Everywhere She Turns Read Online Free PDF Page A

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    “All right, then.” Braddock gestured to the side entrance. “The ME is waiting. I had to pull some major strings to make this happen.”
    Though she couldn’t care less what hoops he’d had to jump through, she nodded. Followed as he led the way. She quickened her pace to keep up with his long strides. He wasn’t carrying a weapon today. Maybe even he conceded to the Lord’s Day on some level. His badge and cell phone were clipped to his belt. No matter that she wanted nothing to do with him; he was her only link to what had happened to her sister. There were questions she wanted to ask, details she needed to understand, but those could wait a few minutes.
    Right now, she wanted this over.
    She’d managed to pull off the whole I’m-a-professional-I-can-take-it attitude so far, but with the way her insides were quaking, that wasn’t going to last long.
    The heat index had to be well over a hundred, turning the city’s miles and miles of concrete and asphalt into a highly efficient oven. Her blouse and slacks were stuck to her skin. Her hair was plastered to the back of her neck.
    God, she hated this place.
    Inside the lobby, the climate-controlled air chilled her sweat-dampened skin, making her shiver. Braddock acknowledged the security guard at the reception desk with a nod, then pointed to the double doors marked PERSONNEL ONLY . The guard respondedwith a two-fingered salute and the doors started their slow swing inward.
    The fact that CJ had known for a long time that this moment was a strong probability considering her sister’s lifestyle failed to diminish how much it hurt. How badly she wanted this to be a misunderstanding. Why couldn’t it be like in the movies? She would stare down at the body and find that it wasn’t Shelley.
    But that wouldn’t happen. Braddock was here.
    Beyond those double doors a long white center corridor led to what CJ presumed were laboratories, autopsy rooms, and cold storage units. The too-familiar smells assaulted her. No matter how new or high-tech the facility, there was no perfected method to disguise the overpowering scent of preservative chemicals and refrigerated flesh.
    A lump rose in her throat.
    Her sister was in there . . . in one of those poly bags inside a deep metal drawer.
    Focus on the steps
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    A woman, blond hair, tall, buxom, stepped into the corridor. “Detective Braddock,” she said with a smile, then turned her attention to CJ. “Ms. Patterson.”
    “Dr. Patterson,” Braddock said, circuitously correcting the woman, “this is Medical Examiner Candice Dobbins.”
    “Dr. Dobbins.” CJ extended her hand.
    “
Dr
. Patterson.” Dobbins cast a self-conscious glance at CJ, then gestured to the door across the hall. “This way.”
    Dobbins entered storage unit two. She paused long enough to pull on latex gloves, offered a pair to CJ. “We don’t generally allow family members back here, but Detective Braddock insisted.”
    “Thank you.” As she tugged the latex into place, CJ’s heart started that desperate pounding despite her best efforts to keep the rate measured and steady. She consciously adjusted her respiration to a slower, deeper pattern in hopes of heading off another adrenaline dump.
    Wasn’t working.
    Dobbins pulled a chart, then selected drawer nine. The glide of metal on metal hissed as she hauled open the long shelf.
    Pulse thumping, CJ moved to one side of the extended drawer unit. She stared at the white body bag as if this was her first time seeing one, as if she were watching herself do this rather than actually doing it.
    “She’s scheduled for autopsy the end of the week,” Dobbins explained. “If I can get to her sooner, I will. Preliminary tox screen showed no suspicious compounds or illegal substances.”
    Startled from the surrealism, CJ’s gaze met the ME’s. “No drugs?” Shelley had said she was clean in her voice mail, but CJ had assumed that she had lied yet again.
    Dobbins shook her head. “No drugs.”