Shadow Fall (Tracers Series Book 9) by Laura Griffin Read Free Book Online Page A

steps, it looked like a Greek monument. She pulled into the parking lot and found a space near the front.
    “You need to vet that alibi,” she told M.J. “The soon-to-be-ex-husband is looking like our prime suspect.”
    “Hence the lawyer,” M.J. said. “And I’m inclined to agree with you, except for the obvious.”
    “What’s that?”
    “The body , Tara.”
    The emotion in her voice gave Tara pause. And she knew what M.J. meant. The crime was horrendously violent. Could a man really do that to his own wife?
    The answer was yes. But M.J. was new to the job so not as jaded as Tara was.
    “It might also explain the lack of noise,” Tara said logically, “or signs of struggle at the park. Maybe she knew her killer.”
    “But why go public?” M.J. said. “That’s risky. If her husband wanted to kill her, why not do it at home and set it up like an accident?”
    “We’re not even sure it’s her yet,” Tara pointed out. “And anyway, maybe he wanted it to look like a stranger killed her. A random act of violence. Or a hate crime. Or someone stalking her for political reasons, like one of the people who prompted her to hire bodyguards when she was running for Congress.”
    “Yes, but if he wanted it to look like that, why argue with investigators about her driving her car to the park?”
    They both got quiet, thinking it through.
    Tara slid from the SUV, and a cold January wind whipped against her face. “I’ll call you later. I’m at the crime lab.”
    “Good luck,” M.J. said. “I hope you get some answers.”

CHAPTER FOUR

     
    T ara was looking for Dr. Walter Crumbley, and she expected a balding man in a white lab coat.
    Instead she got an auburn-haired woman in faded jeans.
    “I’m Kelsey Quinn,” she said, striding up to the reception desk. “I understand you’re here for Walt?”
    “That’s right.”
    “He’s out this week. Knee surgery. I’m covering his cases.” She glanced at the receptionist, who was handing Tara a visitor’s badge. “We set here?”
    “All checked in, Dr. Quinn.”
    Tara followed the doctor through the spacious lobby and down a sloping corridor where she stopped at a door and swiped her ID against a keypad. The door slid open, and they stepped into a wall of cold air.
    “I’m in the Bones Unit,” she told Tara over her shoulder. “They call it the Crypt because it’s so chilly.”
    Another swipe of her ID, and she stepped through a door.
    The temperature wasn’t the only reason they called it the Crypt. The room was filled with stainless-steel tables. On each was a set of bones.
    “You’re a forensic odontologist?” Tara glanced at the doctor.
    “Forensic anthropologist,” she said, slipping into a lab coat. “I deal with the whole skeleton, not only the teeth. Come on back here and we’ll have a look. I’ve been working on her since this morning.”
    Tara darted a look at the tables as she passed by. On some were full skeletons, on others just a few small bones no bigger than twigs. Atop one of the tables was a lone skull. Counters and stainless-steel sinks lined the wall. The room smelled like formaldehyde, and Tara stifled a shudder.
    “You’ll have to excuse the mess. It’s our high season. We’ve been inundated with cases since November.”
    Tara followed the woman into a darkened room, where she switched on a light. Tara had braced herself for a corpse, but on the table in the center of the room was a microscope.
    “Why November?” Tara asked.
    The doctor picked up a large manila envelope from the counter. “Deer season.”
    Tara must have looked blank.
    “Hunters are a forensic anthropologist’s best friend,” she explained. “See, in cities, bodies tend to be found quickly, and they typically go to the medical examiner. In rural settings, not so much. I get the cases where more time has elapsed, remains that have been discovered weeks or months or even years later. Remains that have been buried or otherwise hidden by nature.