BooksBarbecue
Back You Can Hide Save as PDF
Chapters (45)
  1. Also by
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright Page
  4. Dedication
  5. Acknowledgments
  6. Prologue
  7. Chapter One
  8. Chapter Two
  9. Chapter Three
  10. Chapter Four
  11. Chapter Five
  12. Chapter Six
  13. Chapter Seven
  14. Chapter Eight
  15. Chapter Nine
  16. Chapter Ten
  17. Chapter Eleven
  18. Chapter Twelve
  19. Chapter Thirteen
  20. Chapter Fourteen
  21. Chapter Fifteen
  22. Chapter Sixteen
  23. Chapter Seventeen
  24. Chapter Eighteen
  25. Chapter Nineteen
  26. Chapter Twenty
  27. Chapter Twenty-One
  28. Chapter Twenty-Two
  29. Chapter Twenty-Three
  30. Chapter Twenty-Four
  31. Chapter Twenty-Five
  32. Chapter Twenty-Six
  33. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  34. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  35. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  36. Chapter Thirty
  37. Chapter Thirty-One
  38. Chapter Thirty-Two
  39. Chapter Thirty-Three
  40. Chapter Thirty-Four
  41. Chapter Thirty-Five
  42. Chapter Thirty-Six
  43. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  44. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  45. Teaser

She laughed. “How about we create our own definition of friendship that doesn’t involve you having to leave your cabin and dog?” It was surprising how badly she wanted to be his friend. She’d talk it over with her mother later, although Deidre was wary of Huck Rivers. But Deidre would understand Huck’s need to spend a lot of time alone.

He turned down a busy street and parked in front of the ME’s office, which was attached to the county hospital. “All right, Laurel Snow. I guess we’re friends.” He smiled. “You’re not going to pressure me for more, are you?” His smile seemed teasing.

“For more of what?” She frowned.

He barked out a laugh. “Forget it. Friends it is, then.”

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Dr. Ortega met them in his office, which had been decorated with a precision that must have involved many levels and rulers. Framed diplomas and other certificates, all with exactly the same black wooden frame and cream-colored matte were hung precisely behind his desk. Twin inlaid bookshelves bracketed the wall and held photographs, signed baseballs in protective glass containers, and bowling trophies on shelves. There were three items on each shelf, and their height and width balanced the opposing shelf exactly.

“Take a seat,” Dr. Ortega said from behind his desk, which held three piles of salmon-colored file folders, a monitor, and a keyboard. Today the doctor wore a black shirt and slacks beneath his unbuttoned white lab coat.

Laurel and Huck sat in the brown leather seats that matched the one in which the doctor sat, except the back of his was taller.

“Thank you for coming in person,” the doctor said, reaching for the top case file.

“No problem,” Huck said, unzipping his Fish and Wildlife parka.

Dr. Ortega smiled at Laurel. His hair was black with gray heavy at his temples and above his ears. He had to be in his early sixties, and his brown eyes were intelligent and slightly bloodshot. “Sorry to pull you out on such a cold day.”

“I’m sorry you had to work through the night,” Laurel said. “What did you discover with the autopsy?”

He flipped open the file folder. “Your victim had breast implants, so I was able to trace the serial numbers and get you an ID.” He removed a photograph and pushed it across the desk. “Printed this off the Internet. Her name was Charlene Rox. She was a thirty-eight-year-old psychiatrist with a practice outside of Seattle.”

Laurel studied the photograph. Charlene had symmetrical bone structure, short black hair, dark eyes, and full lips. In the picture, she wore a red blazer, black shell, and a thick silver necklace. Her earrings were silver and dangled a little, exhibiting a bit of whimsy. “She was a doctor?”

“Yes,” Dr. Ortega said.

Like Abigail. There was one tie between them already. “What did you determine to be the cause of death, Dr. Ortega?” Laurel asked.