Abigail
"Can you identify the body?"
The morgue was cold. The horrid stench of blood filled the air, clogging my nose and throat. A huge lump lodged heavy in my throat as I clamped a hand over my mouth to stop myself from vomiting.
The body on the table was mangled almost beyond recognition. There were several stabs all over the chest, congealed blood, thick and red drying over the wound surfaces.
His right leg was bent at an awkward angle.
"Miss, can you identify- "
"It's him," A sob tore from my throat, my gaze going back to the face of the dead body on the cold morgue table.
Raymond Cole was dead.
When the police had called me barely twenty minutes ago, asking if I knew a certain Mr. Raymond Cole, my gut had squeezed in fear.
Why were the police calling me? Was this another trap? All those thoughts ran through my head, but none of them could come close to what just happened.
