The body lay on the floor in the cramped office. Blood had soaked through his clothes and pooled on the linoleum. Nikki knelt and began her preliminary examination while Tom looked on. First, she checked to see if Bowman wore a watch. If damaged in a scuffle or fall, a stopped timepiece could give an accurate time of death. He wasn’t, so she went on to the next step, measuring the wounds as she pointed out to Billy Navarro where and how to shoot the necessary photos.
“Looks like a 9mm,” Nikki said. “Close range.” She glanced around. “No sign of a struggle. He was shot in the chest, so he must have seen his killer. Probably knew him, too. Who called it in?”
“A guy came out here looking for a carburetor for a ’68 Impala. Said he had an appointment. When he got here, the dogs were raising all kinds of hell, but they were penned up, so he didn’t pay them much mind. Said he hollered for Bowman and then went into the office to look for him. That’s when he saw the body.”
“What time was this?”
“Right around two in the afternoon.”
Nikki nodded. “Going by the body temp, I’d say he was shot sometime early this morning, but I can give you a better estimate once we get him back to the lab.”
She glanced around, taking in the cramped, cluttered space and allowing herself to think about the unthinkable for one split second. Where was Adam? Had he come back out here to search the office? Would the police find his fingerprints all over the desk and possibly the body?
Crazy to even have such thoughts. She shook herself and went back to work, collecting samples and directing Navarro’s photography.
Meanwhile, Tom Brannon had opened one of the desk drawers. “Take a look at this.”
Nikki didn’t know if he meant her, Billy Navarro or the crime scene personnel who were busy collecting trace evidence. She got up and went to have a look. There were several envelopes inside, all stuffed with cash.
“He didn’t get this selling old carburetors,” Tom said. “Doesn’t look like robbery was a motive. A drug deal gone bad, most likely.”
“Or possibly he was into the blackmail business,” Nikki said.
Tom glanced up. “You know something I don’t?”
“Yes, and you’re not going to like it.”
ADAM WAS ON his way back from Dallas when he got the call from Nikki on his new phone. He pulled off the freeway and called her back. She sounded upset.
“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”
“I had some business to take care of in Dallas.” He’d picked up his mail at the apartment, checked in with his lieutenant. He’d even called Dr. Cassidy to schedule a session. Time to start thinking about getting his life back in order. All those loose ends had kept him tethered to the past. “I’m on my way back to Belle Pointe now.”
“What were you doing in Dallas? Never mind. That’s none of my business and we’ve more pressing matters at the moment.” She paused to draw a breath. “I’ve just come from the salvage yard. Eddie Bowman was found dead this afternoon.”
Adam was glad he’d pulled over. “What happened?”
“He was shot twice in the chest at close range. I’m at the lab now. I’ll be here for a few more hours.”
“Are there any suspects?”
She hesitated. “I told Tom Brannon about your run-in yesterday with Bowman. I had to. I also told him everything else we’ve discovered. It’s all conjecture at this point, but he needed to know.”
“You did the right thing. Call me when you’re leaving the lab. We’ll meet and figure out where to go from here.”
“Tom will want to talk to you.”
“I’ll go straight to the station as soon as I get to town.” He paused. “Nikki? Be careful. Somebody may be tying up loose ends. We need to figure this thing out before the body count rises in Belle Point.”
BY THE TIME Adam finished at the station with Sheriff Brannon, twilight had fallen. He called to check in with Nikki. She was still at the lab and would be for another hour or so. He drove back out to the lake and sat down at his grandmother’s kitchen table to go through the bag of mail his super had collected from his overflowing mailbox.
He sorted through the usual flyers and bills until he came to a large, thick envelope marked Private and Confidential. The postmark was from more than a week ago. Probably arrived a day or two after he’d left for Belle Pointe. He used his pocketknife to slice the packing tape and then carefully removed a book from the wrapper. It was an old edition of The Talented Mr. Ripley. Adam had no idea what the significance of the title was, but he had no doubt the book had been sent by Dr. Nance.
He leafed through the pages and then carefully examined the binding. Sure enough, a tiny rolled note had been pushed up through an opening in the spine. He fished out the note, which contained two words: Oak Lane.
IT WAS DARK by the time Nikki left the lab. She was bone-deep tired and wanted nothing more than to go home, crawl between the sheets and sleep until sunrise. She thought about calling Adam to let him know she was on her way, but she decided to wait and call him from home. Traffic was still a little heavy in places and she needed to stay focused on the road.
A few miles from Belle Pointe, she began to suspect someone was following her. The headlights had stayed a consistent distance
