Bad Moon Rising by Katherine Sutcliffe Page B

certain. Considering the amount of
blood loss before death, I’d be willing to wager my reputation that her throat
was cut.”
    “Evidence of sexual activity?”
    “Nope. Not before or after death. I don’t think it’s
sexual appreciation that’s giving this guy his jollies.”
    “Did the CSI team pick up any evidence?”
    She grinned and continued labeling. “That’s not my job
description, J.D.”
    “Your husband must have said something.”
    “Don’t ask me to go there. My husband would chew my
butt good if he knew I’d told you as much as I have.” Janice tugged the shield
from her face and tossed it onto the table. “Let the department do its job,
okay? Stay out of it. It’s none of your business.”
    “It damn well is my business, and you know it.”
    She finally turned her gaze up to his. Her eyes showed
sympathy, the deep lines in her brow concern. “We’re dealing with a prostitute,
J.D. God knows how many men have been in these women’s apartments.”
    “What about the bodies?”
    “Clean as a whistle. No latent prints, hair, or
seminal fluids.” She rested one broad hip against the desk and pinned him with
her eyes. “Look, I can appreciate how you’re feeling—”
    “I’m getting pretty tired of hearing how everyone appreciates
how I feel. My wife and kids are dead, Janice, and a man was executed for murders
he didn’t commit.”
    “We don’t know that. Yet.”
    “The M.O. is identical.”
    “It was a well-publicized crime. Gonzalez wasn’t the
first nut to cut off women’s heads. It happens. Two months ago, some freak
decapitated a woman and hung her head from a flagpole on Jackson Square. Why?
Because she cut him off at a traffic light. The world, unfortunately, is full
of weirdos.”
    He reached past her and retrieved Cherry’s exam report
from the desk, scanned it briefly before focusing again on Janice’s face. “Hacksaw.
Evisceration wounds by probable surgical type blade.”
    “All public record, you know that.” She sighed. “J.D.,
those murders were well documented. Three books were written on the crimes that
I know of. Hell, have you had a look on the Internet? It’s there in all its
gory detail, including photos.”
    He looked away. “I’ve seen them.”
    She put a comforting hand on his arm. “Why do you
insist on doing this to yourself? It’s eating you up. You’ve let it destroy
your career and your health. It’s been four years. At some point you’ve got to
move on.”
    “If I thought the right man had been executed, maybe I
could.”
    A door opened and a woman peered in, her eyes brightening
as she noted J.D. “Hey, gorgeous. Long time no see. We’ve missed your
harassment around here.”
    He grinned. “Hi, Connie. How’s the family?”
    “Great. My daughter is still single, by the way. Hint,
hint.”
    He laughed.
    Janice elbowed him. “She’s pretty, too. Just what you
need right now. Or are you still dating that gal from records?”
    Shrugging, he tossed the report back onto the desk. “Off
and on. Nothing serious.”
    “Great,” Connie said. “Maybe there’s hope yet. Doc,
you have a phone call. Sounds important.”
    Janice smiled. “Sorry. Duty calls. Maybe we’ll do
lunch soon?”
    J.D. nodded.
    He followed Janice out of the exam room and watched as
she strode down the corridor, her bloodied scrub suit flapping around her legs.
As she disappeared around a corner, he moved down the hallway, passing several
empty exam rooms, and paused at the closed door of the file room. He entered
and moved swiftly to the wall of files, to the “D” storage. When he located the
folder labeled Damascus , laura , he withdrew the file and made his way cautiously through the
reception area and back out through the wide, double doors, coming face-to-face
with Holly Jones.
    Stopping short, he glared down into her irate blue
eyes. “Why the hell are you still here?”
    “I can’t pay this.” She waved the statement under his
nose. “I’m not made