Page 371 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

“When do I have time to read? My commute is six minutes. Do you know how many workdays it would take me to listen to a twenty-two-hour epic that’s supposed to be tragic, and I’ll be destroyed by it?” Sarah sighed. “I see that every day, and they don’t want to hear about my tragic story.”

Addie turned and sat on the edge of the desk, the phone sandwiched between her shoulder and ear. That thought only made her hungry for an actual sandwich. How long had she been at this? “I don’t suppose there’s a twenty-four-hour diner in the vicinity of Fourth and Trenton that serves cheeseburgers and milkshakes.”

“Be still my heart. I think I just found my new best friend.”

Addie chuckled. “You know if we do this, that Rizzoli and Isles thing isnevergonna die.”

“You think those two would care about that? No. They just keep wearing uncomfortable heels that look fabulous and do their jobs.” Sarah paused. “Not that I want to be there to catch the bad guys.”

“Noted.” Addie remembered Sarah’s reason for calling. “So, Doctor Carlton, how did Celia Jessop die?”

“Petechiae on the face and bruising to the trachea suggest she was strangled.”

Addie blew out a breath, and her throat tightened reflexively.

“It was done from behind, and I estimate that her assailant was taller than her.”

“She was what, five six?”

“Seven and a half.”

Addie pulled over a notepad and wrote that with the stub of a pencil she’d found in one of the drawers. “Thanks. Anything else?”

“No signs of sexual assault, though she was active recently.”

“DNA?”

“None.”

“Doesn’t mean it wasn’t about power.”

“True.” Sarah paused. “Were you serious about that milkshake?”

“One question before we switch topics.” Addie tried to fight the shudder. “Were there signs she was bitten? Like a spider or some other kind of bug.” She realized she’d started thumbing the inside of her thigh just up from her knee.

“Actually, yes.”

Addie stretched out her fingers. “I’ll need a copy of your report when it’s finished. And seriously, wouldyouever joke about a milkshake?”

Sarah was quiet for a second. “No way. Especially if it’s chocolate.”

Addie smiled. “Call me when you’re done for the day. I’ll meet you there.”

“And if it’s two in the morning? I mean, you mentioned twenty-four hours, and I know just the place.”

Addie looked at the clock on the wall. It was just after eight in the evening. “Doesn’t matter what time.”

“Okay.” Relief rang in Sarah’s voice. “Gotta go.”

Addie hung up the phone and stayed where she was. Her legs ached from standing for so long. Since that interview with Jake earlier, she’d spent hours pulling files from boxes. Noting case details. Trying to establish a pattern.

A white board standing on wheels the police had brought in was to her left. After she filled that she’d asked for at least four more and they’d delivered.

One board held three-by-five cards that detailed a case number for reference, and basic details like the victim’s race, manner of death, the date, and anything else she’d deemed relevant.

One board was about cause of death. Another was mapped locations of crime scenes where the bodies had been discovered. Even if she wasn’t sure the perpetrator was the same for each crime, Addie wasn’t ruling anything out by assumption. Not until she knew for sure.

The next board had witness sketches from three of the cases and everything compiled about the person who did this—the beginning of a profile. Anything and everything that might prove relevant to her solving this case.

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