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going to keep loving you, no matter how stubborn you get. Now nod if you understand.”
    A strange sound came from my throat that was supposed to be a laugh but sounded more like a wheezing wild animal. I nodded and felt something break loose inside me.
    It felt a little like hope.
     
     

     
     

Chapter Five
     
     
    “You don’t have to do this,” I told Jack two hours later. “There are limits to friendship.”
    “Nope,” he said, only slightly pale. “I’ve made it this far. I can make it through the autopsy. It’s the embalming fluid that gets to me, and you can hardly smell it anymore. I’ll be fine.”
    Jack could stomach violent crime scenes all day long, but when it came to being enclosed underground in a place I frequently drained body fluids, he couldn’t quite keep it together. I didn’t even know what the smells would be like to someone who wasn’t accustomed. I’d grown too used to it over the years. I made sure the ventilation system was on as high as it would go and got to work.
    I’d gotten the body set up on blocks so he was easier to clean, and I stood back while Jack inked the victim’s fingers to get prints. Officer Cheek had been the one to check Reverend Oglesby’s home and retrieve prints so we could use them in comparison to our victim. He’d also reported back there was no sign Reverend Oglesby had been at the house for a few days. The Reverend’s car hadn’t shown up either, so Jack had put an APB out on a 2001 white Honda Accord as soon as he’d received the word.
    I’d already taken all the samples I could from the body and documented the exterior wounds on my recorder so I could make a written report later. The strong scent of disinfectant clung to the body now and I had him prepped and ready to begin the autopsy.
    Somewhere between the third floor stairs and the white sterile box of my lab, I’d started to feel almost human again. Maybe it was because of Jack. Or maybe it was because I had something to do with my hands. But the great pressure that had sat on my chest like an elephant was gone for the moment.
    Unfortunately, I was exhausted past the point of doing any good. The slight tremor in my hand wasn’t the only thing keeping me from proceeding with the autopsy. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept. Or eaten for that matter. The thought of food had my stomach clenching with pain, but nothing sounded good so I ignored it.
    “His back teeth are all missing,” I said. “Presumably pulled during the torture, which is going to make identification harder if this happens to not be Reverend Oglesby and there are no reports of other missing members of the community. The killer did leave the victim’s fingerprints intact, which is sloppy if you’re trying to hide someone’s identity, which leads me to believe the killer wasn’t trying to hide the victim’s identity at all.”
    “Killers,” Jack corrected. “There’s no way one person did all of this. The victim weighed over two hundred pounds and is built like a linebacker. He was tortured, but in very different ways, telling me everyone involved got their chance to inflict their own personal brand of pain. Then they chained him to a tree in the dark. Someone had to steady the dead weight of the body while they wrapped the chains around the tree. I don’t even think two men could have done it by themselves. I’d say it’d take a minimum of three strong men.”
    I stood up tall and stretched, rubbing at the small of my back. “What we’ve got here is a healthy male in the prime of his life. He’s strong, but not strong enough to fight off his attackers. He was restrained,” I said, indicating the marks around his ankles and wrists. “Then he was systematically beaten. Blows to the torso first. Broken ribs that punctured a lung. Shots to the kidneys hard enough that he’d be pissing blood for days had he survived.”
    I could see it clearly. The body was a map, and blood and bone didn’t lie.