She snuggled deeper under the covers and closed her eyes on a shiver.
When she awakened again it was to sunshine streaming across her face. Birds chirped in the tree outside her bedroom window and she could hear the normal, everyday sound of traffic on the street. Relieved to have another bad night behind her, she crawled out of bed, showered and dressed in her usual uniform of jeans, sneakers and T-shirt. Then she headed to the lab, where she changed into scrubs, lab coat, goggles and mask.
Dr. Ramirez came in a few minutes later, and they began the autopsy on Dr. Nance’s remains. Nikki tried to distance herself from the process as she assisted in examining, removing and weighing the internal organs and in collecting blood and tissue samples. The procedure took little more than two hours. Only when the Y-shaped incision had been stitched did she step out into the hallway for a moment to catch her breath and steady her emotions.
As she feared, the preliminary findings were inconclusive. She delivered the results later that day to Sheriff Brannon in person.
He motioned her to a chair across from his desk while he took a moment to scan the report. “Says here the findings are consistent with drowning.”
Nikki nodded. “We found froth in the mouth, nostrils and trachea, and that, along with the elevated lung weight and pleural effusions, would suggest death by drowning. We’re waiting for some of the other test results before we reach a consensus. The toxicology screen could take a couple of weeks. Once everything is in, Dr. Ramirez will provide a more detailed analysis in his final report.”
Tom got up and closed his office door. “You’re satisfied with these findings?”
“If you mean as coroner, am I ready to rule the death an accidental drowning? No, not yet. I still want to know why and how he ended up at the lake when he was supposed to be at a conference in Houston. Something doesn’t feel right to me, Tom. Despite that, I find it hard to believe anyone would want to harm Dr. Nance. What would be the motive?”
“Motive will sometimes surprise you.” Tom sat back down and picked up the report. “I haven’t been able to track down the conference coordinator to confirm a cancellation, but we did find Dr. Nance’s Jeep at the cabin. The house was locked up. Dessie Dupre gave us a key to get in. No sign of a forced entry or struggle inside. We found his closed suitcase on the bed and his wallet, car fob and phone on the nightstand. There was cash in the wallet, along with his driver’s license, credit cards and insurance information. He cleaned out his pockets but didn’t take time to unpack before going out in the boat.”
“But why?” Nikki fell silent as she pondered the possibilities. Something occurred to her. “Did you find his journal at the cabin?”
Tom glanced up. “He kept a journal?”
“For as long as I’ve known him. He’s the one who persuaded me to journal when I was younger. I kept one faithfully for years, but it got to be too much work.” And too dangerous. Nikki paused, thinking about her secret hiding place at the Ruins and wondering again who may have stumbled upon her confession. “Anyway, if we can find his notes, maybe some of our questions will be answered.”
“I’ll run by his house later and see if Dessie knows anything about it. She may have remembered something else, too, since we last talked. What about his medical history? Anything there?”
“We had his records sent over before the autopsy. He had a physical last year. Other than mild hypertension, he was in good health for a man his age.”
“So that brings us back to his mental state.”
Nikki winced. She hated thinking about Dr. Nance out on the lake, perhaps lost and confused. Or in a moment of clarity, contemplating what might lie ahead of him. She tried to shake off a creeping despair. “As I said before, he seemed fine when I saw him last week.”
Tom glanced up. “You also said you were in a hurry to get back to work and may have missed something.”
“Your point?”
He leaned back in his chair. “I spoke to Dr. Wingate this morning. She told me there’d been some problems at the clinic lately.”
Nikki frowned. “What kind of problems?”
“Memory issues. Forgotten appointments, duplicated tests. He even mixed up two prescriptions. The mistake was caught in time, but when Dr. Wingate brought the error to his attention, he couldn’t remember writing either prescription. After that incident, she said he began referring most of his patients to her. He planned to phase out his practice altogether when he returned from the conference in Houston.”
“That’s strange,” Nikki said. “He never said anything to me about retiring.”
“Maybe he didn’t want to worry you. Or maybe he just needed time to process the idea before he made an announcement.”
“Why go to a medical conference if he planned to retire?”
“To see old friends, maybe. Who knows? Maybe that’s why he changed his mind and went to the lake instead.” Tom paused thoughtfully. “How well do you know Dr. Wingate?”
“I’ve met her a few times. She’s what my grandmother would have called a cold fish. Not exactly a desirable bedside manner in a family physician. Why do you ask?”
“I picked up a vibe when we talked. She seemed guarded and evasive. Did she and Dr. Nance ever have any trouble?”
“Not that I know of. What are you getting at?”
He swiveled his chair toward the window and glanced out at the street, taking a long moment to answer. “I just want to make sure we don’t overlook anything. Once a death is ruled an accident,
