Muffled footsteps in the hallway—heavier than Franklin’s secretary’s—approached. Over breakfast, Pete had mentioned stopping by after his meeting with the DA. Zoe looked toward the door, eager to see her fiancé.
But it was Wayne Baronick who appeared. “Hey there, Chief,” he said, flashing his biggest smile.
“It’s Madam Coroner to you. Pete’s the Chief.”
Wayne entered the office, pausing to study the display shelves holding a variety of urns and guest books. “I understand why Franklin works out of here. He’s a funeral director. But you really need to get your own office someplace a little more…upbeat.”
“Like over in the morgue?”
“That’s your only other choice?”
“If I expect the county to pay for it.” The cost of the classes Pennsylvania required her to take for this new job had already added to the debt she’d gone into making repairs on her rundown farmhouse and planning a wedding. The rest of her paycheck went toward feed and care for her horse and two cats. She and Pete only half joked when they said they’d be living on peanut butter sandwiches and Ramen noodles once they married.
Wayne crossed to the desk and took a seat. “I hear they have a spare broom closet in the hospital they might rent you for cheap.”
“I’ll look into it.” She clicked the computer’s mouse to bring up a different screen. “What case are you here about? Gina Wagner?”
“No.” He scowled. “Who?”
“The autopsy I did this morning.” Zoe gave him a quick rundown of the mysterious death.
“Doesn’t sound like a criminal case.”
“Doesn’t sound like natural causes either.”
“I’ll check with whoever worked the scene. If anything suspicious comes back from toxicology, let me know.”
“What case then?”
“Elizabeth Landis.”
The name wasn’t on Zoe’s computer list of recent autopsies. “The woman whose husband killed her? Pete told me a judge overturned the conviction.”
“The DA has me and Pete investigating her homicide.”
The Landis murder was one of those cases Pete never wanted to talk about. “I don’t know how I can help. I wasn’t on duty the night it happened. And I wasn’t working with the coroner’s office yet.”
“Where’s Franklin? He’s the one I came to see.”
“Across the street.”
“At the morgue?”
“In the hospital.” She told Wayne about the excitement in autopsy earlier.
“Is he gonna be all right?”
“From the heart attack? He should be. But he still has kidney failure to contend with.”
“How about his paperwork on the case?”
Zoe typed in a search for old files and found the one labeled Landis. “Got it.” She clicked print and studied the report and notes on the screen while waiting for the printer to kick out the pages.
Raised voices drifted down the hallway. Most notably, Franklin’s secretary shouting, “You can’t go back there.”
A tall dark-haired woman with a face hard and sharp enough to cut glass charged into the office and pulled up short. She looked from Wayne to Zoe. “Who are you and what are you doing in Frank’s office?”
Frank? This had to be…
“Loretta?” Zoe rose and circled the desk, extending her hand. “I’m Zoe Chambers. I’m the one who called you earlier.”
The woman’s dark eyes lowered to Zoe’s hand then rose to her eyes. “Yes. I’m Loretta Marshall,” she said without reaching toward her.
Paulette, Franklin’s secretary, appeared in the doorway. “I am so sorry. I tried to keep her out.”
Loretta wheeled. “You have no right to stop me from going anywhere in this building. Check the deed. My name’s on it too.”
Zoe wondered if that was true. From the look on Paulette’s face, she had the same question.
“Now get back to your desk and leave me alone or you’ll be out of a job.”
Paulette stood taller, her posture saying, go ahead and try. With a glance at Zoe, she turned and marched away.
Loretta brought her focus back to Zoe. “This is my husband’s office. You shouldn’t be here.” Before Zoe could respond, Loretta swung toward Wayne. “And who are you?”
“Detective Wayne Baronick, Monongahela County Police Department, ma’am.”
She didn’t shake his hand either. “A cop? Good. Get this woman—” She pointed at Zoe. “—out of my husband’s office.”
If Loretta Marshall’s dark hair had been half white, Zoe would’ve warned her friends who owned Dalmatians. “This may be Franklin’s office, but he’s put me in charge while he’s incapacitated. As chief deputy coroner, I’m here taking care of official business.”
“This is a funeral home,” Loretta said. As if Zoe didn’t know.
Wayne crossed his arms. “I was just saying the same thing. Zoe needs to find a place of her own. Something less…depressing.”
His faux serious expression forced Zoe to conceal a smile.
Loretta, however, didn’t know him well enough to spot his sarcasm. “I wouldn’t call it depressing. I bought that desk. But yes, she needs to conduct her business, official or otherwise, elsewhere.”
“It’s not my business. It’s Franklin’s.” To reinforce her stance, Zoe returned to the desk and reclaimed her seat. “Is there something I can help you with?”
Loretta looked to Wayne for backup. There was no mistaking his serious expression was genuine this time. He had no intention of doing her bidding. She huffed. Scanned the room. Pressing her lips into an inverted “U,” she lifted her chin. “No.” Casting one last evil eye at Zoe, Loretta strutted out.
Zoe waited. Listened. Once the front door slammed, she exhaled.
Wayne sank into his chair. “Wow. Franklin’s married to that?”
“Was. They’re divorced. As I understand it, they have been for a long time.”
“And yet, she shows up now.” Wayne rubbed his chin. “She didn’t expect anyone to be in here. Makes you wonder what she planned to do.”
Zoe jotted a reminder to herself. Ask Paulette to have the office locks changed.
Clad in prison orange, Dustin Landis had aged twenty years in the eight since Pete had last seen him. Pete might’ve felt sorry for him, except that aging wasn’t an option for the man’s wife.
Pete found Landis and his attorney waiting in a
