Tainted Mind Read online

  “The Community Hospital at Riverside. It's the next town over. Not a much bigger town, but it has the hospital and morgue.”

  “I'll take a look tomorrow if you want me to. I'll do my best with a reconstruction, but I'm not authorized to work with you, so I'll be limited in what I can do since I won't be able to touch her.”

  Ian wasn't sure he'd heard right—it took a few seconds to sink in before he nodded in acknowledgement of Dr. DeMarco's offer. “I can pick you up at ten,” he proposed.

  “Why don't you give me directions and I'll meet you there at two? I spoke to my aunt this morning—the family friend I mentioned that loves this area,” she reminded him. “Anyway, she insisted I visit a few places she loves while I'm out here. The Martin Van Buren house, some Shaker village north of here, and some lunch place in West Stockbridge that's run by a family friend. I know, it seems petty compared to what you're dealing with—”

  “I'll take any help I can get. She's not scheduled to be transported to the state lab for two days, so a few hours here or there isn't going to make a difference.”

  And, with this new development, saying goodbye was a little easier. He had a plan, and he liked plans. He gave her directions to the hospital as well as his contact information. And when he walked out of The Tavern, he was feeling better than he had any right to.

  CHAPTER 4

  “DEPUTY CHIEF MACALLISTER, sorry I'm late,” Vivi said as she walked into the hospital morgue the next day, fifteen minutes late. “I got stuck behind a tractor trailer somewhere between West Stockbridge and here.”

  “Call me Ian, and it's not a problem.” His clipped tone told her otherwise. She cast a glance at him as she scanned the room. No, it looked like it was a big problem. But, even with his tense jaw and tight fists, standing there in his uniform, he was a striking figure.

  “Need a hand with anything?” he asked as she set her workbag down on a table.

  She shook her head. “Is that her?” Vivi motioned toward a shroud-covered table and Ian nodded. The room was standard-issue hospital morgue, complete with linoleum tile floors, body storage for six, and that unique scent of industrial cleaner and human waste. In addition to the table that now held her things and the gurney holding the skeleton, the only other pieces of furniture were an outdated, chunky wood desk and a red, padded chair on wheels.

  “Did you think I wasn't going to come?” she asked as she began removing her equipment. She wouldn't have access to all her goods, but she did have an excellent camera, her computer, and a sketchpad. She would rely more on the camera and computer, but she liked having the option of the sketchpad.

  “No, you said you were coming.”

  “Then why the look when I walked in the room?” Vivi should have dropped it, but something nagged her not to. And she hoped that if she was casual about the question, he would feel casual about answering. Psychology 101. But when Ian didn't answer for a long moment, she looked up from her computer and focused on the man.

  He lifted a shoulder and turned his back to her on the pretense of picking up some papers from the desk. “Most folks around here are familiar with the roads, sometimes too familiar, and sometimes they aren't used to seeing other people on them. They drive crazier than I would like.”

  He'd been worried about her—about her safety. Not whether she would bail on him. The realization brought her up short, though she didn't show it. Vivi didn't often work with people who cared about her outside of what she could bring to a case. It was new and kind of sweet, but judging by his posture, something told her he wouldn't appreciate the sentiment if she said so.

  “I'm sorry you have to stay,” she commented instead, dropping it. She wasn't officially part of the investigation so couldn't be left alone with the evidence. “I'll try to work quickly but it could take a few hours.”

  “Not a problem. Mind if I watch?”

  She shook her head and Ian approached her side. “I'll take a detailed set of pictures first,” she started explaining. “Normally I like to handle the skull itself, but since that isn't possible right now, this should be pretty good. Once I have a complete set of pictures, I'llupload them to my computer and then start running the reconstruction software. It's a little bit art and a little bit science, so it can take some time, depending on how things go.”

  “Fair enough,” he said, stepping aside as she began to take pictures. She chatted with him as she snapped away, telling him about her day and other inconsequential things.

  Forty-five minutes later, Vivi popped the camera's memory card into her computer, created a file, and dumped all the pictures into it. One by one, she pulled out images that gave her detail or insight she needed. There had been a few long strands of brown hair still attached to the scalp so she was using that information, along with basic statistics, to justify making the eyes brown and the skin not exactly dark, but not fair either.

  “This is the part that might take a while and I'll be a lot less chatty now,” she preemptively warned Ian. This part of what she did would take much more concentration than the photos. When he didn't respond, Vivi glanced up at him. He was leaning against a wall, ankles and arms crossed, looking for all the world like he could stay there for another twelve hours without so much as blinking. He raised an eyebrow at her.

  “Sorry, that was unnecessary,” she added with a rueful shake of her head. There was no way Ian MacAllister was going to start complaining. This was a cakewalk compared to some of the things he had probably been through.

  She worked on her computer for three hours before she was satisfied with her product. It might not be an exact image, but she hoped it was close enough to get some hits off the missing persons database, provided someone had reported her missing. Vivi sat back and stretched her arms over her head, working out the kinks in her neck and back.

  “Done?” Ian asked from behind her. She jumped at the sound of his voice. He'd been so quiet the entire time she'd been working, she had all but forgotten he was even in the room.

  “Yes,” she said, getting her bearings again. “Come have a look,” she added, sliding her chair to the side. She looked at the picture, then up at the man standing at her shoulder. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was frowning.

  “She looks like you,” he commented. She laughed.

  “A large portion of the population has brown hair and brown eyes and, I'll grant you, we both have those.” But beyond that, Vivi couldn't see much of a likeness.

  “You made her on the younger end of your age range.”

  Vivi tilted her head and examined the picture again. “I did. I'm not sure why. Without examining the bones, her age can't be precisely determined.”

  “Is that the ‘art’ part of the process?”

  “I suppose so. Again, I have to tell you, this may not be accurate.”

  “But it might be accurate enough to get some hits,” he finished her sentence. “And then we'll have to do some testing to be sure.” She nodded at his assessment.

  “Do you still have the bracelet she wore?” she asked.

  “Yes, there is a storage locker here where we put the little evidence, other than the body, that we have. Do you want to see it?” When she nodded, Ian turned and walked toward the back of the room without a word. He returned to her side a few minutes later with a box from the locker. After signing the sheet, he cut the tape and pulled out a small plastic bag, which he held up for her to see.

  Inside it was a plain, gold chain bracelet, nothing distinctive about it. “Is there a tag on the clasp?” she asked.

  He fingered the evidence through the plastic until the clasp came into view. “Nothing.”

  “Too bad. My cousins and I all had bracelets like that. Our moms gave them to us for confirmation. But ours all had small tags with the name of the jeweler and the date of the confirmation. Guess you aren't that lucky.”

  “Guess not,” he agreed, placing the bag back in the box and taping everything back together. When he moved to return the b
ox to the locker, she turned her gaze back to the body. It was such a loss. It always was. Yes, it was possible that the woman these bones had been was a terrible person, but chances were she wasn't. Chances were she'd had people in her life who'd loved her—and at least one person in her life who'd hated her.

  “You're thinking about asking to be officially put on this case, aren't you?” Lost in her thoughts about the Jane Doe on the table, Vivi hadn't noticed that Ian had come back to stand beside her. They both stared at the young woman.

  “I could,” she said, testing it more with herself than with him. “It's not like I have somewhere I need to be.”

  “It's also not like you've had a vacation in years,” Ian pointed out, much to her surprise.

  “It's an old crime, there might not be much to go on. You might wrap it up quickly if there aren't any leads,” she countered.

  “If there aren't any leads, then it won't matter if you're here or in Tahiti.”

  Vivi smiled. “Now, if I were in Tahiti, that would be another issue, but since I'm not, and I'm here, I can stay if you want.”

  She felt Ian studying her, no doubt weighing whether to look a gift horse in the mouth or not. She knew where he would come out.

  “I can't authorize you to come on board.”

  “Vic?”

  He nodded. “I'm in charge, but because I'm so new, my authority only goes so far, unless he is incapacitated rather than just difficult to reach.”

  “Who else can authorize me?”

  “I suppose Vic's boss, but she'll want to know why I don't have Vic's approval.”

  “The governor can authorize me.”

  “I'm sure she could,” he laughed. Then he caught her meaning. “Shit, you know the governor, don't you?” he said, running a hand through his hair.

  Vivi smiled again, pulled her cell from her purse, and dialed. Ian crossed his arms and leaned his hip against the table as Vivi put the phone on speaker.

  “Vivi!” came the governor's voice without preamble.

  “Hi, Kathryn. How are you?” Vivi always loved talking to Kathryn. The woman was more astute than anyone had a right to be, but what Vivi admired most was her compassion.

  “I'm fine,” she answered. “And how is my prodigal son, Daniel? He hasn't blown up anything in your lab again has he?”

  “Daniel is doing great. And he only blew up that one experiment that one time.” Vivi laughed, remembering the look on her student's face when his experiment hadn't gone quite right.

  “You wouldn't tell me if he weren't doing well anyway, would you, Professor?”

  Vivi laughed. “No, I would not. I leave it to your son to tell you what he wants you to know.”

  “You're far too ethical for my liking, Dr. DeMarco,” the governor rejoined in mock censure.

  “And Henry?” Vivi asked. “How is your handsome husband?”

  “My handsome husband has been talked into being interim dean of the engineering college and is regretting every moment of it. He can't wait to find a new permanent dean and get back into the classroom.”

  “He is a great professor. I'm sure the students will be glad to have him back.”

  “They will—but enough about us, what are you up to, my dear?”

  “Well, I'm in your neck of the woods.” Even without seeing Kathryn's face, she could feel the string of questions forming in the woman's head. They'd known each other long enough for Kathryn to know that Vivi wouldn't just find herself in the Hudson Valley. “Given everything that has happened in the past year, I thought I might take some time to wander around and lose myself a little bit.”

  Across the line, they heard Kathryn sigh and Vivi felt Ian's eyes on her, no doubt wondering what she meant about the last year. “No less than you deserve, my dear. But you do know what they say about losing oneself. You might not like what you find.”

  “Well, in this case it happens to be true. I found a dead body outside of Windsor.”

  Vivi glanced at Ian in the silence that followed. They could hear the governor clicking away on her keyboard.

  “Hhmm, so that was you?”

  “Did you pull up the report?” Vivi asked.

  “Yes, of course. Doesn't look like you have much to go on.”

  “We don't, but I just finished the reconstruction and I'd like to be authorized to work on the case.”

  “I can't imagine you need my approval for an authorization?”

  “The current chief of police is out of town and the acting chief is new and doesn't have the authority. We could have gone one step higher, but I figured this was faster and easier.”

  “Hhmm, well, the current chief is a real piece of work, Vic Ballard. I assume,” she paused, presumably scrolling through her files, “I assume Deputy Chief MacAllister is in charge?”

  “Yes, Ma'am,” he answered.

  “And you've convinced Vivi to look into the case for you?”

  “Dr. DeMarco offered to look into the case with me,” he clarified.

  “Well, if you've got her, hold onto her in every sense of the word, MacAllister. She's one in a million.” Vivi cut a glance to Ian, whose lips quirked into a grin. No chance he'd missed the governor's not-so-subtle attempt at matchmaking.

  “Totally inappropriate, Kathryn,” Vivi interjected.

  “Nonsense, dear. Someone has to look out for your love life since you don't.”

  “Really, Kathryn?” Vivi retorted with affectionate resignation. “He could be sixty and ugly.”

  “He's not. I have his file in front of me. Deputy Chief MacAllister?”

  “Yes, Ma'am?”

  “Please don't take this the wrong way, but you are a very good looking young man.”

  “I'm not sure there is a wrong way to take that, but thank you.”

  “You're welcome. Now, it's actually a jurisdictional pain in the ass to authorize you, Vivi, so I'll do it under one condition.”

  Vivi groaned, knowing the condition wasn't going to have anything to do with the case. “Of course, name it.”

  “You have to come to dinner while you're in the area.”

  That wasn't so bad.

  “And bring MacAllister with you.”

  “He's very busy, Kathryn.”

  “Fine, I'll have Henry invite that nice new assistant dean from the school.”

  Vivi cast him a questioning glance. She didn't know Ian MacAllister well, but she was sure he would be a better dinner companion than one of Henry's colleagues. Still, it was his call if he wanted to pay the price for getting her on the case.

  “I'd be happy to join you,” Ian said.

  “Excellent,” Kathryn commented, sounding way too pleased with herself. “MacAllister, email me the resource request and I'll have it back to you by the morning. Vivi, call Henry and set up a dinner.”

  They both agreed and when Vivi hung up she cast a wary look at Ian. “Sorry?” she offered.

  “That was not at all like I thought it would be,” he answered. “And I didn't know you were a professor, too?”

  “Adjunct,” she qualified. “I only take a couple of PhD students at any given time. Kathryn's son, Daniel, is one of them. We've known each other for a while.”

  “I can tell. How did you meet?” he asked as she moved to gather her things.

  “Sad story, really. Daniel is a grad student of mine now. But back when he was sixteen, before his mother was even in politics, he contacted me to help with a cold case. When he was six, his twin sister was kidnapped from their home.”

  “I think I remember my parents saying something about that when she was running for election.”

  “Yes, the kidnapping came up a lot during her campaign, as I'm sure you can imagine. But you were probably out of the country at the time.” Knowing he wouldn't confirm or deny, she continued. “Anyway, Daniel read some article about me and some case I'd worked on. He contacted me to ask for help, and how could I say no to a sixteen-year-old who only wanted to find his sister? So I took the case.” />
  She paused while Ian slid the table that held their Jane Doe into one of the wall crypts and checked the locks on everything.

  “Did you find her?” he asked.

  “We did.” They resumed the conversation as they headed out of the hospital. “It wasn't a happy ending. Kristen had been killed within hours of when she was taken. But we did find her body and we did find at least one of the people involved.”

  “At least one?”

  “If you ask me, there were at least two, maybe three people involved. But the only one we caught was a former student of Henry's. Turns out she was obsessed with him and thought that if she took his daughter they could run off and have a family together. When Kristen fought, the woman struck her. The blow knocked Kristen down and she hit her head on a rock, killing her instantly.”

  “That's shitty.”

  “Yeah, understatement. But Kathryn and I have been friends ever since. Despite the fact that she keeps trying to marry me off.”

  They reached their cars and stopped. “Is that such a bad thing?” Ian asked.

  “Not really, but except for Henry, she doesn't have very good taste. Don't get me wrong, the men she tries to set me up with are all great. Nice guys, accomplished and all that. But they are like younger versions of Henry.”

  “Which worked for her.”

  “But isn't my type,” Vivi ended the sentence then realized where the conversation had gone. “I should go.”

  “Do you want to grab some dinner first? It's close to seven.”

  She shook her head. “I need to get back and make some calls—let my family know where I am, that sort of thing. I have some errands to run in the morning, but I'll come back down to the hospital after lunch and begin my investigation.”

  “Sounds good,” Ian said, opening her door for her.

  “I'll call you in the morning to make sure I'm cleared first,” she added.

  He nodded. “You know where to find me.”

  * * *

  Ian watched Vivienne drive away before getting into his own car. He was attracted to her, no way around it. And on more than a physical level. She was a woman of contradictions. To call her intriguing was too cliché, but there was no other way he could describe her. She was friends with the governor, an international traveler, an FBI consultant, a professor, and a medical examiner. But when she relaxed, she was quick with a smile, more empathetic than was probably healthy, and felt too obligated to the dead and the living they left behind—not that he had any right to fault her for that since he was benefiting from it at the moment. Ian couldn't help but identify with her—he knew a thing or two about feeling obligated and what it could do to a person. He reached down and rubbed his thigh and, even through his pants, he could feel the raised scars along his leg. Letting out a breath, he brought his hand up to turn the key in the ignition and started for home.