The Object of His Protection. Brenda JacksonЧитать онлайн книгу.
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Frowning, he turned the corner onto the road that would take him to his office. Later, he would drop by headquarters to check the police report again on Joe Dennis’s death to see if he’d missed anything. Drey was determined to find out anything and everything that he could.
“I’m leaving to attend a meeting, Charlene. Don’t stay too late.”
She smiled as she glanced over at Nate Ganders as he slipped into his jacket. “I won’t. In fact I intend to leave on time today.”
When he tried smothering a cough, she said, “And please take my advice and do something for your cold. You’re passing germs and I can’t afford to get sick.”
Nate’s chuckle was the only sound he made before leaving the room. She stretched her legs, trying to recall just how long the two of them had worked together. Three years. He was an easy enough boss, although he could be demanding at times. The city had this thing about doing more with less, and amidst a number of budget cuts, the coroner’s office was operating on slim funds that could barely keep up with the number of suicides and suspicious deaths they handled each year. Her only saving grace was that Nate left her alone to do her job, and the nice salary increases she’d gotten each year let her know her hard work and dedication hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Nate was a pleasant man, and a good father to two children. And from the conversations Charlene had overheard, he was happily married to a woman he’d adored for over twenty-five years.
Seeing it was almost five o’clock, she stood up after logging off her computer. She then recalled Drey’s visit and what he had asked her to do. Deciding now would be the best time since Nate had left for a meeting, she went into the autopsy room to take a look at Joe Dennis’s chart. Nate had just finished performing the autopsy on Dennis, and the chart was still lying on the table. She picked it up and began reading.
“Trauma to the head, consistent with an attack from behind, as well as several other bruises to neck and shoulders.” She raised her brow at the notation that a key had been removed from the victim’s stomach. She glanced over at the key that was on the table. Why would anyone swallow a key?
Deciding that was definitely something worth mentioning to Drey, she left the autopsy room, determined to call Drey once she got home. She was about to exit the room when she heard Nate talking loudly to another man. Odd, she thought, because in the three years she’d worked with Nate, she had never known him to raise his voice. And why had he returned in the first place? Most of the time his meetings lasted for an hour or longer.
She decided it was none of her business. Besides, she’d better leave before Nate found something else for her to do. As she headed for the door, she couldn’t help noticing that the voices had gotten louder. She paused. Nate was definitely upset about something, but so was the man he was talking to. His voice was deep and sounded slightly hoarse. She could only assume, since she hadn’t been sitting at her desk when Nate returned, that he thought she had left for the day. Not wanting to eavesdrop on Nate’s argument any longer, she slipped out the door.
Drey heard his cell phone ring the moment he stepped out of the shower. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he quickly walked out of the bathroom to pick it up off the nightstand next to his bed. “Yes?”
“Drey, this is Charlene.”
He felt his stomach churn and immediately thought, not for the first time, that she had such a sexy phone voice. There was just something about it that made goose bumps rise on his skin. Wanting to curb the boost to his testosterone level, he said, “Charlie.”
She paused a moment, and he figured she’d done so to blow off a little steam, before saying, “I was able to take a look at Nate’s report on Dennis.”
The way she said the statement told him there was more. “And?”
“And I noticed a couple of things you might want to know.”
“Such as?”
“There was trauma to the head consistent with some sort of an attack from behind.”
Drey nodded. Not that the police had been much help, but he had paid a visit to headquarters after lunch hoping to learn something not on paper. For some reason it seemed everyone had closed lips. Usually they would loosen for a former member of their own, but today was not the case. And unfortunately, Detective Lavender Sessions, his former partner while on the force, was out of town. Like Charlene, Drey could always count on him to tell him what he needed to know.
“And there’s something else pretty strange about Joe Dennis.”
Charlene’s statement cut deep into his thoughts. “What?”
“He swallowed a key.”
“Excuse me?” Drey said, certain he hadn’t heard her right.
“I said he swallowed a key. One was taken out of his stomach.”
Drey rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Are you sure?” Immediately, he knew he had made a mistake in asking her that. In all his dealings with Charlene he had come to realize that she was a professional who knew her business.
“Of course I’m sure. Not only did I read it in the report, but I saw it myself. Nate hadn’t removed it from the table.”
Drey didn’t say anything for a moment; he was too busy thinking. Had Dennis swallowed the key to keep it from getting into someone else’s hands? Was the key a link to Harmon’s death? Those were questions he intended to get answered. “What sort of key was it?” he asked.
“Too small to be a door key. It was more like the size of a locker key or safe-deposit box key.”
He rubbed his chin again, his curiosity igniting. “I need a copy of that key,” he said, placing the phone on speaker so he could get dressed.
“That’s not possible, Drey. I don’t mind passing information on to you if I think it will help your case, but I draw the line at removing anything that could later become evidence.”
“And I’m not asking you to,” he said quickly.
“Well, what are you asking me to do?”
He could hear the agitation in her voice. The last thing he wanted to do was get her teed off, especially now when he needed information about that key. “I’m asking that you provide me a mold of it in wax. I’ve got a small kit that resembles a ladies’ compact.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, as if contemplating his request. And then she asked, “But what good is that when you don’t know what the key goes to?”
“I’ll find out. So will you get an indention of that key?”
“I don’t know, Drey….”
“Please.” If he sounded desperate, there was no help for it. He needed to know everything about Joe Dennis’s death, especially now that he knew it hadn’t been from natural causes.
He could hear her deep sigh and felt his heart begin to beat wildly in his chest. Even her sigh was a turn-on.
“Okay, fine,” she said.
He couldn’t help but smile. If he solved the case and was able to link it back to Harmon’s death, then he owed her more than just dinner. “Meet me tonight so I can give the kit to you.”
“Where?”
“You name the place. Better yet, if you give me your home address I can drop it off there.”
He heard the hesitation in her voice and was about to throw out another option when she said, “That’s fine, since I really don’t want to go back out tonight. I live in the Rippling Shores Condos.”
He knew the area. It was a newly developed subdivision of nice townhomes. “I know where it’s located. What’s the condo number?”
She rattled it off to him and he saved