Back in the SUV, he fastened his seat belt. His mind still whirled from Heather’s revelation. “He kept a big secret from his wife. I worked with Oscar for a decade, but it seems I didn’t really know anything about him either.”
“What he did went beyond keeping a secret. It was heartless, cruel, and selfish.”
“I wonder what other lies we’ll uncover as we dig into his life.”
Bree started the engine. “I have a feeling there will be more. But his isn’t the only life I want to dig into. Let’s find out everything we can about Heather. She claims to be putting his deception aside, but it’s clear she’s still plenty mad. She’s had years for that anger to stew.”
“Maybe she was angry enough to kill him.”
Bree agreed. “We have two potential suspects, and neither of them has an alibi.”
CHAPTER NINE
Bree mulled over the interview as she drove out of the parking lot. Oscar’s ex, Heather, had seemed controlled, but Bree had the sense that Oscar’s betrayal had burrowed deep. His lies had affected her whole life, had robbed her of the one thing she’d wanted.
And he’d done it purposefully.
Why? Why did he marry Heather? Their entire relationship had been built on a lie.
Would Heather be able to recover? Or would her rage be the kind that fed itself over time?
“Where to?” Matt asked.
“The ME’s office. I’d like to catch part of Oscar’s autopsy.”
“Would you really?” Matt’s tone suggested he didn’t concur.
“Yes.” Bree felt as if attending autopsies gave her a better understanding of a murder. Not all detectives agreed.
“It feels wrong because we knew Oscar, like we’re invading his privacy.”
“Unfortunately, solving his murder requires us to do just that.” Before the case was solved, they would know everything there was to know about Eugene Oscar. But were they too close to the victim?
“Fine.” Matt sighed. “But I’m not sure what we’re going to learn in this case that we couldn’t learn from a phone call. The cause of death seemed pretty evident, and we’re on the clock.”
Bree headed for the municipal complex. He was right. Their time was valuable. The first forty-eight hours of any investigation were typically the most fruitful.
Admittedly, her preference for attending autopsies was partially emotional. In order to stand for the dead, she felt obligated to view the damage caused by their killers, to understand what they suffered in a personal way that couldn’t be conveyed through medical terms written in a clinical report. She needed to see what they’d endured with her own eyes.
While Matt thought viewing Oscar’s autopsy was an intrusion, Bree thought skipping it would be disrespectful, as if she weren’t giving his case 100 percent.
Every truth was in the eyes of the beholder.
They parked and went inside. They checked in with the receptionist, who buzzed them into the back rooms. In the antechamber, they donned gowns, gloves, masks, booties, and face shields before entering the autopsy suite.
Oscar lay on a stainless-steel table, his chest splayed open. The scale next to the body looked like it could have come from the produce section of the grocery store. It was currently weighing Oscar’s heart.
The sharp scent of formalin accompanied the stink of decomp.
Dr. Jones looked up, both hands still buried in Oscar’s chest cavity. “There you are.”
Bree approached the table. Oscar had been beaten and shot four times. He had suffered. No doubt about that. She allowed herself a minute of pity, then shifted into detective mode. Regardless of her personal conflicts with Oscar, he hadn’t deserved this. She would bring him justice. “Anything notable?”
“Victim’s ID has been confirmed with dental records, though we all knew this is former Deputy Oscar.” The ME paused for a breath. “He was a healthy, middle-age male of normal weight with good muscle tone. He took care of himself. I’ve found no sign of disease.” Dr. Jones lifted her hands and pointed a bloody glove toward discolorations on the lower half of the body. “Livor mortis is fixed and seems concentrated in the lower body, as expected in a seated victim. Therefore, the victim was likely in the same position as when he was killed.”
When the heart stopped beating, gravity made the blood pool in the lowest areas. The result was purple discoloration of the skin.
“So he wasn’t moved after death,” Bree confirmed.
“Correct.” The ME nodded toward Oscar’s legs. “As you can see, his kneecaps were both destroyed by bullets, and he was shot in the shoulder.”