missing-person reports.
She flicked a sideways glance at him. “Reading in the car doesn’t make you carsick?”
He didn’t look up. “No.”
Nerves jumping in her gut, she rubbed her palm along the steering wheel. “Find anything?”
“No.”
“Did you contact the rental company yet?”
“No.” On a harsh sigh, he lifted his head and smacked the folder shut.
Slowing as they came into Doerun and the speed limit dropped, she slanted a look at him. He regarded her with barely concealed annoyance, and she shrugged. “What?”
“I’m trying to read but you obviously want to have a conversation. You tell me what.”
“What makes you think I want to have a conversation with you, of all people?” She braked for a stop sign.
“Experience.” Irony lurked in his tone, a private joke she didn’t get. Irritation spiked in her.
“All I did was ask questions about a shared case, Calvert.” She waited for a semi to rumble past before turning right onto the Moultrie highway.
“Sure and—” A Gary Allan tune rent the air, and he tugged his cell from his belt. “Calvert. On my way to Moultrie, why? Um, yeah—” He rotated his wrist to look at his watch. “I can probably do that. Call me first before you head out though. Later, man.”
An indefinable surety that Ash was on the other end of the connection shivered over her. She blinked, hard. She’d made a mess of that this morning, as well.
What a surprise.
“I’ll call the real estate office when we get back.” Tick clipped his phone into place. “I’m really hoping Ford can narrow the timeline down for us.”
“You said that yesterday.”
He glowered, mouth closed in a taut line. Just like Ash. What was it with them? They couldn’t call a bitch a bitch when she was right in front of them?
His audible exhale filled the tense space. “You know, when I was at the Miller Court house last night, I was thinking it would be strange for that body to be decomposing and nobody smell anything. If Ford can’t give us a timeline, talking to the people who live around there, or who have lived there in the past, might turn up a lead.”
The semi slowed for a left-hand turn and she braked. “You went back last night? What for?”
“Allison called. She needed some of her kid’s stuff.”
Yeah. Sure she did. Madeline shook her head. Men were so dense.
The two-lane rural highway opened up into four lanes as they approached the Moultrie bypass. Gosh, now this area had changed for real. Where there’d been one lone gas station and a couple of fast food joints, there were now hotels and swankier, trendy restaurants, joined by a small technical college.
The small brick building that housed the GBI crime lab sat next to the sprawling Colquitt County Jail. A brisk wind tossed stray leaves across the parking lot, and as they exited the car, Madeline pulled her blazer tighter. Hell, she hated cold weather, especially the damp chill of a southwest Georgia winter. She should have brought her scarf and gloves.
Inside the cool autopsy lab, two medical examiners—one male, one female—worked over stainless steel tables. Tick jerked his chin at the male agent bent over an elderly man’s nude body and crossed to the second table, where the female agent had their skeletal remains laid out.
“Morning, Ford.” He motioned in Madeline’s direction and made quick introductions. Ford was petite, her small frame swamped in green scrubs, her mask and head cover leaving only her vivid blue eyes visible, sparkling with intelligence and good humor. “Can you tell us anything yet?”
His voice sounded funny, emerging strained and hoarse. Madeline glanced at him, curious. He’d covered his nose and mouth with one hand, and his skin had taken on a definite pasty tone. Humor spurted through her. The high and mighty Tick Calvert couldn’t handle an autopsy lab. It was too good to believe.
Ford gestured at the bones. “Caucasian female, fifteen to eighteen. Never had
She flicked a sideways glance at him. “Reading in the car doesn’t make you carsick?”
He didn’t look up. “No.”
Nerves jumping in her gut, she rubbed her palm along the steering wheel. “Find anything?”
“No.”
“Did you contact the rental company yet?”
“No.” On a harsh sigh, he lifted his head and smacked the folder shut.
Slowing as they came into Doerun and the speed limit dropped, she slanted a look at him. He regarded her with barely concealed annoyance, and she shrugged. “What?”
“I’m trying to read but you obviously want to have a conversation. You tell me what.”
“What makes you think I want to have a conversation with you, of all people?” She braked for a stop sign.
“Experience.” Irony lurked in his tone, a private joke she didn’t get. Irritation spiked in her.
“All I did was ask questions about a shared case, Calvert.” She waited for a semi to rumble past before turning right onto the Moultrie highway.
“Sure and—” A Gary Allan tune rent the air, and he tugged his cell from his belt. “Calvert. On my way to Moultrie, why? Um, yeah—” He rotated his wrist to look at his watch. “I can probably do that. Call me first before you head out though. Later, man.”
An indefinable surety that Ash was on the other end of the connection shivered over her. She blinked, hard. She’d made a mess of that this morning, as well.
What a surprise.
“I’ll call the real estate office when we get back.” Tick clipped his phone into place. “I’m really hoping Ford can narrow the timeline down for us.”
“You said that yesterday.”
He glowered, mouth closed in a taut line. Just like Ash. What was it with them? They couldn’t call a bitch a bitch when she was right in front of them?
His audible exhale filled the tense space. “You know, when I was at the Miller Court house last night, I was thinking it would be strange for that body to be decomposing and nobody smell anything. If Ford can’t give us a timeline, talking to the people who live around there, or who have lived there in the past, might turn up a lead.”
The semi slowed for a left-hand turn and she braked. “You went back last night? What for?”
“Allison called. She needed some of her kid’s stuff.”
Yeah. Sure she did. Madeline shook her head. Men were so dense.
The two-lane rural highway opened up into four lanes as they approached the Moultrie bypass. Gosh, now this area had changed for real. Where there’d been one lone gas station and a couple of fast food joints, there were now hotels and swankier, trendy restaurants, joined by a small technical college.
The small brick building that housed the GBI crime lab sat next to the sprawling Colquitt County Jail. A brisk wind tossed stray leaves across the parking lot, and as they exited the car, Madeline pulled her blazer tighter. Hell, she hated cold weather, especially the damp chill of a southwest Georgia winter. She should have brought her scarf and gloves.
Inside the cool autopsy lab, two medical examiners—one male, one female—worked over stainless steel tables. Tick jerked his chin at the male agent bent over an elderly man’s nude body and crossed to the second table, where the female agent had their skeletal remains laid out.
“Morning, Ford.” He motioned in Madeline’s direction and made quick introductions. Ford was petite, her small frame swamped in green scrubs, her mask and head cover leaving only her vivid blue eyes visible, sparkling with intelligence and good humor. “Can you tell us anything yet?”
His voice sounded funny, emerging strained and hoarse. Madeline glanced at him, curious. He’d covered his nose and mouth with one hand, and his skin had taken on a definite pasty tone. Humor spurted through her. The high and mighty Tick Calvert couldn’t handle an autopsy lab. It was too good to believe.
Ford gestured at the bones. “Caucasian female, fifteen to eighteen. Never had
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