Page 11 of Manner of Death

McKay exhaled. “All right, so internal bleeding prior to evisceration—any idea what caused it?”

“As a matter of fact—yes.” Bashir picked up a small vial off a tray beside the vacant and cleaned autopsy table. “I found this lodged in his T7 vertebra.”

The detectives both stared slack-jawed at the mushroomed .22 caliber bullet inside the vial.

“I couldn’t tell you where it went in.” Bashir handed the vial to Villeray. “I suspect the entry wound was destroyed. There’s also too much damage to the ribs and other bones for me to tell you where the bullet ricocheted on its way through the body. But when I took a closer look at his heart, there was a series of holes that match the round.” He furrowed his brow as he watched the men inspecting the bullet in question. “I suspect he took at least two hits. I couldn’t tell you where the first was, though.”

McKay’s skepticism returned.

Villeray’s curiosity, however, intensified. “Two? How do you figure?”

“Because the damage done to the heart would’ve resulted in, at the very least, near instantaneous loss of consciousness. If you take another look at the blood at the crime scene, you’ll find there was substantial blood left at the scene before the branch came through the window.” Shaking his head, he said, “There’s no way he moved around that much and made that much of a mess after the shot to his heart. Most likely, he was dead in seconds, with the blood pooling in his abdominal cavity rather than being ejected through his wounds by his heart or his movements.”

McKay didn’t seem to be buying it, but Villeray jumped in. “He’s right.” Turning to his partner, he added, “And there were leaves and broken glass on top of the blood.”

The older detective blinked. Then he looked down at the vial in his hand. After a moment, he faced Bashir. “So… are you telling me someone shot Upworth, fought with him, shot him again, and then staged an accidental death by chainsaw?”

Bashir nodded. “Looks like it, yes. My guess is that if you revisit the scene, you’ll find at least one bullet of the same caliber. A bullet hole, if not the round itself.”

McKay pushed out a breath. “Why in the hell would someone do all that?”

“Well, detective.” Bashir smiled. “I do believe that’s your job to figure out.”

Chapter 4

“What a load of shit.”

Sawyer just managed to hold back his eyeroll as the two of them walked out of the morgue, copies of the preliminary autopsy report in hand. Or, in this case, rolled up tight and being smacked into Kurt’s palm like if he hit the papers hard enough, the words on them would change.

“So it’s a homicide,” Sawyer said. “We as good as knew that already.”

“Suspecting it is one thing, having it confirmed by the goddamn M.E.…” Kurt shook his head. “And this is after you already dug into Upworth and found a lot of nothing, goddamn nothing. This guy was as boring as the dirt he farmed.”

Sawyer shrugged. “I might have missed something.”

“You haven’t yet.”

It was nice to get what amounted to a round of applause from his partner, but Sawyer would have preferred one from Dr. Ramin. Speaking of… Sawyer stopped and shook his head. “Damn it.”

“What?”

“I forgot my phone in the morgue.”

Kurt looked at him incredulously. “Forgot your…what the fuck did you have your phone out for?” His expression darkened. “You weren’t taking pictures, were you? ‘Cause sharing photos of the deceased would do more than get us canned, it would get us sent to fucking jail. And get your phone seized as evidence. If you put one damn pic up on Tock Tick or whatever the hell it is, I will—”

“Kurt.” Sawyer put a calming hand on the other man’s shoulder and tried not to take the attack personally. He’s going through a lot. That didn’t mean he had to be such a dick, though. “I was just using it to check the time.”

“That’s what you wear a damn watch for!”

This time, Sawyer gave in to rolling his eyes as he pulled back his sleeves. “Do you see a watch on my wrists?”

Kurt sighed. “Goddamn kids these days…”

“I’m thirty-seven.”

“Kids.” He shook his finger at Sawyer. “You need a watch.”

“And you need another cup of coffee.” Sawyer pointed him toward the lobby’s coffee machine, which he’d oh-so-conveniently stopped beside as he “remembered” his lost phone. “Grab one to go and I’ll be back in a minute. Less than a minute.”