Taking a moment for a lunch break I thought I would share some of one of the novels I'm working on at present. Yes, that means I have multiple works in progress. 3 right now, yeah I like punishment but that's another post :)
Please enjoy the first chapter of Every Waking Moment. Comments are more than welcome just keep in mind this is a rough draft so t'ain't perfect folks :)
Chapter 1
The doors to the autopsy room burst open as the gurney was pushed into them. Brady looked up from laying out the tools of his trade on the small table. “Got a hot date tonight Tim?”
Tim grinned and smoothed the front of his shirt. “Yeah baby, aren't you ready yet? I have big plans for us tonight."
Brady shook his head laughing as the gurney was rolled next to the table. Unzipping the bag to reveal a young woman who looked to have met a brutal end. Beaten, stabbed and a gun shot to the head. Welts that looked like bug bites all over her. "Where was she discovered?"
"Lake Sellers, near the water her feet were hanging over the dock. That's why her shoes and jean bottoms are soaked. You might find a fish in there."
Brady gave him a look. "You know the rules all jokes are off when the bag's open." He moved her gently from the bag to the autopsy table pulling the clipboard from the shelf of the tray table. Brady's eyes moved over every inch as he walked around the body. Looking for the smallest bit of evidence that would help catch some one capable of this act.
Picking up one of her hands he examined the broken nails and began to scrap under the bits that were left. "You really fought back, didn't you."
On his diagram he marked the cuts and abrasions on her hands. Using lifting tape to collect various fibers and samples for the forensics team. There was even tissue between her teeth she had bitten her attacker. "You gave him some back...." He looked for a name on the sheet but there wasn't one. "Timmy, was there any ID?"
Tim looked up from his form with a shake of his head. "Nope, no purse or wallet, cell phone. Not even lip gloss in her pockets. One of the detectives that showed up said she must have been dumped."
Brady grinned when he said no lip gloss. She did look like a lip gloss gal, no lipstick just gloss. He could tell she had been a pretty girl though the slash marks on her face made it hard for the average Joe to see. Undressing her he looked for anything they might have missed on scene. Police can't search a body like a live subject. Move a body around to much and you lose evidence.
Inside her jacket on the underside of the tag were initials in black permanent marker. Permanent marker might work on other things but after about thirty washings the ink still bleeds into a black blotch on the material.
Brady tried to decipher the splotch but there was no clue as to what it might have been. Going through the rest of her clothing as he removed it carefully there were no other clues. "We'll just have to see if you're prints are in the system."
Carefully he began to finish with the collection as Tim walked over. "You know if one of these ever answers you I'm going to pass out."
Brady laughed. "That makes two of us. Now make yourself useful and take some prints and fax them to the nice detectives."
Setting the clipboard with the diagram on the edge of the table he started to diagram all the stab wounds. There were too many for her attacker to be sane, this was cruelty. None alone would be a killing blow but together with the loss of blood..... "Who did you make this angry?"
Tim finished the print card and waved it to dry the ink. "You think she had a jilted lover?"
Shaking his head Brady looked at her fingers again no jewelry either. "No, someone wanted her to be an example. This was something like betrayal or maybe seeing or doing something she shouldn't have. A lover wouldn't have cut her face like that."
Finishing the diagram Brady put the board back on the tray and grabbed the sprayer. "But that's for the detectives, they figure out the why. We figure out the how."
Brady started with her hair, face and neck gently washing away dirt, grass, and debris. Washing her legs he looked up at the clock to mark the time he would begin the fun part of seeing the beauty inside. His hand bushed over the side of her thigh and he thought he felt a tremor of muscle. That was impossible. Her last breath was at least eighteen hours ago.
Looking down at the skin he saw goose bumps. A dead girl doesn't get goose bumps from cool water. Brady moved to the other side of her and sprayed down her leg and saw the skin react. Dropping the sprayer he moved to her head and opened an eye to check her pupils. It was fixed but the eye moved from the penlight slightly. "Tim, call for a bus she's alive."
Tim looked up at him. "Alive! You're prankin’ me." When he looked over at Brady covering her up and talking softly Tim picked up the phone and called for help feeling slightly faint.
**
The phone rings on Joan’s desk she puts the report aside and picks it up on the third ring. “Detective Thomas.”
“Thomas, there’s a 10-5 on 19 up at Sellers. You’re working it with Gates. He’s already at the scene.”
Hanging up the phone Joan sighs and heads out to the lake. It’s a small lake on the edge of the Ocala National Forest. On scene she pulls up behind the forensics truck and Gates SUV.
Alex Gates waves her down to the edge of the boat dock. “We’ve got a Jane Doe. The forensics team is combing though the lake and woods looking for her stuff.”
Nodding Joan checked her cell service nothing, this place was like a black hole for technology. “Do you think she was one of the Rainbows? It’s about time for them to start migrating in for winter.”
“I don’t know, in my opinion she looked to well kempt to live like one of those hippies.” He shrugs as he picks up what looks like a button sticking out of the mud on the bank. “There’s a lot of blood but not really much that shows signs of a struggle.”
Joan laughs, as she begins to process with him. “Hippies? I haven’t heard that one in a while. She wasn’t killed here?”
“Could be a dump, of course it had to rain last night and wash away most of our evidence. Coroner said the body had been here all night probably was still breathing when the killer drove off.”
Nodding she stops as a glint catches her eye in the brush. After having one of the CSIs photograph the object she puts on a glove and lifts it out. “I’ve got a shoe. Burberry, unweathered, looks new.”
Gates walks over. “Looks like the one the vic was wearing.”
“Not a Rainbow then.”
He raises an eyebrow. “How you figure?”
“I don’t think even a hippy would run around the woods in a pair of three hundred dollar shoes.”
Before Gates can reply his cell rings. Joan gives him a look. “You’ve got service?”
Winks and grins as he pulls the phone from his belt. “Jealous? Gates…. Yeah, Jane Doe… What?.... We’re on our way.”
Ending the call he looks at his partner. “Well you can ask her for your self. She’s alive.”
Brady rushed to the hospital as soon as he was finished at the coroner’s office. Still in shock over finding her alive. At least she was when the ambulance took her away. The moment he walked into the lobby he spotted the detective assigned to the case.
Joan looked up as the doors swished open and hot air invaded the cold of the hospital. With a sigh she excuses herself from her partner. After a year this was how they were to run into each other. “Brady, was just about to call you."
Brady moved to the side giving her an expectant gaze. "How is she? Do you know who she is?"
The detective shook her head softly with a sigh. "Have no clue as to identity yet. The prints haven't come up on any of the local databases so it's going national. Before you have a coronary of your own, she came though the surgery. From there it's pretty touchy. She's on life support and no sign of waking as of yet."
Pausing she shifted her feet. "What I want to know is how she's still alive at all."
Brady grinned softly, "Shear will to live aided by hypothermia. If she had been left out any longer she would have died of exposure and the blood loss. The cold snap and rain actually helped. Hypothermia slowed the bleeding and gave her just enough to hang on. There were a lot of defensive wounds, she fought pretty hard. I’m guessing she wasn’t going to give up.”
He had seen what Jane Doe looked like when she was brought in. The deep cuts on her arms where she’d tried to block the blows.
Watching that familiar haunted look on his face Joan sighed. Their marriage may have failed but she still cared about him. “You look kind of shaken up still. Are you okay?”
Brady nods softly, his mind held on to the image of the woman trembling on his table. “It’s not every day that you find a live person on your autopsy table. Maybe she'll wake up and at least be able to tell us who she is.”
Shaking her head Joan crosses her arms this was why they were divorced. He didn’t know where his job stopped. Becoming obsessed with a patient’s life, getting involved beyond what he needed to be.
“There is no us, Brady. And Jane Doe isn’t one of your patients. Go home Brady, you did all you could for her. Now it’s time to walk away.”
Brady remembered that look on her face many a night. They would argue, she saying that he should just patch them up and not care what happened afterward. One night he came home to an empty house.
Shaking his head as he steps into the elevator. “You’ve always been better at that then me.”
Joan stood flabbergasted then huffed out to the car to call into the office and let them know the latest status report. Gates looked up from his crossword as she slid into the car. “I take it things didn’t go well?”
Scowling she pulled out her phone. “Shut up Gates.”
Brady checked in with the CCU nurse’s desk before going into her room. The room was quite except for the beeps and hum of the monitors and drips, the soft hiss of the ventilator.
Pulling the chair next to the bed he sat and looked at her. Part Jane Doe's face was covered with bandages. The side you could see was slack and pale like so many of the faces he’s seen the last year.
Why he was here at all Brady didn't know. Joan was right he shouldn’t be here. He has nothing to do with her case now that she’s off his table. What if he had started cutting before he noticed… a shiver coursed his spine. Worse yet what if she was aware, knew where she was. Stuff of nightmares.
No, he shouldn’t be here but something in him needed to be. Gently he held her hand for a moment. "I don't know if you recognize my voice, my name is Brady. They probably haven't talked to you much. Maybe you don't know what's happened. You were attacked and then brought to.... the hospital.”
He’d leave the other off until she was well enough to take it. Right now he had to strengthen her will. "You had some surgery to fix what was damaged. I'll read your reports when they come down and tell you about that later. Right now you need all the rest you can get. Just know you're safe and being cared for. If you don't mind I'm just going to sit here with you for a while."
Leaning back he caressed that small bandaged hand and pulled out his book. He didn't have anything else to do. The room was too quiet as he opened to his last chapter. Brady looked over to her and grinned softly. "Say do you like Lee Child's books? Half the ladies in my office have a crush on the main character."
Getting comfortable Brady began to read to her from the first chapter.
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