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Back The Bone Bed Save as PDF
Chapters (48)
  1. also by patricia cornwell
  2. title page
  3. copyright
  4. dedication
  5. contents
  6. prologue
  7. one
  8. two
  9. three
  10. four
  11. five
  12. six
  13. seven
  14. eight
  15. nine
  16. ten
  17. eleven
  18. twelve
  19. thirteen
  20. fourteen
  21. fifteen
  22. sixteen
  23. seventeen
  24. eighteen
  25. nineteen
  26. twenty
  27. twenty-one
  28. twenty-two
  29. twenty-three
  30. twenty-four
  31. twenty-five
  32. twenty-six
  33. twenty-seven
  34. twenty-eight
  35. twenty-nine
  36. thirty
  37. thirty-one
  38. thirty-two
  39. thirty-three
  40. thirty-four
  41. thirty-five
  42. thirty-six
  43. thirty-seven
  44. thirty-eight
  45. thirty-nine
  46. forty
  47. two nights later
  48. credits

“Let’s take the stairs.” She heads us to a lighted exit sign. “Someone is spying but not by using surveillance devices. I’ve been checking.” She opens the metal door. “Toby’s not sophisticated enough to plant covert devices, certainly not ones that I’d have a hard time finding, but I’ve been looking. And he’s been spying.”

“Why?”

“How do you think Channing Lott’s helicopter ended up filming you while you were getting the body out of the water yesterday?” she asks.

“Toby was the only person who knew what Marino and I were headed out to do,” I remember. “Except for Bryce. Possibly Luke, if Marino said something when they ran into each other in the parking lot.”

We go down the stairs, and our voices seem loud, bouncing off concrete.

“I’m pretty sure I didn’t give details to Luke.” I’m trying to recall exactly what I said.

I was about to walk into the bay and was startled by him suddenly standing so close we were almost touching, and he asked me where I was going. I told him I was on my way to recover a body from the harbor, and he said he’d be happy to help, reminding me he’s a certified diver. I didn’t say the body was a woman’s. I’m pretty sure I didn’t, but I was distracted by him, the way I’ve been distracted for a while, a way I don’t intend to be distracted by him again.

“Toby was aware hours in advance that you were heading to the Coast Guard base,” Lucy states. “He knew he was going to meet you with the van so he could transport the body. A woman’s body entangled with a turtle.”

“And he somehow contacted Channing Lott’s pilots?” That I don’t believe.

“He contacted Jill Donoghue, who contacted the pilots.”

“You know that for a fact?”

“Are you aware he’s applied for a job at her ritzy law firm and that he’s driven company vehicles to her building, to the Prudential Center?” Lucy asks. “Guess he’s forgotten I can look at GPS maps of where everyone goes, and I can look at everybody’s e-mail if they’re dumb enough to use their CFC account for personal communications. I don’t even have to hack.”

“Jesus.”

“Exactly.” She unlocks the door to the lower level.

thirty-one

thirty-one

TOBY IS IN THE CORRIDOR, CARRYING BRIGHT RED BAGS of biohazard trash destined for the autoclave, and I tell Lucy I’ll meet her in ID. He offers right away that he just left the evidence bay, and I know a guilty conscience when I see one.

“I guess you’re aware of what just happened in court,” I say to him, and no one is around to hear us, Ron the security guard behind glass some distance away.