The Body Reader Read Free Page B

keeping it together. He’d been keeping it together a long time.
    Once the cuffs were removed, Uriah pulled out his phone, opened an app. “Hold out your hand.”
    Her nails were broken, every crevice of her palm lined with grime. The bones of her wrist were covered in a thin layer of transparent skin, and what flesh remained bore evidence of abuse—deep red lines, swelling, and signs of infection. When he looked back up, he found himself staring into the face of starvation.
    He pressed her finger against the screen, capturing the print, hit a few buttons, and within a minute he had a match. In horror and fascination, he stared at the photo of a dark-haired, attractive woman. Not your standard department headshot—the person on the screen looked vibrant and mischievous. Detective Jude Fontaine.
    He knew her story. One evening she’d left her house to go for a jog and never returned. A team of detectives, many no longer with the force, had failed to solve the case.
    He glanced back at the sunken cheeks, cracked lips, skin the color of paste.
    Squinting as if the weak emergency lighting hurt her eyes, she asked, “What did that tell you?” Her words were thick and breathless, as if it hurt to breathe, hurt to speak. He took note of her swollen jaw, and looking back down at her hand he saw that some of her fingers were slightly crooked, possibly from old breaks. Evidence of torture. He swallowed.
    “Don’t,” she whispered.
    She’d read him again. Of course, this time his reaction would have been apparent to a blind person. Don’t feel sorry for me.
    He’d witnessed unspeakable brutality in his line of work, and this woman in front of him was nothing new when it came to victims. In fact, she was doing better than many. She was alive.
    Maybe it was because she was one of them. A cop. Maybe that’s why seeing her this way bothered him so much. Maybe that’s why he felt something even though he hadn’t allowed himself to feel anything for a long time.
    She’d asked if he’d replaced her. It was close to the truth. He’d been brought in a few months after she’d gone missing. Grant Vang had been in charge of her case, but Uriah had been briefed on it, enough to know there were few clues left behind other than a witness claiming to have seen a woman fitting Fontaine’s description being pulled into a van. Nothing ever came of that story. Tip lines were half bullshit, but abduction had always been the most likely scenario. Uriah had figured her for dead. They’d all figured her for dead. It had the hallmarks of a pro job, the conclusion being that she’d been murdered the night of her abduction, her body disposed of. Probably a revenge killing. Unfortunately not unheard of when it came to cops.
    “How’d you get here?”
    “The power went out. I escaped. I walked.”
    He had a million other questions. The who, the how, the why. But this wasn’t the time. Right now she needed medical help, not an interrogation. “I’m going to have Officer Nettles escort you to the Hennepin County Medical Center. Later I’ll stop by to talk to you. How does that sound?”
    “Will I be able to lie down in a bed?”
    A hospital, the thing most people dreaded, sounded appealing to her because it would have a bed. He felt that tightness in his throat again. “Yes,” he said quietly.

CHAPTER 3
    W hat are her injuries?” Uriah asked. “Other than the obvious.”
    In the hospital hallway, the doctor stuck her hands deep in the pockets of her lab coat. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
    Six hours had passed since Jude Fontaine’s appearance at the police station. Power was back, and streets were calm. She’d been examined, cleaned up, and given a private room. Uriah had made it home long enough to grab a few hours of sleep and a shower. He’d also contacted Chief Ortega, who’d put him in charge of Jude’s case, her reason being that it might be easier for Fontaine to deal with someone she didn’t know. Uriah