And that doctor bitch, she’d be tits up with her damn sister if she didn’t watch herself.
Maybe she would anyway. She’d had it coming for a long time.
Too long.
Chapter Six
2:30 p.m.
CJ made the right turn off Arcadia Circle into the parking lot of the Forensic Sciences building. The two-story redbrick structure stood in the center of the divided parking area with only the few contractor-planted trees surrounded by ornamental grass as landscaping. When CJ had lived here the autopsies had been done in Birmingham or Montgomery. Some things, it seemed, had changed.
As promised, Braddock was waiting. With his neatly pressed khakis, navy polo, and polished leather shoes, he could have just left the golf course after a few holes with his buddies. Or gotten out of the informal service at the big Methodist Church on Whitesburg where the thirtysomethings gathered to see and be seen. But Braddock didn’t play golf or go to church. No. The well-educated and notably arrogant major crimes detective spent all his time making sure justice was served.
On his terms.
Regardless of the cost to others.
A burst of outrage tightened the muscles of her face. She should appreciate that any member of Huntsville’s Police Department had shown up at all ... but she didn’t. She didn’t trust the motive or the man. He wasn’t here because he cared. There had to be something in it for him or his reputation.
CJ shut off the engine and pushed away the anger. She exhaled a weary sound. All she had to do was get through the next few minutes.
Then she never had to see Kevin Braddock again. Ever.
She got out of the rental. Braddock pushed away from his SUV and strode in her direction. His eyes were shielded by designer sunglasses. She couldn’t recall offhand the brand, but she’d seen the hotshot surgeons around the hospital sporting similar ones. Nothing was too good for the self-important detective.
“CJ.” He paused a solid eighteen inches of asphalt away. She’d ordered him out of her personal space enough times that he’d apparently finally gotten the message.
Still, the subtle scent of his familiar aftershave and the domination of his tall frame seeped into her senses. Reminded her of those few evenings they’d shared. Dinner and conversation. He’d said all the right things ... made her yearn for more. Made her rethink the prospect of an actual relationship in her life.
Good thing she’d gotten that painful wake-up call in the nick of time.
She stared at him now, too numb to feel the anger the mere mention of his name usually generated. That he didn’t bother removing his eyewear was irrelevant. She knew how brown his eyes were. Intensely dark, completely unreadable, and entirely too observant.
And completely capable of deceit.
She adjusted the strap of the bag dragging at her shoulder. “Braddock.”
His hands slid into his trouser pockets as if to ensure he didn’t make the mistake of reaching out to her. “I know this is difficult. Like I said on the phone, you don’t have to do this part—”
“I’m a doctor, Braddock.” She shoved the car door closed and squared her shoulders. “Bodies are an integral element of what I do every day. I’ve seen my share of mutilation, assault, and more degrees of decomposition than I care to list, so let’s just get this done.” Her lipscompressed into a hard but shaky line. She didn’t want Braddock or anyone else identifying her sister. CJ needed to do this herself.Be strong. Go through the steps.Don’t think.
Braddock studied her a moment. Did he think she should be crying on his shoulder? He just didn’t know. She had been through this before with her mom. She’d always done what she had to do; she would do it now. Taking care of Shelley was her responsibility.
Too bad she’d failed so miserably.
Don’t think. Just do it.
“All right, then.” Braddock gestured to the side entrance. “The ME is waiting. I had to pull some major strings to make this happen.”
Though she couldn’t care less what hoops he’d had to jump through, she nodded. Followed as he led the way. She quickened her pace to keep up with his long strides. He wasn’t carrying a weapon today. His badge and cell phone were clipped to his belt. No matter that she wanted nothing to do with him; he was her only link to what had happened to her sister. There were questions she wanted to ask, details she needed to understand, but those could wait a few minutes.
Right now, she needed this over.
She’d managed to pull off the whole I’m-a-professional-I-can-take-it attitude so far, but with the way her insides were quaking, that wasn’t going to last long.
The heat index had to be well over a hundred, turning the city’s miles and miles of concrete and asphalt into a highly efficient oven. Her blouse and slacks were stuck to her skin. Her hair was plastered to the back of her neck.
God, she hated this place.
