The Truth Seeker (9 page)

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Authors: Dee Henderson

Tags: #Romance Suspense

BOOK: The Truth Seeker
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Lisa nodded. Diane was good.

“We’ve changed the locks on the room; you’ll hold the only key.”

“Thanks.” It would save her having to move the files and evidence she She moved the desktop air filter closer. She had chosen one case at Pushing away the sense of fatigue, she spread out the dozens of

packrat who knew where everything could be found; Lisa was more one to pile and make it fit. “I could use a good assistant to help get these case files entered in the NIJ database.”

was working on to a vault every night. “Get the log and let’s review the inventory here. I’ll sign off and take over chain of evidence responsibility.”

Janelle Nellis, dead at age forty-two, found murdered in her garage.

The case was fourteen years old. Lisa held the X-ray film up to the sunlight coming in the windows. Shot in the back from close range, one bullet hitting her left lung, the other nicking her heart. The ballistics report said it had been a ..

Lisa sneezed and gasped as pain tore through her chest. It eased slowly and she took a cautious breath, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

random to look through while she waited for Kate to arrive. After barely half a day, she was exhausted and ready to go home. She had badly misjudged how much energy she would have.

crime scene photos on the table. The struggle that had occurred was obvious—part of a storage shelf in the garage had been pulled away from the wall, cardboard boxes were crushed. Janelle had tried to get away from whoever had shot her.

Her body had been found at A.M. by a neighbor. She had last been seen alive at P.M. the evening before leaving work at a deli shop eight blocks from her house.

 

“Okay, Janelle. What can you tell me?” Lisa started reading the autopsy report. It was an old College of American Pathologists format, and she had to flip through the report and the attached documents to tug out information that on current forms had their own designations.

It was strange to realize just how little toxicology had been available fourteen years ago, and the radiograms she had in the medical examiner’s packet were faint and minimal in number. Even in a murder case film had been deemed too expensive to do more than the basic X-rays.

Establishing time of death would be the key to solving a murder case like this and it was annoyingly broad in the autopsy report.

Sometime between P.M. and A.M.

She frowned at that finding. A death discovered less than twentyfour hours old in an open garage on a summer night: state-of-the-art technology today could pin down time of death to within two hours using entomology evidence, temperature of the body, a careful exam of rigor formation. She read the autopsy report with care, looking for clues she could tease out of the narrative. If the doctor had made detailed notes he may have given her the evidence she needed, not realizing how significant an observation would be years later.

This wouldn’t be such a bad assignment if she had chosen it for herself. This lady deserved justice. The more she read, the more interesting the case became. The bullet slugs had been recovered; she had an old evidence tag number. If she were lucky she might still be able to find them in the ballistics vault.

“So this is where you are hiding.”

Quinn startled her.

“Welcome to my new office,” she replied dryly, closing the file. She had a comfortable chair. She was waffling on her opinion of the rest of the assignment. “You’re my ride home?”

“Yes.”

Lisa saw Kate’s handiwork. “I should have guessed.” She gathered up the case photos and autopsy report, then returned everything to the

“Do you need to get anything from your office?”

“No. I’m ready to go.”

 

evidence box. “Could you put this box back on the shelves with the others?”

“Sure.”

He looked curious as to what she was doing in here but didn’t ask.

Lisa got to her feet, leaning heavily on the cane until she could straighten.

She locked the doors to the room and pocketed the key. They went down to the lobby and she signed out while Quinn returned his guest ID. He held the outer door open for her.

“So how was the first day back?” he asked as they stepped into the hot afternoon sun. The only relief was the hope of rain; the sky to the west had the heavy dark look of potential thunderstorms.

“An experience.” Lisa grasped the handrail, determined to walk down the stairs rather than use the ramp.

“Plan to tell me about it?”

She reached the bottom of the stairs, and they began the slow walk to the parking lot. Quinn’s stride was so checked he was barely moving so as not to outdistance her. “I’m stuck in the dust bowl of history.

They’ve got me reviewing cold cases for at least the next month.” He indicated his car and opened the passenger door for her. She lowered herself carefully inside. “Thanks.”

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, relaxing into the warmth of the seat. It felt wonderful against her aching back. “This was not the day I envisioned when I left for work this morning.”

He pulled into traffic and broke the silence several minutes later.

“You going to kick this depression?”

She opened one eye to confirm that smile she heard. He was gorgeous when he smiled. She closed her eyes again. “Eventually. Just let me enjoy the bad mood for a while.”

His chuckle warmed her heart. She needed someone who would

accept with lightness what could at times be for her a slow transition away from work.

“Could I interest you in an early dinner?”

She was tempted but accepted reality. “Not today. Just home. I want a nap.”

“Another time then.”

She forced herself to stir. She’d be asleep if she left her eyes closed for long. “When are you heading back to Montana?”

“You don’t want me to stick around?”

It had just been a question, but he had made it something more.

Quinn was joking, he had to be, but she wasn’t sure. “Quinn—”

“Relax. My flight is Sunday.”

She grimaced; she was stumbling over her words again. “You’ve got a beautiful home, your ranch.” She had enjoyed her one visit to his ranch even though it had been under stressful circumstances. That expanse of land gave Quinn roots, something she could admit privately that she envied. He could afford to leave the ranch for his job because he always had it there to return to.

“It’s beautiful no matter what the season. Anytime you want to sell that Sinclair, let me know. I’ve got just the place for it.”

It wasn’t often she heard envy in his voice. “I picked it up by chance over lunch one day,” she said with a slight smile and a small shrug.

“By chance.”

“I liked it.”

“Remind me to tag along when you windowshop someday.”

Early dinner, stick around, tag along someday

He was definitely asking for something that she was hesitant to consider. He’d turn the force of his per acclity in her direction and she’d end up caring, try to please him, then manage to fail miserably at it.

“What else do you splurge on besides art? And travel? I noticed some interesting reading on your coffee table. Zimbabwe is next?”

 

“Tell me about this new assignment.”

Work—she could handle that topic. “Ben wants me to review the

“Only if the college anthropology team goes for a dig next year.

Otherwise I’m planning to stay stateside for a while.”

“Got anything planned?”

“Some serious backpack trekking. Fossil hunting. Caves.

Everything I won’t be doing for a while. I had tentative plans to go rock climbing next month.”

“They’re only postponed.”

Postponed for months. Somehow she didn’t think her back was going to tolerate hefting sixty pounds of tent and gear while she walked for ten days and fifty miles anytime soon.

The air conditioner ruffled her hair, sending tendrils across her face. She used both hands to push it back. She shouldn’t have cut it so short; at least when it had been long she’d been able to secure it in a ponytail. Quinn adjusted the vents upward.

old murder cases to see what new forensic tests can do with the evidence.

He’s using it as a way to get funding to combine the archive files.

I know it needs to be done, but

” She was whining. She shut up.

“You were hoping to get back into the field.”

“Crazy, I know, but yes, I was.” She bit her lip and looked at him, wondering if he would understand. “I need to. Does that make sense?”

“Sure it does. So does waiting a few weeks. Your job will still be there; it’s not going to disappear while you take some time and heal.”

He grinned at her. “It takes longer than that to train your replacement.

Consider the assignment the compliment it is. Take what they are expecting and give them back something better.”

“This is your version of a pep talk?”

“Yeah.”

“You need to work on it some more.”

He burst out laughing.

Seven

Lisa loved her house, but it was testing her patience tonight. She walked on carpet squishing with water out through the back door, carrying her cellular phone. “Jack, when are you getting off duty?” She’d caught him at the fire station, relieved to find he hadn’t been out on a call. She circled to the back of her house, looking at the gutters.

“Eight. Need something?”

“My gutters must be clogged. That brief rainstorm was wonderful, but it had me finding towels. My swamp is back, and this time it came in under the back door.”

“Your swamp monster returns? You mean it didn’t just unlock the door and wander through the house? Face it, you’ve got a living thing in your yard. It never dies.”

“Jack.” Next she was going to hear about those stupid monsters from the swamp movies he loved.

He relented and turned serious. “I’ll swing by and take a look.”

“I appreciate it.” She’d called him because no matter how badly she disrupted his schedule, she knew he would say yes.

She walked around to the garage to see what would have to be moved in order to get the ladder out. Jack would have to do it. She did carry in the box floor fan to help dry out the carpet.

 

At least the water had turned only about a foot and a half of carpet She’d have to ask Jack if he thought the carpet should be pulled She was going to have to get a load of dirt dumped to raise that Surprisingly hungry, Lisa wandered into the kitchen, wishing she

into a soggy mess before she’d realized the problem and stopped the flood. An evening of moving air should go a long way to drying the carpet out, although in this heat the pad underneath might mold in even that short time.

up. The idea of handing him pliers to pull up the tackstrip for the carpet made her wince. On second thought, maybe she wouldn’t ask. She carried the wet towels through to the laundry room and started another load.

The three-hour nap she had taken when she got home had been wonderful; she had awoken to the sounds of thunder and rain. She’d enjoyed listening to the rain until she got up and walked down the hall.

portion of the yard so water would flow away from, not back to the house. The downspouts were set to direct the water from the roof well out into the yard, but when they clogged, she had trouble.

had gone grocery shopping. She settled for pulling out a box of Velveeta cheese, cutting off the end that had dried to toss into the trash.

She made herself a toasted cheese sandwich.

She was finishing the sandwich, feeding the crusts to Sidney, when the doorbell rang. She dumped the paper plate, returned Sidney to his cage, and went to meet Jack.

He wore a blue T-shirt with a small white fire department emblem stitched above the pocket. It was the same shirt some enterprising kid at the last fire department open house had decorated with fabric paints, adding a red fire engine that looked like it had a flat tire. Jack loved the shirt. It was now too small for him; it had shrunk when washed in hot water, and the paint had begun to crack and flake off. But getting Jack to let the shirt die was impossible.

“What’s this?” Lisa accepted the drink he handed her.

 

“A slushy. Grape. It seemed to fit.”

“Jack—you had to?” His sense of humor was impossible to tame.

He tore open the wrapper on a stick of beef jerky. “I had to.” He waved his dinner at her. “Show me the damage. Your brother is here to save the day.”

“You’ll try,” Lisa agreed. “Whether you succeed—” She got an icecream headache drinking the Kool-Aid in crushed ice. “Come with me.”

Jack followed her into the house. “Where’s Sidney?”

“You can play with him later.”

“Lizzy.”

“Later.”

“I brought him a new toy.”

“Does it make noise?” Lizzy said.

“Of course.”

“They do make quiet ones, you know.”

“They also make earplugs.” Jack bumped into her when she abruptly stopped. “What a mess.”

“Tell me about it.”

He gingerly walked across the wet carpet to open the back door and look at the source of the problem. “If it rains any more, you’ll have a river coming in.”

“I need you to look at the gutters.”

“Gutters, smutters. I need a shovel so I can dig you a swimming pool. You would never have a water bill to fill it.”

“Jack, you’ve been asking me to put in a pool for the last three years. I’m not going to do it.”

“You let me build the deck.”

Lisa didn’t bother to point out she’d let him build it under their brother Stephen’s supervision. “Lumber is not the same as concrete.”

“Concrete is more fun.”

“You just want to plant your hands in it and be remembered for posterity.”

 

“A guy has to have a goal in life.”

She laughed as she pointed back toward the garage. “Outside.”

Twenty minutes later, Jack was on a ladder at her roofline. “Got His grin was infectious. “You need gloves.”

“I’d just get them wet.”

He leaned over to look down the length of the gutter. “Got a “As much as I would love to be your boss for the day, I think it’s “What?”

“I heard you two went out to dinner.”

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