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persons.”
    The young woman had been found in the dumpster cage in back of Club Red, tucked away in a dimly lit corner. When they found her, she was lying in a pool of blood, large pieces of her skin had been cut away from her body and she’d been almost entirely scalped. Her left eye had been removed and was never found. Unofficially, Charlie thought the killer might have kept it as a trophy.
    “Two days ago, we were able to confirm positive identification using her fingerprints,” Karen continued. “Talika Ross, female, twenty-six years old, one hundred twenty-five pounds, sixty-two inches long. Eye color appears to be brown, based on the eye that is still intact. The body is well-nourished and was in good condition prior to her death.”
    Miss Ross seemed to have lived a very hermitic lifestyle. There was no next of kin, no friends to speak of, and she lived alone. She worked as a traveling nurse, so she hadn’t built any lasting relationships with coworkers.
    Charlie had done a lot of the digging into Talika’s life—or lack thereof—himself. Her apartment had been Spartan, almost sterile; no pictures, no pets, devoid of any kind of personal touch. He’d interviewed some of the coworkers as well. Hell, most of them didn’t even remember her. What kind of person lived a life that was barely on the radar?
    “Yeah, she was apparently adopted from Nairobi when she was just a baby by a young couple by the name of John and Vicky Ross. They were killed in a car accident when she was in her early teens.”
    Karen nodded, flipping through the papers on her clipboard. “She appears to suffer from some sort of hyperpigmentation, giving her a pale complexion inconsistent with her African descent, and she seems to be a natural blonde.
    “No diseases were indicated in the serology or the microscopic evidence that would cause the hyperpigmentation. Could be something genetic—a form of albinism or mosaicism, maybe. Regardless, she was overall a healthy girl.
    “Upon physical examination, the body showed a complete lack of defensive wounds and no trace evidence was found, either on her clothes or her person.”
    “That’s the thing,” Charlie said suddenly, pushing himself off the counter to pace alongside the exam table. “How does he get to them? How is he able to do these things without them fighting back at all? They’ve got to know him somehow—but that’s nearly impossible without at least some of them knowing each other. It’s like six-degrees-of- fucking -Kevin-Bacon here.”
    Karen coolly observed his outburst, brows raised, waiting for him to finish.
    He waved his hands angrily. “Well, go on.”
    “I’m assuming you want me to skip the weights and measurements of all of the organs, and my examination of the brain, as it was all normal.”
    “Please. Tell me about the mutilation.”
    “The dermis has been separated from the skull from the occipital portion all the way to the coronal suture. The scalp and hair were then detached at the coronal suture and removed. It was not found at the scene.
    “Next, her left eye was extracted with what looks to be a dull instrument, then the central retinal artery and the optic nerve were severed with near surgical precision. The eye was completely removed and also not found at the scene.”
    Charlie cursed. He was letting this case get to him, He knew it was a bad idea, but it seemed to be unavoidable. There was a psychopath mutilating women in his city. “Cause of death?”
    “Well, judging from the amount of blood loss, Miss Ross was likely alive when she was disfigured.” Karen took a deep breath and seemed to gather herself. It made Charlie feel slightly better that she wasn’t unaffected. “That being said, I believe the cause of death to be hypovolemia. The mechanism of death, exsanguination.”
    “She bled to death from her injuries,” Charlie supplied.
    “Essentially, yes. Rigor and livor mortis put her time of death on Saturday, the fifth,