Page 36 of Identity Unknown
“This is Heidi, the governor’s scheduler. Your secretary said this was the only way to reach you right now, and I apologize for the intrusion. Please hold for Governor Dare.”
“Where are you?” she asks right off.
“At a scene in the western part of the state, and this is a bad time to talk, Roxane.”
“What’s this I hear about you threatening Ryder Briley inside his own house yesterday?” Her voice is demanding over the phone. “Not that I have an ounce of sympathy for him. But I understand he’s suing me, the medical examiner’s office, God knows who else and I absolutely don’t need publicity like this.”
“Ryder Briley is lying,” I reply. “He’s doing what he can to divert attention away from his daughter’s death investigation and perhaps other bad things going on.”
I explain that he’s been calling my office, parking outside my building, doing his best to intimidate. He attempted to have his daughter’s body spirited away before I’m done with it.
“What’s the loud background noise?” the governor asks. “Sounds like you’re in a carwash.”
“We’re in a tent, and it’s raining very hard.”
“What can you tell me about Luna Briley’s autopsy?”
“She died from a gunshot wound to the head.”
“I’m asking for the truth, Kay. Do you think she shot herself as the Brileys are claiming all over the news?”
“I think the parents have plenty to worry about.” That’s as much as I’m going to say, but it’s enough.
“Then she may have been murdered with her father’s gun,” the governor replies predictably. “And the parents were the only other people home when the shooting occurred, based on what I’ve heard?”
“The best person to talk to about the case is Alexandria investigator Blaise Fruge.”
“What I want to know from you, Kay, is whether you’re going to call Luna Briley’s death an accident or a homicide. Because it certainly sounds suspicious to me.”
“There are a lot of questions yet to be answered.”
“Prison would be exactly what Ryder Briley deserves,” she says, and I abruptly end the call as if the signal was dropped.
I can’t let her try to influence me or appear to be doing that, and I want no record of it. Looking up her cell phone number in my contacts list, I try her back, ending the call when she answers. I do this one more time before texting her that I’m in abad celland we’ll have to talk later.
Keep me informed,she writes back as I’m looking out at the rain, catching a movement in the corner of my eye.
I feel something looking at me as the hair pricks up on my arms and the back of my neck. Then I catch a movement in an empty window of the Witch’s Castle, something stirring slightly. A shape in the gloom.
“We’ve got company,” I inform Marino.
He looks where I point, but the castle window is dark, nothing there.
“I don’t see anything,” he says.
“I saw something.”
“Probably your eyes playing tricks on you.”
“I don’t think so,” I tell him as he looks around tensely, his hand near his gun again.
“I’m feeling worse about this place every minute,” he decides.
When the van pulls up, we lift the body, carrying it out. The cold rain loudly spatters the transparent plastic, my boots splashing through puddles. The investigator named Rob is behind the wheel, and Tron jumps out of the passenger side. She opens the tailgate while telling us that tornadoes are touching down less than thirty miles away.
“We need to get out of here.” She’s emphatic as we slide in the body.
“What about the tent?” Marino asks.