Raymond Cole's body had been claimed by the county three days after I examined it. He had no family, no next of kin, no one to bury him. He had been cremated and his ashes scattered in a common grave. But I had kept his tissues. I had kept his blood samples. I had kept everything, because something about the case had bothered me from the moment I saw him.
I went back to the morgue that night, after Daniel had promised to disappear again, after I had made him swear he would not contact me until I was ready. I did not trust him. But I believed him. There was a difference.
The samples were in a locked refrigerator in the back of the lab. I pulled them out and set them on the counter. Then I began the work I had been trained to do.
Raymond Cole had died of exposure, but that was not the who
