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lady’s face, it destroyed her nose and blew her brains out the back of her head. Because she was dead, the wound didn’t actually bleed. But chunks of flesh, hair, blood clots, and bone pieces spattered behind her on the wall of the pit.
    Josh didn’t get covered with much gunk, but he abandoned gun for blanket, convinced if he wasn’t already in hell he was headed there fast.
    While his mother hoped he would forget the ordeal, a woman with a sketch pad was making him remember the most vivid details.
    “You got the best look at her of anyone, Josh,” Sue Senden said. “While it’s still fresh in your mind, I’d like you to describe her face.”
    Sue was a forensic artist who worked with the police to draw composites of suspects or victims. Her favorite role was helping give the unnamed dead their identities back.
    “Let’s start with the mouth. What can you tell me about her mouth?”
    Josh closed his eyes and the frightening face floated before him. He opened his eyes quickly to make the image go away. He wished his mother didn’t have to wait so far down the hall.
    “It’s okay, Josh. We just need your help. We have to find out who this woman is. What can you tell me about her lips?”
    He shut his eyes again. “They sort of look sucked in.”
    “Excellent.” She held her sketch pad so he couldn’t see her drawing.
    Sue actually had more to work with in this Jane Doe case than usual. Many of her clients were skulls, recovered years after their deaths. She often used clay to reconstruct their faces.
    Before driving down to southern Minnesota to meet Josh, she’d stopped at the Hennepin County morgue to stand over the body in question. Medical examiner Della Sax pulled the corpse from the cooler, leaving the two of them alone. While authorities were able to pull fingerprints from the corpse, so far they’d not had any cold hits from their crime computers. They’d also taken dental X-rays, but that wouldn’t help unless they had a name to match.
    That’s why Sue’s job was so important. Even though her final creation only dealt from the neck on up, and even though many forensic artists settled for photos of the deceased from the crime scene, Sue always insisted, whenever possible, on viewing the entire body.
    Subtle hints gave her perspective about the victim’s habits. In this case, the absence of tattoos, manicure, or pierced ears struck her as unusual for a young woman in this society. A chart on the shelf by the body read that her skin did not appear to have had any makeup—neither foundation, blush, nor mascara.
    “How about her eyes, Josh? Do you see anything special?”
    Josh didn’t like this question. The eyes were the scariest part of this face. He didn’t want to see her eyes ever again. Yet whenever he closed his, hers were watching him.
    “Take your time,” she cautioned.
    Sue had already sketched the outline of the woman’s face from her visit to the morgue. The center of the face was damaged by gunfire and had undergone some decomposition in places, but Sue had the bone structure down. Even chin. And long dark hair. She needed the witness to fill in the missing pieces.
    Josh closed his eyes again. He was back in the pit, face to face with death. He cringed at the memory.
    “You’re not alone, Josh. I’m right here. Without you, she would still be in that dark hole. You helped rescue her. Set her free. But she needs more help. Don’t think about what color her eyes are.” She knew eye color changed after death. “Try to recall how far set back they were, and how they were shaped.”
    “I can’t remember.” She didn’t believe him. Experience told her trauma victims never forget the eyes. But she didn’t push him.
    “How about her nose, Josh? What can you tell me about the shape of her nose?” This was the most critical element of his description because the nose was gone.
    He’d barely shut his eyes when he answered. “Skinny. Her nose was skinny.”
    Sue showed him