Page 39 of Lake House Killer

Jack glances at his screen. “There’s another body.”

24

Special Agent Jack Stone

As soon as Fallon and I got the message, we jumped into my truck and headed out to Denver.

Riley offered to keep Buddy for us. And before we left, I gave Jet a savage threat about going after any more mobsters or their henchmen. He assured me that he understood.

Fallon and I didn’t say much on the drive over, with the exception of wondering why Nikki wasn’t answering her messages. She could either be driving or perhaps sleeping with one of our suspects.

Nikki knows the protocol: to answer as soon as you can. Our communication is critical and we’ve never wavered from that.

Fallon and I arrive in record time and speed into the building as if we were racing against a bomb. The bomb in question would be the coroner’s bedtime. We both know he doesn’t keep vampire hours.

The coroner’s office has that all-too-familiar clinical chill. The harsh fluorescent lights overhead buzz faintly, no voices, no music. There’s an unearthly stillness that reminds you that the primary focus here is on the dead. And as it stands, the dead don’t make a whole lot of noise.

Fallon and I make our way through the stark, sterile corridors with the smell of antiseptic strong in the air. We head straight for the Examination Room and find not only the coroner waiting for us, but also Special Agent in Charge Hale.

Hale’s expression is grim and he looks more than slightly irritated. “Where’s Nikki?” he grunts in lieu of hello.

“With Owen Marcus.” Fallon’s lips press tight once she says it as if she regrets the decision.

“She’s following up on some leads.” I don’t hesitate to say it because it’s partially true. That aside, Hale wouldn’t take too kindly to the fact Nikki is entertaining Owen for social purposes. I don’t take too kindly to it either, but I’ve never been able to stop her.

Hale’s frown deepens. “We need her here,” he mutters, more to himself than to us.

The coroner clears his throat. “Good evening.”

Miller Thompson is a big man with a frame big enough to fill a doorway. He’s knowledgeable, affable, and all-around a good guy. And despite the late hour, his energy seems undiminished. I’m guessing it’s a testament to the coffee he has access to.

“Agent Stone, Agent Baxter.” He nods to us. “I’m glad you could make it. Hale tells me this woman is connected to the case.”

“Who is it?” The words speed from Fallon and I’m equally curious.

He leads us over to a body lying on a steel bed with a sheet drawn over her.

“Her name is Nora Archer.” He does the unveiling and both Fallon and I groan.

“We were about to speak with her next,” Fallon laments.

I nod as we take in the pale woman. Dark hair, older, fairly fit, naked as a jaybird with a gash over her left temple. Dried blood dominates that side of her head.

I’ll admit, the sight is jarring. No matter how many times you see the aftermath of violence, it never gets easier.

Nora looks at peace, but the reality of her death is anything but.

“Check this out.” Miller dons a pair of latex gloves and touches the woman just shy of the right shoulder where two red marks are clearly delineated. “Stun gun, I’m guessing. The brick to her forehead finished her off.”

Hale looks from Fallon to me.

“I bet that’s what happened to Damien,” I say.

“And that may be how they subdued Lydia,” Fallon adds. “Damien mentioned she was hit and crumpled to the ground. The taser would disorient her enough to make it easy to hoist her off to wherever. But that’s still speculation.” She nods to the deceased. “How did you find the body?”

Hale ticks his head wistfully. “Neighbor called it in. Said they heard her shouting at someone. They went to check on her about an hour later. Her car was in the driveway, but she didn’t answer the door so they went out back and that’s where they found her.”

“What neighbor?” I’m quick to ask.

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