Save Her Child by CJ Lyons (best historical biographies txt) 📗

Maggie’s voice dropped. “I counted over twenty blows based on the external contusions. All from the same weapon. The wound patterns suggest it was one of the wooden slats from the alley, if that helps.”

Harper knew it was almost impossible to lift fingerprints from rough lumber and there was no way the CSU budget would cover testing every length of wood for touch DNA, given that there’d been a dozen or more in the alley. Besides, with the amount of traffic that the alley saw, any DNA they found could be explained away as transfer from an innocent bystander.

“So she was punched in the face, then hit on the back of her head—” She stopped. One step at a time, she heard Luka’s voice of caution. “Was the blow to the head inflicted with the same weapon as her other injuries?”

“Looks like it, but we’ll need microscopic comparisons to be sure.”

Which meant they needed the autopsy completed before Harper would have more than a working theory—but at least it was progress.

“Did you locate next of kin yet?” Maggie asked.

“No. She didn’t have a driver’s license, and every time she was arrested she used a slightly different name: Lily, Lilian, Lili with an i, Nolan with an a, i, or e, and Dolan—”

“With an a, i, or e,” Maggie finished for her. “These kids, they leave their families for a reason. They aren’t looking to be found. With no official government ID, it’s like they don’t even exist.”

“I know. I ran her photo and details through every missing persons database, but so far no matches.”

“She’d only be in the database if someone cared enough to report her missing,” Maggie said.

“Right now, that’s just you and me.”

“Maybe it’s good that her autopsy is delayed.”

“Why’s that?”

Maggie hesitated. “We don’t have space to keep unclaimed bodies for long, so it means the clock hasn’t started, since we haven’t completed our examination.”

Suddenly the protein drink Harper had gulped was threatening to turn rancid. “Do me a favor? Call me before that happens. I can’t stand the idea of her being cremated, her ashes tossed in the back of some storage closet.”

“You know I’d never let that happen.”

“Thanks, Maggie.”

“No problem. I’ll call you once we have Lily’s autopsy on the schedule. I’m headed home now, but you’ll have Ford and Joel there for the Standish case.” She hung up.

Harper kept driving. Hopefully she could get some work done on Lily’s case while she was observing the Standish autopsy—there was always a lot of downtime while the medical examiner did all their routine stuff, especially when the ME was Ford Tierney.

She thought back to the first cases she’d worked with Luka when she was still a patrol officer. What would he say when faced with a case full of dead ends and no active leads? He’d tell her to start with the victim: understand the victim’s life and you’ll understand why they were targeted, how their world and the killer’s intersected. Even if she knew nothing of Lily’s life now or before she initially arrived in Cambria City, she could still try the rehab facility where she’d been last year. Except it might take hours to days to get a court order for medical records.

Her phone rang. Rachel. Harper cursed—she really didn’t have time to deal with one of her mother’s guilt trips. She’d already told her that she wouldn’t betray her badge to get the Reverend inside information on the Standish case. She almost ignored the call, but finally relented. Maybe Rachel was calling to apologize.

“Are you all right, Naomi?” Rachel asked. “You didn’t answer when I called back last night.”

So. No apology for asking Harper to compromise her morals. Only denial that anything had happened at all. Typical Rachel. “Sorry, Mom. I got tied up.”

Rachel paused as if waiting for Harper to say something more, but Harper had no idea what. Surely Rachel wasn’t expecting Harper to be the one to apologize. “So what are you doing?” Rachel finally asked. “Following a juicy lead? Tailing a perp?”

Her attempt at slang left Harper smiling. “You’ve been watching too much TV.”

“Don’t tell your father; he thinks I never watch anything that’s not rated PG. But it is rather exciting. Can you tell me anything?”

For the first time, Harper realized exactly how boring her mother’s life must be. Especially now that all the children were out of the house and the Reverend no longer needed her help running Holy Redeemer. Funny, she’d never thought what it must be like to live in the shadow of a larger-than-life man like the Reverend. What had her mother wanted for herself? Harper knew Rachel had never gone to college—had she ever thought of a career or any life other than the one she had?

For some reason Harper thought of Lily. Rachel and Lily’s lives couldn’t be more different, yet she had an intuition that both felt trapped by their circumstances. She shook off the idea—how could she possibly compare Rachel’s life of privilege to Lily’s life on the streets?

“Right now, I’m actually on my way to the morgue—” she answered Rachel.

“Your prostitute killed in the alley, of course.” Rachel sounded disappointed. Harper was about to explain that she was attending the Standish autopsy, but then she realized that was exactly the kind of information Rachel was trying to wrangle. Was she actually interested in Harper’s life at all? Was she merely bored and looking to Harper for distraction? No, Harper didn’t believe that. Rachel was acting as she had Harper’s entire life, doing whatever was needed to help the Reverend succeed.

“Sorry, Mom. I don’t really have time to talk.”

“Well, perhaps you could come to dinner or call me later? We’d love to hear more about your big case. It was even on the news last night.” Her mother didn’t say it, but it was clear: all she really cared about was Spencer Standish’s case.

As she hung up, Harper couldn’t