Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [568]
Maggie had only recently seen pieces of the case files on the other two heads. This was her first invitation to the crime scene, now that Racine and Chief Henderson suspected they might have a serial killer on their hands.
“Why lucky?” Maggie finally asked when it became obvious that’s what Racine was waiting for. Some things never changed, like Racine demanding everyone’s attention before she announced her brilliant theories.
“Getting that tip allowed us to get here before the critters finished their snack. The other two were down to the bone. We still haven’t been able to identify them.”
Maggie swiped her shoes against the grass one last time and came closer. Then the smell hit her like a blast of hot air. The mixture of scents that accompanied death was difficult for Maggie to describe, always the same and yet always different, depending on the surroundings. There was the faint metallic smell of blood, but this time overpowered by that of rotting flesh and the muck of river mud. She hesitated, but only for a second or two, focusing instead on the grisly scene less than three feet in front of her.
From above on the embankment she had thought there was a tangle of algae and muddy grass holding the head in place. Now she could see it was actually the victim’s long hair, twisted and wrapped around the back of the head, allowing the face to stare up at the clear blue sky. A little closer still, and Maggie could see that stare was not the correct word. The eyelids seemed to flutter as dozens of milky-white maggots pushed and shoved their way into the eye sockets. Even the victim’s lips appeared to be moving as if allowing one last whisper, but it was rather the slow-moving masses of maggots. They were pouring from the woman’s nostrils too, unrelenting, determined and focused on their task of devouring their prize from the inside out.
Maggie waved at the lingering blowflies and squatted opposite the crime lab tech to get an almost eye-level view. Beyond the buzzing flies, this close she could hear the squishing sound as the maggots pushed and shoved at each other to squeeze inside the various orifices. There was a sort of sucking sound, too.
God, she hated maggots.
During her early days as an FBI newbie when she had no fear and much to prove, at the request—or rather the dare—of a medical examiner, she had put her hand into a corpse’s maggot-filled mouth to retrieve the victim’s driver’s license. It had been the killer’s trademark and not an unusual one, allowing his victims their identities even though he stuffed them down their throats. Ever since then it was still difficult for her, whenever she saw maggots up close and personal, to not feel that sticky trail of slime they had left all over her hands and up her arms as they quickly grasped at self-preservation and began sucking at her own flesh.
But now, sitting back on muddy heels, she knew what Racine meant about getting lucky this time. Despite all the movement, Maggie could see clumps of yellow-white eggs stuffed in the victim’s ears and at the corners of her lips and eyes. Not all of the maggots had hatched yet and those that had were in their first stage, which meant the head couldn’t have been here more than a day or two.
In the July heat, Maggie knew the process moved quickly. As disgusted by them as she was, she had learned to also have a healthy respect. She knew adult blowflies could sense blood from up to three miles away. They would have arrived in a matter of hours of death. As disgusting as flies on a corpse look, the flies eat very little. They’re more interested in laying their eggs in the dark, moist areas of the corpse, reducing what was once a warm, living, breathing human being to a warm, moist host.
The eggs hatch within a day or two and immediately the baby maggots start to devour everything down to the bone. While working a case in Connecticut, Professor Adam Bonzado had told her that three flies could lay enough eggs and produce enough maggots to devour a body as quickly as a full-grown