Chapter 7
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“That’s him.”
Emma stared at Todd Branson’s face. She’d seen pictures of dead bodies in the true crime shows she sometimes watched, and they’d never fased her. But this...this was so, so different.
Now I see why Coop didn’t want me coming here.
“You’re sure it’s him?” Detective West asked from where he stood a few feet to her right.
Though she was certain, Emma still looked one final time.
His short, brown hair was still wet from the river where he’d been found. It was slicked back, and his eyes were closed, making him look even younger than before. But it was definitely him.
Todd Branson.
Such an ordinary name when one of his last acts on this earth was anything but.
The thing that stood out to her most was how much paler he was than when she last saw him. And how, because of this, the dragon tattoo on his neck stood out even more.
Of course, his blood was no longer flowing through his cold veins, so that made perfect sense.
Geez, Ems. Make this even more macabre than it already is, why don’t you?
Speaking of veins...
Emma’s eyes fell to the marks on the inside of the deceased right arm. Several needle marks—some fresh, some already healed—littered the paper-thin skin there. And just above his elbow’s crease was a reddish-brown bruise that encircled his entire arm.
“That’s from the elastic tourniquet he used while administering the drugs into his system,” Dr. Maggie Cartwright—the forensic pathologist in charge of Dallas’s medical examiner office—explained.
The woman was petite with dark brown, curly hair that fell just below her shoulders. She was very pretty with a kind smile and looked nothing like what Emma had expected.
There was also a wealth of knowledge hidden behind the woman’s round, brown eyes, and Emma couldn’t help but wonder how someone so lovely and sweet could surround herself with such darkness and death.
“You said they found the needle still in his arm?” Emma asked.
Dr. Cartwright nodded. “Yes. Unfortunately, that’s not uncommon in overdoses like these.”
“Do you think the overdose was intentional?” Trace spoke up from his place beside her.”
“It’s possible, but I can’t speculate on that yet, Mr. Winters. I’ll know more once I’ve had a chance to do a full examination. I can tell you the estimated time of death is roughly fifteen to twenty hours ago.”
He died right after the bombing?
“That doesn’t make any sense.” Emma shook her head. “Why would he try to kill Jake and then immediately turn around and commit suicide?”
“Again, I haven’t said this man’s death was intentional or self-inflicted,” Dr. Cartwright clarified. “At this point, I can only confirm time of death.”
“Don’t worry, Mags.” The detective offered the doctor a friendly smile. “No one’s jumping to conclusions. That being said...” He turned to Emma. “If it turns out he did off himself, I think I know why.”
“Why?”
“Guilt.” He pulled out his phone and showed them several pictures. “My partner sent these to me right before you got here. They were taken at Todd Branson’s apartment.”
Emma sucked in a breath as she stared at the pictures. One by one, Detective West scrolled through each horrifying image of the evidence that Branson was, in fact, their guy.