Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Oakridge? The name had Laurel sitting straighter. It sounded like the detective had done her job. “All right. Thank you.”
“No prob.” The detective ended the call.
Laurel leaned to the side. “Kate? Isn’t Viv’s internship with Oakridge Solutions?” The place was one of many in the Seattle area conducting medical research.
“Yes. They recruited her right after Christmas, but it’s been tough with her sports schedules. Why?”
“Larry Scott, her friend that died? He worked there apparently,” Laurel called back.
Kate moved down the hallway to lean on the doorframe. “I see. She didn’t tell me, but I’m thinking she had a crush. He had to be older, right?”
“Yes. He was in his twenties.” Laurel frowned. What did that have to do with anything?
Kate sighed. “I sometimes forget you missed your teenage years. She probably had a crush, but currently has a boyfriend in high school, and she didn’t want to talk about any of it with her old mom. Especially since this Larry was too old for her. I’m glad she came to you with concerns, though.”
As was Laurel. “It really does sound like her friend died from suicide. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. I’ll let her know tonight and make sure she does speak with me.” Kate winked, then turned to head back up to her area.
That sounded like a good plan.
Laurel then pulled up the files DC had sent for her review. The North Carolina case had been presented as a possible serial killer, but it didn’t look like one to her. The three murders felt disjointed, unrelated in method and motive. Different killers. Different circumstances. Laurel typed out her analysis, noting the inconsistencies and backing her conclusions with statistics and probability ratios. Then she sent the email off, her fingers moving with crisp efficiency.
The fire bombings were another matter. She scanned the details, her gaze catching on patterns that didn’t quite fit. It was messy, but it held potential. After making several notes, she fired off inquiries to her contacts in the ATF, requesting additional data. She needed more than what she had to reach any sort of conclusion.
A glance at the clock told her it was nearing lunchtime, but she ignored the slight ache of hunger. Her mind was already shifting to the next task when Walter appeared in her doorway.
His skin had gone pale, several shades lighter than usual, and his eyes were wide, unfocused. Sweat clung to his forehead despite the cool air, and his hands trembled at his sides.
Laurel’s body tensed. “Walter, what is it?”
He shook his head slowly. Too slowly. Like his brain was fighting to form words. His lips parted, but no sound came out at first. Finally, he managed to speak, his voice cracked and hollow. “It’s my brother.” The words seemed to scrape from his throat, raw and painful. “They found Tyler’s body. He’s dead.”
Laurel’s mind stuttered, her analytical side trying to grab hold of something solid. Something to make sense of the blunt finality of his words. “Where and how?” Her voice came out steadier than she expected.
“On a smaller roadway along the Widow’s River. An hour or so outside of Elk Hollow.” Walter’s shoulders slumped. “It took the county time to identify him.”
How terrible. “He was hit by a vehicle?”
Walter shrugged. “Don’t know. The detective who called me wouldn’t give me information. Just wants me to come back in for an interview.”
“Walter, sit down.” She gestured to the chair across from her desk, her tone more command than suggestion. The county coroner was the best, and she figured they might have reached a friendship level. If not, a good colleague level. “I’ll start making calls. We’ll figure out what happened.”
He shook his head. “I promised to head to Elk Hollow. Can I borrow your rig?”
She reached for her raincoat. “As your supervisor, I’m going with you.” She would call Dr. Ortega on the way.
How had Tyler died?
Chapter 9
The Elk Hollow Police Department was nestled between a pawn shop with a tidy red awning and a malt shop painted in mint green and pink, both clean and inviting looking.
Laurel parked her Nissan Murano in the gravel-lined lot. Sunshine filtered through the windshield, a clear break from this morning’s rain. Walter sat in the passenger seat, shoulders pulled tight.
During the drive, they’d both watched out for that black truck that had rammed them. Just in case.
Laurel called Dr. Ortega three times after leaving the office. Each attempt went straight to voicemail. Hopefully, he’d soon conclude Tyler’s autopsy.
“Ready?” Laurel asked, keeping her tone neutral.
Walter nodded, the motion stiff.
Laurel stepped out of the SUV and waited for him to join her. The police station looked clean and bright, fresh white paint and blue trim gleaming in the sunlight. Brass letters above the door read ELK HOLLOW POLICE DEPARTMENT. Petunias and snapdragons lined the walkway in symmetrical rows.