IED had taken out a Humvee. The marine had been hit in the forehead by a piece of twisted metal that almost took off the top of her head.

Marina gripped the edges of the table, her body bowed forward and her head lowered for a second before she straightened. “Her head hit the steering wheel upon impact …and did this?”

Mills’ jaw flexed.

Noah didn’t like the silence. “Doctor, what was the cause of death?”

“The victim’s car hit a tree, traveling at high speed. The police noted there were no other vehicles on the road at the time, and no eye witnesses on scene. So we can’t be sure precisely what happened. However, the result is simple. A tragedy occurred.”

Marina’s knuckles turned white on the edges of the metal table. “Doctor, what was the cause of death?”

“You may believe you wish to know the precise details, but I can assure you that sometimes questions are better left unasked.”

“This isn’t one of those times.” Marina let go of the bed. “She suffered?”

Mills stared at her for a second. Then he said, “There were indications that Ms. Rameski didn’t die immediately.”

“What killed her?”

“The trauma of her injuries⁠—”

“Nope. What killed her?” Marina’s body language tightened.

Noah worried she might snap, but he didn’t go over there, just in case he was the impetus that made it happen. “What we need to know is whether someone did this to her. Because if she didn’t die as a result of the crash, there could be evidence that someone came along and finished the job.”

Marina stood completely straight, staring at the doctor.

Mills shook his head. “The evidence doesn’t support that conclusion.”

“It was important that we ask the question regardless,” Noah said. “We would like a copy of the police report.”

“And Kathryn’s personal belongings. Anything that was found on her at the time of her…death.” Marina’s voice broke on the last word. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cousin’s shoulder, whispering something Noah couldn’t hear.

The ME met them at the door with a clear bag that contained a purse and some loose items. “As there is no investigation, and the report has been filed, all of her belongings can be passed to you. This is everything she had on her.”

Marina took the bag. “What about her clothes? This isn’t everything.”

The ME stared at them for a moment, then went to a cabinet and retrieved a second bag. “Most families would rather not see blood-stained garments.”

Marina swept out without saying anything else.

Noah offered a quick, “Thank you for your time,” then followed her to the door. By the time they reached the street outside, she was practically running. “Whoa, whoa.”

He grabbed her by the elbow. Marina spun to him, and he let go.

“Sorry.” Her expression hardened, as though she was fighting tears and didn’t like it.