Over Her Head Read Online Free

she was discovered.”
    “Maybe she fell or jumped off the bridge.”
    “Now
that
I should be able to tell you pretty shortly. But in my experience, jumpers take off their coats before they go in. Heaven
     knows why.”
    “Any ideas about time of death?”
    “Uh, last night?”
    “Very funny.”
    “Nick, you know this isn’t
CSI
. We can’t pinpoint it to the hour. Not to mention that the temperature of the water makes my thermometer readings meaningless.”
    “Ballpark?”
    Lisa sighed. “Ballpark—last night. No earlier.” She hovered over the girl’s head and touched her cheek, this time to indicate
     the injuries rather than mourn. “Bruising here, too, consistent with a blow. A slap, maybe. Uh-oh.” Her fingers, gloved in
     thin latex, moved through the girl’s hair. “This is nasty. Skull fracture. A deep one. I’ll know more when I examine her brain.”
    Nick glanced at the bucket, then away.
    He hung on to his cool as Lisa completed the external exam and moved on to the part with the rose loppers. “This is interesting.”
     After thirty minutes of careful work, Lisa’s white overalls were covered in stains. “Water in the lungs. Means she was breathing
     when she went in. We have a couple of ounces here. I’ll tell you in a couple of minutes whether the skull fracture happened
     before, after, or during.”
    Nick concentrated on the bucket for the next few minutes, until Lisa spoke again.
    “You okay, Deputy?”
    He nodded.
    “You sure? ’Cause I can give you all the details in my report.”
    “Thanks, but I need the preliminary findings today. We had a report of a disturbance on the Susquanny Bridge last night, and
     I think it might have been connected to our girl here.”
    “Is Forrest on it?”
    “As we speak.” In their county, the coroner’s investigators processed the crime scene, not the cops. They had specialized
     training—and an eye for minuscule detail that often meant the difference between securing or losing a conviction. “Depending
     on what he finds up there, we might have a homicide on our hands, not just an accident.”
    “Well, from the look of the marks on her face, and what seems to be finger-shaped bruising on her chest, I’d say the chances
     are pretty good.”
    Nick winced as the whine of the Stryker saw drowned out her voice. Lisa made a series of notes, then glanced at him again.
     “Water in the cranial cavity, too. So the blow to the head happened before she went in. And it’s a funny shape.”
    “Yeah?” He risked a look.
    She opened her thumb and forefinger into an L, then pointed. “See this? A right angle. Blunt trauma, like from the corner
     of a brick, only bigger.”
    He thought for a second. “Have you ever been up on that bridge? Maybe when you were a kid and wanted to try diving in?”
    She gave him the kind of look big sisters have given clueless little brothers for millennia, and shook her head. “Do I look
     like I have a death wish? Besides, I didn’t grow up here. My folks moved out to the San Joaquin Valley in California when
     they left Vietnam. Not a lot of bridges you’d want to jump off out there.”
    “It’s like a rite of passage around here. Anyway, what I was getting at is that the undercarriage of the bridge is made of
     these big wood beams.” He made a square in the air with his hands. “Twelve by twelve at least. Would this”—he indicated the
     angle-shaped depression—“be consistent with one of those beams?”
    Lisa nodded. “I’d say yes. Look at this.” She indicated a discolored area on the brain where the dura mater had been pierced
     and shredded. “Subdural hematoma. Lots of blood. Whatever hit her, it rendered her unconscious immediately. I’d say Forrest
     ought to know soon, if he hasn’t examined the area already.”
    “I’ll drive out there myself as soon as we’re done.”
    “For your purposes, we are.” Lisa pulled her mask down over her chin, so that it hung around her neck. “My