Shadow Fall (Tracers Series Book 9) Read Online Free PDF Page A

exist online. He’s invisible.”
    Tara made a three-point turn and headed back toward the highway, tamping down her annoyance. She’d just have to roll with it. No one was really invisible, and she’d find another way to access Liam Wolfe. In the meantime, they could be early to the autopsy and maybe get a moment alone with the pathologist.
    The Cypress County morgue was in a sixties-era brick building that housed the county’s administrative offices with the exception of the sheriff’s department, which shared the courthouse across the street. Tara and M.J. picked up visitors’ badges from the receptionist and followed her directions through a labyrinth of cinder-block hallways. After half a dozen turns, Tara started reading placards beside the doors, thinking they’d missed it. Then she rounded the corner and spotted a pair of khaki uniforms receding down the hallway.
    “Sheriff.”
    Ingram turned around, hat in hand. Fury swelled in Tara’s chest as she strode up to him. He smelled like menthol, and she noticed the ointment glistening over his upper lip.
    “We’re here for the autopsy,” Tara said.
    “Looks like you just missed it.”
    “You said ten o’clock.”
    He shook his head. “Doc showed up at seven, so we went ahead and got started.”
    Tara gritted her teeth. Behind Ingram, his deputy—Jason of the vomit breath—was already tucking a lump of chaw into his lip. He looked pretty pleased with himself.
    The sheriff arranged his hat on his head. “I’ll be sure to get you ladies a copy of the report,” he drawled, “soon as I have it in hand.”
    Down the hallway, a door opened, and a man in blue surgical scrubs walked out.
    Tara sidestepped Ingram and caught up to the doctor as he headed into a break room.
    M.J. snagged Tara’s arm. “You handle this. I’ll see what I can get out of the staff here.”
    “Thanks.”
    Tara turned back to the pathologist, who was pouring coffee into a Styrofoam cup.
    “Dr. Greenwood?”
    He glanced up. “You must be one of the feds who was running late.”
    “Not late. Misinformed.” And it was her own fault, because she should have seen it coming. “I’d like to ask you a few questions about the autopsy.”
    Greenwood was short, portly, and bald as a turkey vulture. He took a sip and made a face, then set the coffee aside and regarded Tara with bloodshot gray eyes.
    “I’ll finish my report by tomorrow,” he said. “You can read about it.”
    “I will, but in the meantime, I’d like to at least get the basics.”
    He leaned back against the counter. “You want an ID, I presume.”
    “That’s right.”
    “Were you at the crime scene?”
    She nodded.
    “Then you have an idea what we’re dealing with.” He folded his arms over his chest and looked up at her. “I compared the dental records of Catalina Reyes to films of the victim. Looks like a possible match.”
    “Possible?”
    “Several teeth were knocked out. I’d like to get confirmation from a forensic odontologist before we go public with a name.” He arched his eyebrows. “Given the circumstances.”
    “I understand,” Tara said, even though it meant more delays. But she didn’t blame him for being thorough. She could only imagine the fallout if he got the ID wrong in such a high-profile case.
    “What about fingerprints?” she asked.
    “So far, we’ve come up blank. In terms of the other findings, manner of death, obviously homicide. I’d say time of death was between six and ten on Wednesday night. Livor patterns indicate the victim was moved sometime after she was killed. Cause of death, asphyxiation—”
    “Asphyxiation? She was gutted like a deer.”
    Greenwood frowned reproachfully.
    “Sorry.”
    “Cause of death,” he repeated, “asphyxiation due to manual strangulation, evidenced by minor petechial hemorrhaging. The mutilation to the body occurred postmortem. At least an hour, I’d say. The instrument was a large blade, six inches or more. You might also be