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face to his name tag, back to his face. “Stroud?”
    He could see her connecting the dots, figuring out who he was.
    Times like these he thought maybe he shouldn’t have changed his name to Stroud. Maybe he should have kept his mother’s name. Or maybe something completely new. He’d be going off to college in the fall, and it would be nice to ditch the freak label. Leave it in Tuonela, where it belonged.
    Yep, he was bitter. Young and bitter. His girlfriend couldn’t hang out with him because of his history. He didn’t really blame her parents. If he had kids, he wouldn’t let them hang out with him either. But without Isobel’s stable influence, and with his dad doing the stuff he was doing, Graham was pissed off most of the time.
    “I know the camera’s running,” he said.
    Her cheeks turned bright red and she laughed.
    Maybe now that she knew who he was, she’d pay attention to him.
    Now that was funny.
    She shut it off. “Sorry.” Her smile was lopsided and sheepish. She replaced the lens cap and stuck the camera in her bag.
    “We’re making a documentary,” she told him. “Part of a senior project at the University of Minnesota.”
    Looking for a freak show. They weren’t the first or the last.
    “Are you related to Evan Stroud?”
    “He’s my dad.” No sense in lying. She’d find out anyway.
    “We’d love to interview him for the project.” She pulled out a business card. “We’d love to interview both of you.”
    Interview his dad? “That won’t happen.” He tried to hand the card back, but she wouldn’t take it.
    He’d expected things to get better once he found his dad, but in a lot of ways they were worse.
    “We’ll be in town for two weeks and are staying at the Tuonela Inn. My cell phone number is on the card.”
    When he saw she wasn’t going to take the card back, he pocketed it. It would have been rude to throw it away in front of her. “You’re a senior at the U of M?”
    “Not me.”
    She twisted around and looked over her shoulder for someone, then back. “I’m not a student. Well, I was, but I dropped out.” She shrugged as if to say, You know how it is with college. “I’m working for some students. They’re back there somewhere in that mob. They’re going to be really pissed that I didn’t get any footage of this. It’s the main reason we came. They’ll probably fire me and dump me without a dime.”
    She was playing him. He wasn’t an idiot.
    “It’s not like we’re selling it to Geraldo. Nobody will see it other than the professors. It’s for school.”
    The room was packed; people were growing impatient. Someone bumped the girl from behind.
    “You’d better get moving,” he told her.
    “Kristin!”
    Near the entry to the mummy room a girl waved both arms in the air. “Did you get it?” she shouted over the crowd.
    Kristin turned back to Graham and rolled her eyes. “An interview with your dad would really save my ass.” She adjusted the strap on her messenger bag. “Call me.” She moved past him and the mob surged forward.
    Graham didn’t want her to get in trouble and lose her job. Maybe he’d let her interview him, but he wasn’t letting anybody near his dad.

 
    Chapter Five
     
     
    Rachel covered the skinned body with a sheet. Without removing her blood-splattered disposable gown, she left the basement autopsy suite and stepped into the hallway, where Mayor McBride and Alastair Stroud waited.
    She’d invited them inside for the exam. The mayor had passed. The police chief had given up after two minutes. Her assistant had lasted ten before dashing from the room.
    The carcass hadn’t bothered her. Not even the smell, which was strange given her condition and the way her stomach heaved when she caught a whiff of strong perfumes.
    Both men glanced at her belly, then back up, discomfort on their faces.
    Except for a couple of friends, nobody in town had questioned her about the pregnancy. And nobody— nobody —knew the identity