Dead Hot Shot (Loon Lake Fishing Mysteries) by Victoria Houston Read Free Book Online Page B

there’s less than three feet of water there. That’s why I don’t think Mom drowned — so maybe Dad’s right and it was lightning?”
    “You can tell us for sure, Dr. Osborne,” said Reece, “but I heard thunder off in the distance late last night. Lightning can strike without rain, you know. Like I said — my wife had a ridiculous habit of always coming down to the dock before she retired, no matter the weather — ”
    “Thing is — this is November,” said Lew, interrupting. “We’re more likely to get snow than rain. I don’t recall any thunderstorms predicted for last night and weather is something I pay attention to. Our muskie season ends Saturday. With that plus opening deer season, I anticipate lots of traffic on the roads so I’ve been watching the forecasts.
    “But enough conjecture. We’ll know soon enough. Now, Dr. Osborne, will you please explain to Mr. Reece and his daughter what you will be needing from them.”
    “Certainly,” said Osborne, as anxious as Lew to get the process underway. “First, I am responsible for documenting that a death has occurred — not cause of death. That’s up to the pathologist and that could take some time, depending.” Catching a look of caution from Lew he decided to skip the usual patter on whether or not an autopsy would be required. Given she had made that decision in spite of the cost to her budget, he saw no need to open the issue for discussion. “. on their schedule,” he wound up instead.
    “As deputy coroner, my role is to confirm that a death has occurred, state whether it is natural or unnatural, and note the apparent circumstances. With your help, I’ll complete an initial draft of the death certificate that will be finalized following the autopsy. And I believe,” he turned to Lew, “that Chief Ferris has arranged for the autopsy.”
    Lew nodded, “Yes, Mr. Reece is aware I’ve made those arrangements.” Again the look of caution directed at Osborne.
    “Please, please, Chief Ferris, Dr. Osborne, the name is Andy.” Reece raised his voice to the booming level as he said, “The formality of ‘Mr. Reece’ is just — unsettling. No one who knows our family calls me ‘Mr. Reece.’” He pushed at his glasses, jammed both fists into his pockets, and swayed back and forth on his sandals.
    “Right, right, I’m sorry — Andy it is,” said Lew with a quick, tight smile as she jotted a note into the narrow reporter’s notebook that spent calmer days in her back pocket. “Andy. Blue,” Lew nodded towards each of them as she spoke, “once Dr. Osborne has examined the victim, the EMTs will handle the transport to St. Mary’s. The deceased will be kept in the hospital morgue and I am sorry but you won’t be allowed access until the pathologist has completed the autopsy.” “How soon will that be?” said Andy.
    “Today’s a national holiday, which delays things a bit, but I’m hoping to have it completed sometime tomorrow,” said Lew. “When we’ll have the results depends on the nature of any tests they may have to run.” As she spoke, Osborne realized the reason for her cautionary looks: she did not want to disclose that the pathologist she had requested perform the autopsy was not one affiliated with the hospital but an expert from the Wausau Crime Lab.
    “I’ll let you know as soon as Mrs. Reece can be released to the funeral home. Will you be taking the remains back to Illinois?” Lew’s pen was poised over her notebook.
    Andy Reece looked at his daughter with a blank expression on his face. Again the push on the glasses. “What do you think, Blue?”
    “Dad, she would hate that. We better wait and see if she put anything in her will about it. You know if we do it wrong.” Blue paused. Osborne couldn’t help but think she had caught herself about to say that if they didn’t follow orders, her mother would rise up in anger and rejoin the living. Blue’s words hung in the air.
    “Well, let me get started