Chapter 2 A Question No One Wanted Asked

"My fingernails. Look at my right middle finger. There's a piece of his skin there."

I jerked my head down.

Sherry's right hand was limply resting at her side in death; her fingers were slightly curled in rigor mortis. Her nails were trimmed short and painted a pale pink. There was nothing obviously unusual about them.

Still, I ignored Lucian's icy glare that was trying to pierce a hole through my skull as I pulled on a pair of gloves, picked up a magnifying glass, and leaned in.

And there it was—a tiny, dark red fragment lodged beneath the nail of her right middle finger.

It was incredibly small. I would have easily mistaken it for dried blood if I hadn't been looking for it.

My breath caught in my throat as I blurted, "Captain Slate."

I looked up, my voice tight. "I found what appears to be skin tissue under the victim's right middle fingernail. I recommend collecting it for DNA testing."

Julian walked over.

He was in his early 30s, with sharp features and an austere expression. He was famous for being a workaholic in the Criminal Investigation Division.

He bent down for a look, and his expression shifted ever so slightly.

Lucian came back to the body as well. He looked for only a second before his expression darkened.

"The bathtub was a contaminated scene. Finding debris under a fingernail is perfectly normal."

I asked, "But if this was suicide, why would she have someone else's skin under her nail?"

"Can you confirm that's skin tissue?"

"No. That's why it needs to be tested."

Lucian fixed his eyes on me. "Summer, do you realize what you're doing?"

Of course, I did. I was questioning the conclusion of a respected forensic pathologist.

I was an intern. Yet, here I was, trying to stop a suicide report that was about to be finalized. I was also well aware that my internship at the city's police department would end right here if I was wrong.

But Sherry was still crying in my ear. "Please. My mom only has me."

Just then, Sherry's mother pushed herself up against the wall. Her eyes were swollen red, and her voice was so hoarse and thick with grief that she barely sounded human.

"Officer, my daughter would never kill herself. She told me just yesterday that she was taking me to the hospital for my follow-up this weekend. She wouldn't leave me behind like that."

At that moment, I was suddenly reminded of the day we buried my grandmother.

Just before they closed her coffin, she gently whispered in my ear, "Summer, don't be afraid of the dead. The dead won't hurt you. The truly frightening ones are the living when they choose to stay silent."

I lifted my head and made sure to enunciate each word clearly. "Captain Slate, I'd like to request a second examination."

The air in the autopsy room seemed to freeze the second those words fell from my lips.

Julian did not answer right away.

However, Lucian looked livid. He removed his glasses and slowly wiped the lenses with a cleaning cloth, his voice unnervingly calm as he spoke. "You're requesting one?"

He looked at me as though I were an arrogant fool who had no idea how the world worked. "Summer, you're not qualified to issue an independent forensic opinion."

"I know," I said through my fear. "That's why I'm only making a recommendation."

"A recommendation?" He let out a cold laugh. "Your so-called recommendation would force the detectives to reopen their investigation, give the victim's family false hope, and delay a case that's already perfectly clear. Can you bear the consequences if you fail?"

My fingertips turned cold.

Julian finally spoke. "Mr. Vance, since we've found what appears to be tissue, collecting it and sending it to the lab won't delay the process."

Lucian froze for a moment before demanding, "Captain Slate, do you think I made a mistake?"