She was sure he would avoid her again and fretted over her impulsive act for half the night. She wanted his kisses, but she wanted his company even more. If he made himself scarce again, she would not be able to endure it.
But he was ready to go to the morgue after breakfast, just as he’d said he would, and other than a reluctance to meet her gaze, he was his helpful, if grumpy, self.
“Remember the woman wrapped in the quilt her grandmother made?” she asked him as they walked, needing something to talk about that had nothing to do with stolen kisses or regret.
“Nettie?” he replied.
“Yes, Nettie.” It pleased her that he would remember the woman’s name.
“How could I forget?”
“Well . . . something strange happened.”
He finally looked at her directly, intently, and heat suffused her cheeks from the welcome weight of his stare, but she made herself continue with her story.
“When the gravediggers came to retrieve her, she wasn’t there.”
He frowned, his eyes still holding hers. “Nettie . . . The woman who was wrapped in the quilt and nothing else . . . and dead from unknown causes?”
“Yes.”
“That was two weeks ago.”
“Yes. We prepared her Thursday morning. They came to retrieve her Saturday evening.”
“And she wasn’t there?” He had stopped walking.
“That’s what I was told. They saw my record, and it matched their order, but the morgue was empty. They assumed it was a mistake, though Mr. Raus called me. I came down, and sure enough, Nettie was gone. Her quilt was gone too. If you had not been with me, I might have thought I was going mad.”
“Maybe someone claimed her after all.”
“How? When? I’m not exactly sure how it all works. That’s never been my responsibility. But there’s a process for identification, I’m sure, at the city morgue. We don’t see the bodies at the indigent facility until that process is over.”
“That is bizarre. I’m surprised you’re just telling me about it now.” There was a distinct note of censure in his tone. He began walking again. She hurried to catch up and stumbled, partly from affront, partly from haste. His hand shot out to steady her, wrapping around her arm. He immediately let go.
“You were not here, Michael. And when you returned . . . I was distracted.” She tripped again when she thought about why she’d been so distracted, and he gripped her elbow.
“If you keep tripping, I’m going to insist on pulling you in the wagon.”
“I can walk fine. You just keep . . . infuriating me.”
“Yeah. Well,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets.
For a moment she stewed, and it wasn’t until she was unlocking the door to the facility that she shared her other question, one that had persisted since the body had gone missing. She knew she might sound like a fool, but her naivete was becoming a common theme. She might as well ask.
“That’s the first time something like that has happened here,” she began, pushing into the dark warehouse. “A body disappearing, I mean. It made me wonder. Is the Butcher killing people, or is he working his experiments on people who are already dead?”
“You think he might be chopping people up after they’re already dead?” Michael asked, incredulous, following her inside.
She flipped on the lights and waited for her eyes to adjust. “Has that been ruled out?”
He nodded. “It’s been ruled out. I wish that were the case, gruesome as it still is. But he’s killing people.”
“How do you know?” she challenged, curious.
“Because the victims of the Butcher are drained of blood.”
She stared at him, not understanding.
“If they were already dead when he began hacking away, Dani, there would still be blood in their veins,” he explained. “Blood that isn’t circulating coagulates. The Butcher’s victims die from decapitation while they are still alive, while their hearts are still beating. There is no blood left in the bodies he’s discarded.”
Dani felt a little faint and steadied herself internally. “But when a body is embalmed, it too is drained of blood,” she persisted.
“And replaced with an embalming solution. It wouldn’t take long for a coroner to note the difference between loss of blood from decapitation versus the absence of blood from embalming. Not to mention, there is blood evidence in many of the cases. There would be no blood evidence if the Butcher was simply chopping up the embalmed.”