Her gruff manner and the fact she was standing over a dead person made my shoulders tighten.

"Dr. Post, this is Abby Rose. She can possibly ID the victim," Jeff said.

The woman smiled at me. Her teeth were yellowed and her eyes were sharp with interest. She refocused on Jeff. "You found family without having any ID? You have skills I didn't know you possessed, Sergeant."

"She's not family," he answered.

"Oh." The detached, cold expression returned.

"Well then, have a gander. I've cleaned off her face." She waved a hand at the body.

At first I thought the body was covered with fire ant hills, but the smell told me different. They were coffee grounds. Jeez.

I recognized Verna Mae, mostly because of her distinctive gray eyes. They were glassy and wide now, and her chubby face looked like she'd been hammered with a meat mallet. Her broken nose lay against one bruised and swollen cheek, and her bottom lip was split. Blood covered her teeth and chin.

I stepped back. Tried to swallow the hot, sour Diet Coke that rocketed into my mouth.

Jeff grabbed my elbow and pulled me back away from the body. Good thing, because I bent over and vomited everything but my toenails.

He rested a hand on my back as I rid myself of the last ounce of bile, then he put his mouth to my ear and whispered, "You okay?"

I nodded, wiped my lips with the back of my hand.

When I was upright again, Jeff said, "If you're not able to continue, Ms. Rose, we understand." This formal attitude was apparently for the benefit of the doctor, who was again kneeling by the body.

I made myself take another good look, willing my stomach to behave. "That's her. Verna Mae Olsen."

Dr. Post looked over her shoulder at me. From her expression, pukers were obviously a pain in the ass. She dug into the pile of coffee grounds and lifted one of the dead woman's pudgy arms. Wet coffee clung to Verna Mae's skin like dirt. "No rigor or lividity. This corpse is fresher than the grounds they dumped on top of her. Why do you think they did that, Sergeant?"