Free Dead Insider by Victoria Houston Page B

recently severed. Within the last forty-eight hours or so, given the coloring and the blood.”
    “Male or female?”
    “No idea. Let’s see what else is here. That may help, but Wausau will be able to tell you for sure.”
    Next was the bundle that Stan had unwrapped. Lew took a quick look. “Careful, Doc, it’s upsetting.” She got to her feet and turned her face into the breeze, as if hoping to cleanse the sight from her memory. “I’ve seen a lot since I’ve been on the force but never anything like this …”
    Osborne knelt on the wet ground beside the open door. He knew from experience that moving the butcher paper any more than was necessary might contaminate the crime scene. After pulling on a pair of nitrile gloves, he leaned into the squad car, keeping his head tilted to one side to avoid blocking the beam from the dome light above.
    With a delicate touch, he parted the folds of the butcher paper. He stared. He could hear Lew breathing beside him as she gathered up the courage to take another look. He leaned back to reach into his medical bag.
    Even before he pushed aside the dark tendrils covering the dead white face with one of his instruments, he had the sensation he had seen this skull, these cheekbones, this jaw before. Paul Osborne was a man who might forget names, but never a face.
    Dropping his hands to his sides, Osborne sat back on his heels. “I hope you’re ready for a shock,” he said, keeping his voice low.
    Lew put a hand on his arm. “Someone you know?”
    “Jane Ericsson.”
    Lew said nothing for a long moment. “You’re sure.”
    “Positive. And I can prove it. Back when she was a teenager, I filled a couple of cavities for her. The record will be in my files. If you need a first-degree relative for the official ID, you’ll have to depend on Kaye Lund. Jane has no family left alive, but Kaye has known her since childhood.”
    “She’ll have to do,” said Lew.
    “That worries me, Lew. Kaye is not a well person. This will be quite a shock.”
    “Oh great. Just what I need: give the only person who can identify the victim a heart attack. They didn’t offer training on that at the police academy. We’ll need to soften the news somehow.”
    Osborne nodded. “Want me to take care of it?”
    Years of informing patients they needed thousands of dollars of dental work or they would lose their teeth had taught Osborne how to broach a difficult subject with the grace and sympathy that might help a listener cope.
    “Please. If you would, Doc. Meanwhile, everything stays as is until I can get one of the Wausau boys up here.
    “Roger?” Lew called out to the deputy who was leaning against her cruiser. “I want you to cordon off this entire block. As neighbors wake up, please explain that we can’t have anyone walking, biking, or driving around here. This is a crime scene. I’ll call Deputy Donovan and ask him to give you a hand.”
    She turned to Stan. “You need to call your boss—”
    “Yep,” said Stan, “Bert Gilligan’s who I work for.”
    “Let him know what the situation is. I’ll give you my cell number. He can call me if he has questions. And both of you,” said Lew, looking hard at the deputy and the utility worker, “no one talks to the media except me. Got it? This is going to cause an uproar over the next few days, and I have to be able to depend on your silence—or you could jeopardize the case. Besides which, you two are witnesses. You wouldn’t want the person behind this coming after you, would you?” Both men looked unsettled.
    After Lew gave Roger more detailed instructions on how she wanted the squad car and Stan’s pickup protected, she and Osborne headed back to her cruiser. As she shut the car door, her cell phone rang. She checked the screen before answering, and a wave of relief crossed her face.
    “Bruce! Thank you for calling so soon. I have Doc Osborne here with me—okay if I put you on speaker?”
    “Sure.” The voice of the young