Unholy Shepherd by Robert Christian (rooftoppers txt) 📕

She glared at him for a second and then resumed her professional tone. “It would seem that he was dead before the burning, as indicated by the lack of contortion of the body. There appears to be some salvageable lung tissue. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get anything definitive out of it, but I’ll be able to analyze it better back at the county lab, and maybe at least confirm the lack of smoke inhalation. The fire obscured some evidence, but it seems pretty clear to me that the most likely cause of death was severe blood loss.”

“How did you come to that conclusion?” asked Manny.

“The firefighters stated that when they arrived, the burning woodpile had the appearance of a three-foot-high log cabin. They had just tamed down the flames to a manageable height when they noticed the body lying on top of the structure. So at that point, they set to work spreading the coals underneath and trying to preserve as much as they could. They did a decent enough job to where, even though the structure eventually collapsed down on itself, some of the larger pieces nearer to the body stayed relatively whole, if charred.” She looked down at the pile.

“And how, exactly, does that help you conclude that the victim died of blood loss?” Manny questioned.

“Blood doesn’t burn, Detective. Thanks to the firefighters, I can still see that there’s blood all over the wood that was near the body. I also noticed what might be a small cut on the C1. I’ll need to look at it harder under lab conditions, but yes, if you forced me to make a conjecture right now, I’d say the boy’s throat was cut, and cut deeply. Death would have been very quick. The fire was most likely set to burn the evidence. There is one thing I find odd, though.”

“And what might that be, Doctor?”

Rather than answer outright, Dr. Winherst lowered herself back down and directed a finger toward the body’s feet. Manny squatted alongside her and let his eyes follow to where her finger was pointing. It looked like a large mound of burnt gelatin: a sickening pile of black, red, and purple mush.

“What am I looking at, Doctor?” Manny asked.

“Unless I’m mistaken, that’s a burnt pile made up of the boy’s entrails; stomach, liver, intestines, that sort of thing.”

“And what’s so strange about that?”

“The position,” she retorted stiffly. “The woodpile collapsed, but slowly, according to the firefighters, and the body stayed in the same relative position that it is now. So if the body was laying on its right side, whatever entrails were left unconsumed by the fire should have spilled out down here.” She pointed to the ground in front of the skeleton’s torso. “There’s no logical reason they should be down by the feet and behind the body.”

“What about an illogical reason?” Manny mumbled under his breath. He didn’t mean for anyone to hear, but Dr. Winherst’s head snapped around toward him.

“What was that?” she said, less than kindly.

“Well, if there isn’t a natural, physical reason that those organs should be there, would it make sense to say that someone removed them and intentionally put them there?”

“I suppose that could be one explanation. I’m pretty much wrapped up here. I’ll be in touch with my report within the next twenty-four hours or so.” She stood, stripped the glove off her right hand and offered it to Manny to shake. There was no discernible emotion in her eyes.

Manny nodded and grasped her hand. He turned away from the ash pile and looked toward the back of the yard. Along the fence line there was another firewood pile with row upon row of stacked logs. The pile was very neat and even, except for right at the end, under the branches of a lone tree at the fence’s corner. Here, the wood had clearly been disturbed, and pieces had been hauled away, creating a stair effect that stood in stark contrast to the rest of the pile’s neat symmetry. Manny paced the length of the stacked wood slowly. It was all the same wood, and he was certain that it would match the kind used to burn the body. The only question is, did whoever did this know the wood would be here, or did they just get lucky?

As he stood thinking about this, he noticed a yellowish stain in the grass not two feet from him. He bent down for a closer look. It was evident by the patterns in the grass that whatever had been there had been raked up by hand, most likely the previous night. Manny bent down further and put his nose to the ground. The odor that he detected was faint, but what was there was sour smelling.

“Hey, Doc,” he called before deciding against the informal. “Dr. Winherst, would you come over here for a second?”

Within moments, she came up behind him, and he indicated that she should squat down as he was.

“I don’t seem to see any evidence markers over here,” he said, feeling more confident now that he was certain he had found something she’d missed. The potential shift in the balance of power felt good, but he reminded himself to stay professional. He pointed to the pale yellow residue. “Does that look like vomit that someone maybe tried to clean up to you?”

The Doctor’s dark brown eyes widened, and her face flashed with anger and frustration. “Emmsley, get over here!” she yelled over her shoulder toward the house. Within seconds, a thin, young man with sandy brown hair and glasses ran up to them. He had the expression of a student being called into the principal’s office.

“Derrick Emmsley, my assistant,” she said to Manny, gesturing at the boy. “Derrick, you were supposed to make a thorough sweep of the entire yard while I was examining the body. How is it that Detective Benitez here found that?” Her