Rausch & Donlon - Can Be Murder 01 - Headaches Can Be Murder by Marilyn Rausch, Mary Donlon Read Free Book Online Page A

self-image. Dr. Cooper would probably advise him to ignore it … “Let it go, Chip,” he said to himself.
     
     

Chapter Six
    Brain Freeze
    Duluth, Minnesota
     
    The St. Louis County Medical Examiner’s office was located within the University of Minnesota at Duluth’s School of Medicine. Jo pulled onto the campus and drove down roads narrowed by tall snow banks. Bundled up students trudged along freshly plowed sidewalks, heads bent down to protect their faces from the wind coming off Lake Superior. John wondered if the students recognized each other when they finally saw their faces again in the spring.
    The School of Medicine was a no-nonsense, modern building of tan and red brick, running along University Drive. Jo showed her badge to the guard in the station house before entering the parking lot.
    As she circled the lot looking for a parking spot, John said, “I forgot to ask. Who manufactured the chip?”
    “The serial number on the chip traces back to a corporation called NeuroDynamics, Inc. Ever heard of them?”
    John nodded. “I certainly have. The founder of the company, Charles Candleworth, was an old classmate of mine at Johns Hopkins. I ran into him at a neurology conference a couple of years back, and he tried to get me to join his company, working in research. Turned him down flat—I never liked the guy. Always cutting corners in med school. He got caught dealing research papers to other students. Daddy’s money hushed it up.”
    “Well, it looks like Candleworth may be into something considerably more sinister these days.” She pulled the SUV into the last spot available in the lot.
    “So, tell me about the ME. Is he any good?”
    She put the car in park and shut off the engine. “His name’s Sid Jurgenson. He’s been around forever. A bit of a legend in this part of Minnesota. He’s like Brett Favre—says he’s going to retire, then changes his mind. Truth is, people here will be sorry at that retirement party. If you’ll pardon the expression, he knows where all the bodies are buried.”
    “Agent Tinsdale says he’s quite a character.”
    Jo chuckled. It was a deep, throaty sound. A wonderful laugh. “That he is. No doubt about it. He’s a bit rough around the edges, with a dark sense of humor. Once you get used to that, though, you realize that nothing gets past him.”
    They entered the doorway and received visitor passes. Their snow covered shoes squeaked on the highly polished floors. Jo led the way to the ME’s office.
    Behind the reception desk sat a harried looking woman with springy gray hair. Jo and John stood for a moment, waiting for her to notice them. Jo finally cleared her throat. “Excuse, me. We’re here to see Sid Jurgenson.” The woman peered over her leopard-print reading glasses. She looked them up and down before responding, “And you are … ?”
    Jo sighed and straightened her shoulders. “I’m Special Agent Jo Schwann of the FBI.” She gestured toward John. “And this is Dr. John Goodman. Dr. Jurgenson is expecting us.”
    The woman reached for the telephone without responding. She punched a button and then spoke into the receiver. “Sid. Some FBI agent and a doc here to see you. Should I send ’em in or tell them to take a seat?”
    She nodded and hung up the phone. She tilted her head toward a hallway on the left. “Sid’s waiting for you. Go through those double doors over there. He’s in the first room on the right.” She went back to her paperwork without comment.
    When they were out of earshot, John muttered, “She’s got the personality of one of those snow banks outside. I’ll bet she gets along great with the clientele in here.” John looked over at Jo and was rewarded with a smile.
    “Wait ’til you meet Sid.”
    John raised an eyebrow.
    Just then, the man in question came through the door. He was the same height as Jo, and bent slightly forward, looking as if he might topple over at any minute. What little hair he had left was