“Okay, if you two kids are all set,” Avery said, “I’ll be off to play in Austin. Jordan, call me when you’re ready to be picked up.”

“Will do, Avery,” Jordan said. “And thanks.”

“Aim to please.”

As Avery’s footsteps grew more distant, Jordan shifted her gaze toward Spencer’s face. “If you can offer me your arm, I’ll take it.”

“Ready and waiting.”

She laid her hand on his arm. All muscle. “Lead the way.”

“Glad to.”

The elevator doors dinged open as they approached, and he mentioned the small gap between the elevator and the first floor. She stepped over the threshold, sensing one, maybe two more people in the car. The space felt crowded, and not knowing who else was with them had her taking a step toward Spencer. He did not speak, but again his quiet energy was a rock she anchored to.

The doors opened, two people stepped off, and then the doors closed again.

“Two more floors,” Spencer said.

“Thanks.” She’d hoped her compromised sight would have abated some of the unease she felt when she was in an elevator, but the darkness tightened the already confined space. The doors opened, and Spencer’s arm moved close to hers, signaling she could take it. She did, knowing navigating once-familiar halls without sight cues was going to be a challenge.

“Still smells the same,” she said. “No amount of air freshener can quite hide the antiseptic scent.”

“I remember the day I got used to the smell of decomposition,” he said carefully. “I was working a case outside of Houston. Responded to a tractor trailer loaded with a dozen undocumented women. Six were dead and the others barely holding on. I worked the site for nearly twelve hours and didn’t think twice about the odors. It wasn’t until I got back to the office. My coworkers chased me out of the building and told me not to return until I’d cleaned up. Hell, how could I not notice?”

“When I first started patrol, there were many nights I couldn’t sleep. I was just too amped up replaying the day and what went down. But over time, I couldn’t box up all the memories, but I came pretty damn close. We develop calluses.”

And those calluses made everyday relations harder.

Spencer paused to open a door, and she guessed they had arrived at the changing room beside the autopsy suite.

“Lockers to the right,” he said.

Turning, she sensed the proximity of the wall. Moving slowly, her cane in front, she halted when the tip touched metal. Experience reminded her that the clean scrubs were to her right, so she trailed her fingers along the lockers until she touched the plastic-wrapped gowns. She carefully unpacked one, slid it on, and fastened the ties around her waist. Spencer handed her gloves.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Dr. McIntyre is waiting for us.”

“Right.”