A Deeper Darkness Read Online Free PDF

Notification would be fun.
    “We’re all done here, sir.” A freckled worker, laden down with bags, flagged him down in the hall. “M.E.’s gonna move the body now.”
    “All right. Thank you. Who’s on this morning?”
    “Lurch.” The tech grinned at him. “Have fun.”
    “Great,” Fletcher groaned.
    “You are talking about me, I presume.”
    Amado Nocek emerged from the hallway. He was cadaverously pale and extremely tall. Fletcher always thought he looked like some sort of translucent praying mantis, hands rubbing together in glee over the dead. They called him Lurch behind his back. He would suck them dry if they tried it face-to-face, but he knew what they said. In the manner of all great men, Nocek ignored their ignorance.
    Fletcher shot the tech a look. “Of course we aren’t talking about you, Dr. Nocek. How have you been?”
    “I am fine. Suffering from a malady I’ve not yet been able to discern, but it involves a great deal of mucus.” He proved his point by sniffing hard and long, his reddened nose closely resembling a proboscis. When the insect invasion came, Nocek would be flying in the lead formation.
    “Keep that cold to yourself. When will you do the post?”
    “You’ll have to call the office. We had a rash of deaths this week, and I’m afraid we’ve fallen behind. Some of that is my fault. The illness I alluded to has precluded me from working for the past few days.”
    “Will you let me know?”
    “Of course. It will probably be Friday at the earliest. I intend to send out engraved invitations. Do you need a plus one?”
    “Yes. Detective Hart will be attending, as well.”
    “Fine. Fine. I’ll see to it. If you will, I’d like to return to the office of the chief medical examiner now. Justitia omnibus .”
    He wandered off and Fletcher didn’t know which to shake his head at, that Nocek didn’t call it the OCME like everyone else, or the obscure reference to the motto for the District of Columbia: justice for all. Like that happened. Especially in a homicide case.
    Fletcher reached in his pocket for fresh nitrile gloves and went back into the bedroom. Watched them load up the body. Yawned, and made peace with the fact that he wouldn’t be getting any sleep any time soon. Decided to go help with the canvass, after all.
    And damn it, the coffee was cold, too.

Chapter Seven
    Nashville, Tennessee
Dr. Samantha Owens
    Sam was astounded by how expensive it was to book a plane ticket without advance notice. Eleanor had insisted on paying, had given Sam her credit card number. Still, she didn’t want to bilk the woman. She finally gave up on that notion and settled for convenience: a flight that landed at Reagan National at 11:00 a.m.
    She turned off the computer, went to her bedroom and got ready for bed. Set the alarm, even though sleep was out of the question. Picked up a book from her night table. She had no idea what it was or what it concerned. She tried to read, but the words kept blurring. She gave up after half an hour and shut off the light. Laid there in the dark, listening to the house creak around her. She should get a cat, something soft and furry to sleep with her. She’d like a dog, but she was allergic.
    Her thoughts coiled around themselves. She let them.
    This morning’s call about the drowning. Her flight from her responsibilities. If she’d just come home earlier, she’d have gotten the message from Eleanor sooner and could have flown to D.C. tonight.
    If she hadn’t been so selfish two years ago…
    They might have escaped.
    Water. Bullets. Hearts.
    She rolled onto her side, punched her pillow to fluff it up.
    She had to find a way to cope. This was her life now.
    Smiling eyes, soft kisses, the breeze across the bridge.
    Her house was too quiet. She missed them.
    Missed them all.
    Donovan.
    There she was, back to exactly what she was trying to avoid thinking about—Donovan.
    It was no use. It was too fresh for her to compartmentalize and hide away. She