John Doe by Tess Gerritsen

CHAPTER ONE
    Dr. Maura Isles did not enjoy cocktail parties. Circulating in a room filled with strangers was her idea of an excruciating evening, yet here she was, glass of champagne in hand, standing beneath Tyrannosaurus rex . Dinosaur bones did not expect her to smile and come up with small talk, something Maura was singularly bad at. Sheltered in the undemanding company of T. rex , she read the informational plaque for the tenth time, glad that for once she wasn’t competing with the hordes of children who always gathered at the feet of dinosaurs. Tonight was an adults-only affair, a formal reception to thank the donors to Boston’s Museum of Science, and as a member of the benefit committee, Maura could hardly slip away before the speeches started. She smiled stoically and sipped champagne as men in tuxedos and women in evening gowns glided past, chatting and crowd-hopping with an ease that Maura had never acquired.
    “You and T. rex seem awfully chummy,” a male voice said.
    Maura turned to see an attractive dark-haired man smiling at her. Although she was wearing four-inch high heels, he was taller than her, fit and trim in a well-tailored tuxedo. She glanced at his name tag and saw his name was Eli Kilgour. The gold dot pasted above his name told her Mr. Kilgour was a high-level donor to the museum.
    “I see you’re on the benefit committee,” he said, reading her name tag, just as she had read his. “Excellent event tonight, Dr. Isles.”
    She smiled back. “I can’t take any credit. All I did was write a check and lend my name to the cause.” She shook his hand. “Thank you for your generous donation to the museum. We need to get every kid in town fired up about science.”
    “And that title Doctor I see in front of your name,” he said, pointing to her tag. “Would that be MD or PhD?”
    “MD. I’m a forensic pathologist. And you?”
    He gave a modest shrug. “Nothing nearly as impressive. I suppose my full-time job is supporting causes that matter to me.”
    Which explained the gold dot on his name tag. He didn’t have an occupation because he obviously had money.
    “And which causes do matter to you?” she asked.
    “Inspiring young scientists, for one. Which is why we’re both here tonight, wearing our dancing shoes.”
    “Dancing?” She winced. “More like limping. These are my two-hour shoes.”
    He looked down at her high heels. “What happens after two hours?”
    “Either I kick them off, or someone has to carry me home.”
    “Both prospects sound pretty exciting.”
    She laughed, surprised to find herself flirting with an attractive stranger, and she quickly confirmed that he wore no wedding ring. The evening had turned interesting: The champagne tasted more delicious, and a pleasant warmth flushed her cheeks.
    “So are you alone here tonight?” he asked, glancing around the room, searching for her escort.
    “Yes. Here to do my civic duty.”
    “And is there a Mr. Dr. Isles?”
    She sighed. “Unfortunately, no. You?”
    “Unless you count my mother, there is no Mrs. Kilgour. Which turns out to be a good thing tonight, because I can enjoy a guilt-free chat with a beautiful woman in a stunning gown.”
    “That,” she said with a smile, “sounds like a line you’ve used before.”
    “But tonight I actually mean it.” He looked down at her empty champagne glass. “Let me refill that for you. If you promise not to disappear.”
    She handed him the glass. “Thanks for saving me the pain of hobbling to the bar.”
    “Back in a flash. Tell T. rex to behave himself.”
    Off he went with her champagne glass, striding with the confidence of a man who knew his way among the tuxedoed crowd. Just as she lost sight of him, the PA system hummed to life.
    “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! I’m George Gilman, chairman of the benefit committee. I’m delighted to see so many people here who care about this museum and all the ways it enriches our city, inspires our children, and