Five Scarpetta Novels by Patricia Cornwell Page A

and afraid. In the bathroom I showered, then got a robe off a hook on the back of the door and found my slippers. Marino and my niece were dressed and in the kitchen when I finally appeared.
    â€œGood morning,” I announced as if Lucy and I had not seen each other this day.
    â€œYo. It’s good all right.” Marino looked as if he had been awake all night and was feeling hateful.
    I pulled out a chair and joined them at the small breakfast table. By now the sun was up, the snow on fire.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” I asked as my nerves tightened more.
    â€œYou remember those footprints out by the wall last night?” His face was boiled red.
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œWell, now we’ve got more of them.” He set down hiscoffee mug. “Only this time they’re out by our cars and were left by regular boots with a Vibram tread. And guess what, Doc?” he asked as I already feared what he was about to say. “The three of us ain’t going anywhere today until a tow truck gets here first.”
    I remained silent.
    â€œSomeone punctured our tires.” Lucy’s face was stone. “Every goddamn one of them. With some kind of wide blade, it looks to me. Maybe a big knife or machete.”
    â€œThe moral of the story is that it sure as hell wasn’t some misguided neighbor or night diver on your property,” he went on. “I think we’re talking about someone who had a mission. And when he got scared off, he came back or somebody else did.”
    I got up for coffee. “How long will it take to get our cars fixed?”
    â€œToday?” he said. “I don’t think it’s possible for you or Lucy to get your rides fixed today.”
    â€œIt’s got to be possible,” I matter-of-factly stated. “We have to get out of here, Marino. We need to see Eddings’ house. And right now it doesn’t seem all too safe in this one.”
    â€œI’d say that’s a fair assessment,” Lucy said.
    I moved close to the window over the sink and could plainly see our vehicles with tires that looked like black rubber puddles in the snow.
    â€œThey’re punctured on the sides versus the tread, and can’t be plugged,” Marino said.
    â€œThen what are we going to do?” I asked.
    â€œRichmond’s got reciprocal agreements with other police departments, and I’ve already talked to Virginia Beach. They’re on their way.”
    His car needed police tires and rims, while Lucy’s and mine needed Goodyears and Michelins because, unlikeMarino, we were here in our personal vehicles. I pointed all this out to him.
    â€œWe got a flatbed truck on the way for you,” he said as I sat back down. “Sometime during the next few hours they’ll load up your Benz and Lucy’s piece of shit and haul them into Bell Tire Service on Virginia Beach Boulevard.”
    â€œIt’s not a piece of shit,” Lucy said.
    â€œWhy the hell did you buy anything the color of parrot shit? That your Miami roots coming out, or what?”
    â€œNo, it’s my budget coming out. I got it for nine hundred dollars.”
    â€œWhat about in the meantime?” I asked. “You know they won’t take care of this speedily. It’s New Year’s Day.”
    â€œYou got that right,” he said. “And it’s pretty simple, Doc. If you’re going to Richmond, you’re riding with me.”
    â€œFine.” I wasn’t going to argue. “Then let’s get as much done now as we can so we can leave.”
    â€œStarting with your getting packed,” he said to me. “In my opinion, you should boogie right on out of here for good.”
    â€œI have no choice but to stay here until Dr. Mant returns from London.”
    Yet I packed as if I might not be coming back to his cottage during this life. Then we conducted the best forensic investigation we could on our own, for slashing tires