"I'll get it from two," Ellen said, then left the room.

Sara turned back to the young woman on the bed. There did not seem to be any bruises or cuts on her body other than the marks on her hands and feet. Her skin was warm to the touch, which could point to any number of things. Sara did not want to jump to conclusions, but already the similarities between Sibyl Adams and the woman in front of her were going through her mind. They were both petite women. They both had dark brown hair.

Sara checked the woman's pupils. "Dilated," she said, because the last time she'd done something like this, the rule had been to call out your findings. She exhaled slowly, noticing for the first time that Hare and Lena were in the room.

"What's her name?" Sara asked.

"Julia Matthews," Lena provided. "We were looking for her at the school. She's been missing for a couple of days."

Hare glanced at the monitor. "Pulse ox is falling."

Sara checked the ventilator. "FiO2 is thirty percent. Bump it up a little."

"What's that smell?" Lena interrupted.

Sara sniffed the woman's body. "Clorox?" she asked.

Lena caught another whiff. "Bleach," she confirmed.

Hare nodded as well.

Sara examined the woman's skin carefully. There were lines of superficial scrapes all along the body. Sara noticed for the first time that the woman's pubic hair had been shaved off. From the lack of growth, Sara guessed she had been shaved in the last day or so.

Sara said, "She's been scrubbed clean."

She smelled the woman's mouth but did not pick up the strong scent that usually comes from ingesting bleach. Sara had seen some rawness in the back of the throat when she'd tubed the woman, but nothing out of the ordinary. Obviously the woman had been given a drug similar to if not actually belladonna. Her skin was so hot to the touch that Sara could feel it through her gloves.

Ellen entered the room. Sara watched the nurse as she opened the central line kit on one of the trays. Ellens hands didn't seem as steady as they usually did. This scared Sara more than anything else.

Sara held her breath as she jabbed the three-inch needle into the woman's jugular. The needle, called an introducer, would act as a funnel for three separate IV ports. When they found out what kind of drug the woman had been given, Sara would use one of the extra ports to help counteract the effects.

Ellen stood back from the patient, waiting for Sara's orders.

Sara rattled off the tests as she flushed the ports with heparin solution to keep them from clotting. "Blood gases, tox screen, LFT, CBC, chem twenty-seven. Go ahead and pull for a coag panel while you're at it." Sara paused. "Dip her urine stat. I want to know what's going on before I do anything else. Something's keeping her knocked out. I think I know what it is, but I need to be sure before we start treatment."

"All right," Ellen answered.

Sara checked for positive blood return, then flushed the lines again. "Normal saline, wide open."

Ellen did as she was told, adjusting the IV.

"Do you have a portable X ray? I'll need to make sure I did this right," Sara said, indicating the internal jugular line. "Plus I need a chest, a flat of the abdomen, and a look at her shoulder."

Ellen said, "I'll get it from down the hall after I draw the blood work."

"Also, check for GHB, roofies." Sara spoke as she secured the dressing around the needle. "We'll need to do a rape kit."

"Rape?" Lena questioned, stepping forward.

"Yes," Sara answered, her tone sharp. "Why else would someone do this to her?"

Lena's mouth worked, but no answer came. She had obviously kept this case separate from her sisters up until that point. Lena's eyes locked on to the young woman, and she stood at the foot of the bed, her body ramrod straight. Sara was reminded of the night Lena had come to the morgue to see Sibyl Adams. The young detective's mouth was set in that same angry line.

"She seems stable," Ellen offered, more to herself than anyone else.

Sara watched as the nurse used a small syringe to draw blood from the radial artery. Sara rubbed her own wrist, knowing how painful the procedure could be. She leaned against the bed, her hands on Julia Matthews's arm, trying to somehow convey that she was safe now.

Hare brought her back with a gentle "Sara?"

"Hm?" Sara was startled. They were all looking at her. She turned to Lena. "Can you help Ellen with the portable?" she asked, trying to use a firm voice.

"Yeah," Lena returned, giving Sara an odd look.

Ellen filled the last syringe. "It's down the hall," she told Lena.

Sara heard them leave, but she kept her eyes on Julia Matthews. Sara's vision tunneled, and for the second time she felt herself on the gurney, saw a doctor leaning over her, taking her pulse, checking her vitals.

"Sara?" Hare was looking at the woman's hands, and Sara was reminded of the marks she had first seen in the parking lot.

Both palms were punctured through the center. Sara glanced down at the woman's feet, noting that they, too, had been punctured in the same way. She bent to examine the wounds, which were clotting rapidly. Specks of rust added color to the dried black blood.

"The palm has been pierced through," Sara offered. She looked under the woman's fingernails, recognizing thin slivers of wood pressed under the nails. "Wood," she reported, wondering why someone would take the time to scrub the victim down with bleach in order to remove physical traces, yet leave slivers of wood under the nails. It did not make sense. And then to leave her arranged on the car in such a way.

Sara worked all of this out in her head, and her stomach responded to the obvious conclusion with a slight pitch. She closed her eyes, picturing the woman as she had been when Sara first found her: legs crossed at the ankles, arms at ninety-degree angles from the body.

The woman had been crucified.

"Those are puncture wounds, right?" Hare said.

Sara nodded, not taking her eyes off the woman. Her body was well nourished and her skin had been taken care of. There were no needle marks to indicate prolonged drug use. Sara stopped in her tracks, realizing she'd assessed the woman as if she was at the morgue rather than the hospital. As if sensing this, the heart monitor went into failure, the shrill scream of the machine putting Sara on alert.

"No," Sara hissed as she leaned over the woman, starting compressions. "Hare, bag her."

He fumbled around in the drawers for the bag. Within seconds, he was squeezing air into the woman's lungs. "She's in V-tach," he warned.

"Slow," Sara said, wincing as she felt one of the patient's ribs crack under her hands. She kept her eyes on Hare, willing him to cooperate. "One, two, squeeze. Quick and hard. Keep it calm."

"Okay, okay," Hare mumbled, concentrating on squeezing the bag.

Despite the great press given CPR, it was merely a stopgap measure. CPR was the act of physically forcing the heart to circulate blood into the brain, and very rarely could this be done manually as efficiently as a healthy heart performing the task on its own. If Sara stopped, so would the heart. It was a time-buying procedure until something else could be done.

Lena, obviously alerted by the shrieking monitor, ran back into the room. "What happened?"

"She crashed," Sara said, feeling a slight sense of relief as she spotted Ellen in the hallway. "Amp of Epi," she ordered.

Sara watched impatiently as Ellen popped open a box of Epi and put the syringe together.

"Jeesh." Lena cringed as Sara administered the drug straight into the woman's heart.

Hare's voice rose a few octaves. "She's in V-fib."

With one hand Ellen took the paddles off the cart behind her, charging the defibrillator with the other.

"Two hundred," Sara ordered. The woman's body jumped into the air as Sara electrocuted her. Sara watched the monitor, frowning when there was no corresponding reaction. Sara shocked her two more times with the same response. "Lidocaine," she ordered just as Ellen popped another box.