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“Yep.”
I step to my dissection table and select a scalpel. Angling for his lungs first, I start my cuts, estimating he had, at most, just a few weeks to live, had he not taken his life in a bathtub in the last twenty-four hours.
I take samples of lung tissue for the lab, and before I forget, contents of his stomach. It would be veryChantof me to forget, and miss the fact Thomas could’ve been murdered, and not suicidal.
“Let’s finish him up,” I tell Aubree. “Run it all the way through, then I’m taking Archer home to rest.”
“I feel like we’ve gone off-target.” She works quickly to clean the inside of Thomas’ chest. “We’re supposed to be following up Holly Wade’s death, but now we have dirty cops, water-damaged files, another apparent suicide, cancer of the lungs,andI saw inside Doctor Chant’s home.”
“Big day for us.” I lean over my table and slice with fast hands. “But I don’t know that it means we’ve gone off-target. It seems the harder we tug on Holly, the more everything else unravels.”
“Yeah, well—”
“That means something, Doctor Emeri,” I allow. “But seeing as how we’re not the police, it’s not our job to hypothesize the case. We’re here to run the bodies.”
“Of course.” Firming her lips, she rolls her eyes for me to see, but not for the record to pick up.
“Cancerous abnormalities cover about seventy-five percent of the victim’s chest cavity.” Switching her sponge for a scalpel, Aubree removes several nodules and places them in specimen trays. “It’s my professional opinion this man was dying regardless. After we send samples to the toxicology lab to determine if he was under the influence of any substance, I’ll comfortably assess cause of death. Though,” lifting her hands from his body, she glances across to me. “I remain firm on my initial findings; this was unaided suicide. Not homicide.”
Nodding, I look down at the blackened lungs on my table. “I agree. But let’s get the science to back us up.”
* * *
“Chief Mayet?” The press waits on the doorstep of the George Stanley building, despite the fact it’s nearing ten at night and the bitter cold bites beneath everyone’s clothes. “Can you comment on Detective Neil Thomas’ death?”
“Chief Mayet!” Another shouts. “Can you confirm if this was a hate crime carried out against the police?”
“Chief Mayet,” a third pushes forward to be heard. “This on the back of the death of those two police officers out of midtown… Surely, Detective Thomas’ death will be taken seriously?”
“Come on.” Archer, my permanent knight despite his own injuries, places his fingertips on the back of my elbow and tries to steer me away from the bubbling crowd.
“Chief Mayet has no comment,” he says to the twenty or so cameras blinding us. “No one involved with a case will discuss said case while it’s still ongoing.”
“Minka Mayet?” a familiar voice asks.
My heart skips and my eyes shoot through the crowd in search of its owner.
“Being married to one of Copeland’s finest surely must make you worry.”
Archer tenses behind me. My legs turn to lead.
But Felix Malone stands among the crowd as though he’s one of them.
Smug. Handsome. He wears a beanie down to his brows, and a thick, black jacket Iknowhe took from Archer’s closet. With his arms folded and his eyes glittering with mischief, he announces my private business for every news station across the city.
“Neil Thomas’ death tonight. The deaths of Detective Fox and Officer Grayson only weeks ago. And now, your very own cop, injured while he shields you.”
“Married?” The crowd explodes with noise. “Chief Mayet is married?”
“We’re done.” Archer grabs my arm, tighter this time, and leads me toward a car. “Get in.” He yanks the passenger door open and pushes me inside, then slamming it shut again so the entire car rocks on its chassis, he stalks around to the driver’s side and slides in.
“You shouldn’t be driving,” I say the moment he tries to grab the wheel with his injured side. “Archer, you shouldn’t be—”
“And you shouldn’t be doxed all over live television,” he grits out.
Jamming the key into the ignition barrel, he turns the car over with a roar so every reporter moves back in fear for their lives.
Every single person moves… but one.
