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ME’s office set up to perform her exam, Heat filled her in on the discovery details the writer had provided in their kitchen interview. “Also, when you get a moment, I noticed a blood smear over there.” ME Parry followed Heat’s gesture to the same doorway she had just entered. Beside the jamb, the floral Victorian wallpaper showed a dark discoloration. “Looks like she might have tried to get out before she collapsed in the chair.”
    “Could be. I’ll swab it. Maybe Forensics can cut a patch so we can lab it; that would be better.”
    Ochoa returned to report that both trash barrels in the patio hutch were empty. “During a garbage strike?” said Nikki. “Find the super. See if he disposed of it. Or if she had private pickup, which I doubt. But check anyway, and if she had it, find the truck before they barge it to Rhode Island or wherever it goes these days.”
    “Oh, and get ready for your close-up,” said Ochoa at the door. “The news vans and shooters are lining up in front. Raley’s working with the uniforms to move them back. Word is out on the scanners. Ding-dong the witch is dead.”
    Lauren Parry rose up from Cassidy Towne’s body and made a note on her chart. “Body temp indicates a prelim TOD window of midnight to 3 A.M. I can do better after I run the lividity and the rest of the course.”
    “Thanks,” said Nikki. “And cause?”
    “Well, as always, it’s preliminary, but, I think, obvious.” She gently moved the office chair so that the body leaned forward, revealing the wound. “Your gossip columnist was stabbed in the back.”
    “No symbolism there,” said Rook.
    When Cassidy Towne’s assistant, Cecily, reported for work at eight she broke down in sobs. Forensics gave Nikki Heat the OK, and she righted two of the chairs in the living room and sat with her, resting a palm on the young woman’s back as Cecily leaned forward with her face in her hands. CSU had closed off the kitchen, so Rook gave her the bottle of water he had in his messenger bag.
    “Hope you don’t mind room temperature,” he said, and then shot an oops look at Heat. But if Cecily made the connection to her boss’s state in the next room, she didn’t let on.
    “Cecily,” Nikki said, when she finished a sip of water, “I know this must be very traumatic for you.”
    “You have no idea.” The assistant’s lips began to tremble, but she kept it together. “Do you realize this means I have to find a new job?”
    Nikki’s gaze slowly rose to Rook, who stood facing her. She knew him well enough to know he wanted his water back. “How long had you been with Ms. Towne?”
    “Four years. Since I graduated Mizzou.”
    “University of Missouri has an intern program with the Ledger ,” Rook injected. “Cecily transitioned from it to Cassidy’s column.”
    “That must have been quite an opportunity,” said Nikki.
    “I guess. Am I going to have to, like, clean all this up?”
    “I think our crime scene unit is going to be busy here for most of the day. My guess is the paper will probably let you take some time off while we do our thing.” That seemed to mollify her for the moment, so Nikki pressed on. “I need to ask you to think about something, Cecily. It may be difficult at this moment, but it’s important.”
    “ ’K . . .”
    “Can you think of anyone who wanted to kill Cassidy Towne?”
    “You’re kidding, right?” Cecily looked up at Rook. “She’s kidding, right?”
    “No, Detective Heat doesn’t kid. Trust me.”
    Nikki leaned closer in her chair to draw Cecily’s attention back. “Look, I know she was a lightning rod and all that. But over the past days or few weeks, were there any unusual incidents or threats she got?”
    “Oh, every day, like literally. She didn’t even see them. When I sort her mail at the Ledger , I just leave them there in a big sack. Some of them are pretty random.”
    “If we gave you a ride there, could we see them?”
    “Uh, sure. You’d probably