Page 22 of Midnight Secrets

“Welcome to Anchorage, folks.” The pilot unbuckled and got out of his seat. “If you have a connecting flight, please check the board inside for your next gate. And if this is your final stop, and you have bags, your luggage will be right outside.” He reachedfor the door and unhooked the latch. Swinging it open, a blast of cold air hit.

“Watch your step on the way out.” The pilot unfolded the stairs and descended.

I unfastened my seatbelt and moved into the aisle, eager to be off the tiny plane.

On the ground, I found my carry-on and headed inside. Nina had arranged a rental for me. If it wasn’t a two-day drive home, I’d use it to get back to Parker’s Landing.

Fifteen minutes later, I was ensconced inside a white Ford Escape and on my way to the state medical examiner’s office. The autopsy wasn’t scheduled for another forty-five minutes, but I couldn’t check in to my hotel until three, and I wasn’t about to eat lunch before watching the M.E. cut into Mrs. Hammond’s body. It would be a pointless endeavor, because it would all end up in the trashcan in the corner.

Parking in the lot, I walked up to the building. After giving my name to the front desk, I was shown to a waiting area.

With time to kill, I opened my texting app and fired off a message to Turner to see what, if anything, he’d discovered from the Hammonds’ credit card records. Yesterday, I tasked him with cross-referencing charges and tracking down where they were from.

Almost immediately, he responded.

Nothing much. Warren liked to eat out. A few of the charges look like they might be for more than one person. I’m going to check them out later. See if anyone remembers seeing him with someone.

That could be promising. Especially if we could get him on camera with a woman.

Before I could text back, he sent another message.

I checked business and property records this morning and found a plot of land in the middle of nowhere registered to anLLC Hammond set up a couple of years ago. We might need to charter a bush plane to get out there.

I let out a long sigh. More small planes—and an even tinier one than I’d been on today. Great.

Okay.I texted back.I’ll call you later to go over autopsy results and see what you find out about those meals. Thanks for your help.

Anytime, Turner responded.

Switching to my email, I cruised through my inbox. The Hammond case wasn’t the only one on my plate. I had several theft cases and an assault to worry about.

Nothing significant had popped on any of them, though. One suspect had a bail hearing scheduled for tomorrow, another had been remanded into custody after violating the terms of his bail. I was still waiting on fingerprint and fiber evidence for the assault so I could hopefully make an arrest.

“Detective Quartermaine?”

I looked up.

In the doorway, a woman in blue scrubs, clogs, and her dark hair tucked up under a surgical cap smiled expectantly.

“Yes?” I rose.

She moved into the room, a hand outstretched. “I’m Dr. Rebecca Campos, the M.E. performing the autopsy on Marie Hammond.”

I shook her hand, briefly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too. Come on back.” She motioned for me to follow her.

Entering the exam area of the facility, she led me to a prep station, where she gave me a blue gown, shoe covers, and a mask from the metal shelving.

“Put all that on. There’s some chest rub on the shelf there if you want to put some under your nose.” She nodded toward a shelf on the wall by the sink to my right.

I glanced over and saw the small blue container. “Great, thank you.” Tucking the gown and mask under my arm, I put the shoe covers on. With them in place, I donned the gown, then utilized the chest rub before putting on the mask. Marie Hammond’s body was fairly fresh, so the smell wouldn’t be terrible, but there would still be an unmistakable odor of death about her. It was a sour smell and just… off.

“All set?” Dr. Campos’s expectant smile returned. She’d donned similar attire while I got ready.

I nodded. “Let’s do this.”

She pushed through a swinging door to the lab.

---