discussion about me. ‘Irving’s whole approach was subjective. He seemed too keen for the killer to be a repressed homosexual, something nice and sensational. I got the impression he was already planning his next paper.’
Tom gave a laugh. ‘More likely his next book. He made the bestseller charts a couple of years ago, and since then he’s been a head for hire for any TV company that’ll pay his fees. The man’s a shameless self-promoter, but in fairness he has had some good results.’
‘And I bet they’re the only ones anyone hears about.’
Tom’s glasses caught the reflection from the headlights as he gave me a sideways glance. ‘You sound very cynical these days.’
‘I’m just tired. Don’t pay any attention.’
Tom turned back to the road. I could almost feel the question coming. ‘This is none of my business, but what happened with the girl you were seeing? Jenny, wasn’t it? I haven’t wanted to mention it before, but…’
‘It’s over.’
The words seemed to have an awful finality to them, one that still didn’t seem to apply to me and Jenny.
‘Because of what happened to you?’
‘That was part of it.’ That and other things. Because you put your work first. Because you were nearly killed. Because she didn’t want to sit at home any more, wondering if it was going to happen again.
‘I’m sorry,’ Tom said.
I nodded, staring dead ahead. So am I.
The indicator clicked as he turned off on to another road. This one seemed even darker than the last.
‘So how long have you had a heart problem?’ I asked.
Tom said nothing for a second, then gave a snort. ‘I keep forgetting about that damn medical background of yours.’
‘What is it, angina?’
‘So they say. But I’m fine, it’s not serious.’
It had looked serious enough to me that afternoon. I thought about all the other times I’d seen him having to stop to catch his breath since I’d arrived. I should have realized sooner. If I hadn’t been so wrapped up in my own problems perhaps I would.
‘You should be taking it easy, not trekking up hillsides,’ I told him.
‘I’m not about to start babying myself,’ he said irritably. ‘I’m on medication, it’s under control.’
I didn’t believe him, but I knew when to back off. We drove in silence for a while, both of us aware of things left unsaid. The inside of the station wagon was lit up as another car came up behind us, its headlights dazzlingly bright.
‘So how do you feel about lending me a hand with the examination tomorrow?’ Tom asked.
The body was going to be taken to the morgue at UT Medical Center in Knoxville. As a visual ID was out of the question, trying to identify the body was a priority. The Forensic Anthropology Center had its own lab facilities —bizarrely based at Neyland sports stadium in Knoxville—but they were more often used for research rather than actual homicide investigations. The TBI also had its own facilities in Nashville, but the UTMC morgue was more convenient in this instance. Normally, I would have jumped at the opportunity to help Tom, but now I hesitated.
‘I’m not sure I’m up to it.’
‘Bullshit,’ Tom said, uncharacteristically blunt. He gave a sigh. ‘Look, David, you’ve had a tough time lately, I know that. But you came over here to get back on your feet, and I can’t think of a better way to do it.’
‘What about Gardner?’ I hedged.
‘Dan’s a little prickly with people he doesn’t know sometimes, but he appreciates talent as much as anyone. Besides, I don’t have to ask his permission to get someone to help me. I’d normally use one of my students, but I’d rather have you there. Unless you don’t want to work with me, of course.’
I didn’t know what I wanted, but I could hardly turn him down. ‘If you’re sure, then thanks.’
Satisfied, he turned his attention back to the road ahead. Suddenly, the inside of the car was flooded with light as the car behind us closed the gap. Tom squinted as its headlights dazzled him in the rearview mirror. They were only a few feet away, high and bright enough to suggest they belonged to either a pick-up or a small truck.
Tom clicked his tongue in annoyance. ‘What the hell’s this idiot doing?’
He slowed, pulling over to the side of the road to let the other car pass. But its headlights slowed as well, remaining right behind us.
‘Fine, you’ve had your chance,’ Tom muttered, speeding up again.
The headlights kept pace with us, staying just behind the station wagon. I twisted round, trying to see what was following us. But the glare rendered everything through the rear window invisible, prevented me from making anything out.
With a screech of rubber, the headlights abruptly swerved to the left. I caught a glimpse of a high-bodied pick-up, its windows black mirrors as it tore past with a throaty roar. The station wagon was rocked by its slipstream and then it was gone, its rear lights quickly disappearing into the darkness.
‘Damn redneck,’ Tom muttered.
He reached for the CD player, and the mellow tones of Chet Baker accompanied us back to civilization.
CHAPTER 4
TOM DROPPED ME OFF at the hospital where I’d left my car. We arranged to meet first thing next morning at the morgue, and after he’d gone I gratefully drove back to my hotel. All I wanted to do was have a shower, get something to eat and then try to sleep.
Which was pretty much what I’d done almost every night so far.
I was on my way up to my room before I remembered I’d agreed to go out that evening. I checked the time and saw I’d less than half an hour before Paul was due to pick me up.
I sank down on to the bed with a groan. I felt less like company than ever. I was out of the habit of socializing, and the last thing I was in the mood for was making polite conversation with strangers. I was tempted to call Paul and make some excuse, except I couldn’t think of one. Besides, it would be churlish to turn down their hospitality.
Come on, Hunter, make an effort. God forbid you should enjoy yourself. Reluctantly, I pushed myself off the bed. There was just enough time for a shower if I hurried, so I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the cubicle, turning the jet on full. The scar on my stomach looked alien and strange, as if it wasn’t really a part of me. Even though the ugly line of pink flesh wasn’t tender any more, I still didn’t like touching it. In time I supposed I’d become used to its presence, but I wasn’t yet.
I turned my face up to the stinging spray, taking deep breaths of the steam-filled air to dispel the sudden rush of memory. The knife handle protruding from below my ribs, the hot, sticky feel of blood pooling around me on the black and white tiles… I shook my head like a dog, trying to cast out the unwanted images. I’d been lucky. Grace Strachan was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever known. She was also the most dangerous, responsible for the deaths of at least half a dozen people. If Jenny hadn’t found me in time I’d have added to that tally, and while I knew I should be grateful to be alive, I was finding it hard to put it behind me.
Especially since Grace was still out there.
The police had assured me that it was only a matter of time before she was found, that she was too unstable to remain free for long. But Grace had been a rich woman, consumed by a passion for vengeance that was as irrational as it was deadly. She wasn’t going to give herself away that easily. Nor was I her only target. She’d already tried to kill a young mother and daughter once, and only been prevented at the cost of another life. Since Grace’s attack on me, Ellen and Anna McLeod had been living under police protection and an assumed name. While they’d prove harder to track down than a forensic scientist who was listed in the phone book, the truth was that none of us would be safe until Grace was caught.
That wasn’t an easy thing to live with. Not when I bore the scars to remind me how close she’d come
