ONE
WEDNESDAY, 5:00 P.M.
The bodies in the Savannah, Georgia county morgue had nothing on medical examiner Dr. Jonah Harris. Tentacles of fatigue wrapped around him and nearly squeezed the life out of him. Finished for the work day, he dragged himself into his private office and collapsed onto the chair, melting into the cushion. He leaned back and ran his hands over his face. Three autopsies in one day had pushed him to his limit, but the young girl who’d died in her sleep had gutted him.
A vacation sounded better by the minute. Maybe he’d take a day to recharge and gain some perspective again. Taking a tour of historic Savannah, simply relaxing at Forsyth Park with a book, or a stroll down the Riverwalk might do the trick. Anything to get away from the stress.
The office phone, somewhere on his desk, rang.
He lifted a handful of documents and peered beneath the mound of files, searching for the offending noise. A stack of papers slid from the pile and scattered over his desk, knocking his name plaque onto the floor.
Jonah sighed. What a mess. He envied people who had the neat gene. He, on the other hand, struggled with ADD, and one of the side effects was the chaos when it came to his organizational skills. Noelle Burton, a member of the Elite Guardians Agency Savannah office, teased him mercilessly. She’d even gone as far as buying him a framed poster for his office that said A messy desk is a sign of genius.
He found the phone and snatched the receiver from the cradle. “Dr. Harris.”
“Hi, Jonah, this is Ken.”
“Ken, how’s it going?” Jonah tilted his head and scratched his five-o’clock shadow. Why hadn’t his friend, chief medical examiner Dr. Ken Dodson, called his cell phone?
He smacked his forehead.
Holding the receiver between his ear and shoulder, he stood and retrieved his cell phone from his pants pocket. “Sorry. I turned off my cell phone while in autopsy and forgot to turn it on afterward.”
“Appears like you’ve had a long day.”
“You could say that, but let’s not go there. How’s your day off?” He half listened to his friend and mentor while his phone powered on. Several missed calls and text messages popped up.
“Jonah, I need to talk with you.”
Ken’s serious tone grabbed Jonah’s attention. “Sounds ominous.”
“I have something rather important to tell you. Can you come over after you finish at work?” Ken’s request sent icy fingers crawling up Jonah’s spine and onto his scalp.
He mentally ran through what he had to do before he could leave. “I can be there in about thirty minutes. Can you give me a hint?”
Silence met his ears.
“Ken?”
“I’ve done things I’m not proud of.”
“Haven’t we all?”
“No, you don’t understand. Once this comes out, my professional reputation will be trashed.”
Jonah froze. “Ken, you’re worrying me here. Give me something?”
A deep sigh filtered across the line. “I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’ve falsified autopsy records.”
Jonah’s mind spun, trying to grasp Ken’s admission.
“Jonah, please say something.”
“I’m not even sure what to say.” He clutched the arm of his chair and lowered himself onto the cushion. “Why?”
“Cecile’s treatments were expensive. I made a deal with the devil. Now that my wife is gone, I intend to come clean, but I need your help and for you to stay quiet about it.”
Jonah ran his hand through his hair. His friend had dropped a bombshell that would have a rippling effect. “You’ve put me in a tough position. If I keep your secret, then I’m covering up your crime. But if I tell, you’ll lose your license and most likely go to jail.”