Kay Scarpetta Series. Volume 7. CAUSE of DEATH. Patricia Cornwell

“When was the last time she went by?”

“I don’t know,” she said, and I could tell she was getting weary of questions. “Some time before Christmas, I suspect, because she’s had the flu.”

“Did Corian ever mention to you what is in his house?”

“I guess you mean his guns,” she said. “Just another something he started to collect a year or so back. That’s all he wanted for his birthdays gift certificate for one of those gun stores around here. As if a woman would dare walk into such a place.”

It was pointless to probe further, for she had the single desire for her son to be alive.

Beyond that, any activity or inquiry was simply an invasion she was determined to sidestep. At close to ten, I headed home, and almost slipped twice on vacant streets where it was too dark to see. The night was bitterly cold and filled with sharp wet sounds as ice coated trees and glazed the ground.

I felt discouraged because it did not seem anyone knew Eddings beyond what he had been like on the surface or in the past. I had learned he had collected coins and butterflies and had always been charming. He was an ambitious reporter with a limited attention span, and I thought how odd it was that I should be walking through his old neighborhood in such weather to talk about this man. I wondered what he would think could I tell him, and I felt very sad.

I did not want to chat with anyone when I walked into my house, but went straight to my room. I was warming my hands with hot water and washing my face when Lucy appeared in the doorway. I knew instantly that she was in one of her moods.

“Did you get enough to eat?” I looked at her in the mirror over the sink.

“I never get enough to eat,” she irritably replied.

“Someone named Danny from your Norfolk office called.

He said the answering service was contacted about our cars.

For a moment my mind went blank. Then I remembered.

“I gave the towing service the office number.” I dried my face with a towel. “So I guess the answering service reached Danny at home.”

“Whatever. He wants you to call.” She stared at me in the mirror as if I had done something wrong.

“What is it?” I stared back.

“I’ve just got to get out of here.”

“I’ll try to get the cars here tomorrow,” I said, stung.

I walked out of the bathroom, and she followed.

“I need to get back to UVA.”

“Of course you do, Lucy,” I said.

“You don’t understand. I’ve got so much to do.”

“I didn’t realize your independent study or whatever it is had already started.” I walked into the gathering room and headed for the bar.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s started. I’ve got a lot to set up.

And I don’t understand how you’re going to get the cars

1 here. Maybe Marino can take me to get mine.”

“Marino is very busy and, my plan is simple,” I said.

“Danny will drive my car to Richmond and he has a reliable friend who will drive your Suburban. Then Danny and his friend will take the bus back to Norfolk.”

“What time?” -That’s the only snag. I can’t permit Danny to do any of this until after hours, because he can’t deliver my personal car on state time.” I was opening a bottle of Chardonnay.

“Shit,” Lucy impatiently said. “So I won’t have transportation tomorrow, either?”

“I’m afraid neither of us will,” I said.

“And what are you going to do, then?”

I handed her a glass of wine. “I’ll be going into my office and probably spending a lot of time on the phone.

Anything you might be able to do at the field office here?”

She shrugged. “I know a couple people who went through the Academy with me.”

At the very least she could find another agent to take her to the gym so she could work off her ugly mood, I started to say, but held my tongue.

“I don’t want wine.” She set the glass down on the bar.

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