Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Maddox peers inside Bill’s office. “I’m just saying that some due diligence might be worthwhile. Will you keep watch while I look around?”
“Okay. But please be careful. And don’t rip the office apart. I don’t want Bill to think that we were snooping around.”
“Of course.” He gives me a quick kiss and then steals inside the office.
I fix my eyes down the hall where we came from. The doors leading to the room we were in with Bill aren’t moving.
But my heart races anyway. It’s late, but it’s entirely possible that Bill isn’t the only one here. If there’s another coroner working overtime, or even a cleaning crew—
“Hurry, Maddox,” I hiss into the office. “Are you finding anything?”
“Nothing so far,” he says. “Just… Wait a minute.”
“What is it?”
“Holy fuck.”
“What? Something about May?”
“No. It’s something about…someone else.”
My heart races. “Who? Svetlana?”
“No…”
I snap my neck around. Footsteps, coming from the opposite direction of where we were. “Someone’s coming. Whatever it is, just grab it.”
“If I grab it, Bill will know that something’s up.”
“Then just take the files, leave the folder. Replace the papers you take with some other paper to make it look full.”
The footsteps are growing louder.
“Maddox?” I whisper. “Maddox!”
Finally, he exits the office, a fistful of papers in his hands. I turn around and nearly crash into a tall, slender man in a lab coat.
“Oh! Excuse me.”
He eyes Maddox and me. “What are you doing here so late?”
I swallow. “Sorry, sir. We’re friends with Bill. He— A friend of ours died recently, and he performed the autopsy. He wanted to give us the results in person.”
The man raises his eyebrows. “Couldn’t have waited until morning?”
“He promised us he’d give us the information as soon as it came in,” Maddox says. “She was a very good friend, and we just wanted answers.”
“And you’re off to the Met Gala?” he asks, scanning our clothes.
“We were at the symphony when we got the call from Bill,” I say.
“Indeed we were. Fantastic program. Are you familiar with Shostakovich?” Maddox asks.
“Never heard of him.”
“Well, he’s great.” Maddox shifts his gaze. “Anyway, we’re actually headed out now, but we were going to stop for the bathroom.”
Duke Goldman, M.D.—according to his nametag—narrows his eyes. “Bathrooms are closed. They always are outside of regular business hours.”
“There you have it,” Maddox says. “We’ll just hold it then. Thanks, and sorry for the bother.”
He grabs my hand and we leave out the nearest door, allowing it to lock shut behind us.
We get into the car and all the tension from the last hour—the news about May, the playing cards, Maddox sneaking into the office, and our exchange with the other coroner, Duke, hits me in a big wave. I let out a resonant sob.
Maddox immediately squeezes my shoulder. “It’s okay, babe. Let it out. That was scary.”
I grab another tissue out of my purse and blow my nose. “Sorry. That was just…so much. And we’re no closer to figuring out May’s identity.”
“But we have some leads,” Maddox says. “We have those playing cards, and we have the name of the guy who saw Svetlana alive last.” He brandishes the papers he stole from Bill’s office. “And we have this.”
I wipe my eyes. “What did you grab?” I lean over. It’s another coroner’s report, but one from several years ago.
The name at the top?
Henry Hathaway.
“Henry Hathaway? Is that…?”
Maddox nods. “It’s about time I told you about my father.”
19
MADDOX
Another long day at the haberdashery.
Don’t get me wrong. I love working here. Have loved working here for nearly two years now.
I rebuffed my family’s legacy and forged my own path. Followed my passion.
But things have been tight. Dad sucks up half of my profits, and almost all the money I make goes right back into the shop.
My regular expenses? Groceries and gas?
That all just goes onto a credit card, and my debt is slowly growing.
I’ve done my best to budget, which was an adjustment after living in the Hathaway mansion for the first eighteen years of my life. But I’ve tightened my belt to minimize my expenses.
Luckily, I’ve met a great woman. Laurie Caulkins. She’s given me a shoulder to lean on through these hard times. I haven’t ever asked her for any money, but I’ve let her cover the bill every so often when we go out for dinner.
Every penny counts right now.
I check my watch. Time to start closing things down for the day.
I’ve had a few customers. One solid sale. Enough to keep the lights on for another day once my old man takes his half.
I’m bringing the blinds down over the front windows when my cell phone starts vibrating. I pull it out of my pocket.
It’s Mom.
I don’t hear much from Mom anymore. Not since the divorce. She checks in occasionally, but lately she’s been drowning her sorrows in booze. I don’t call her much. It just makes me too sad.