LITMIR.BIZ

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of philosophy in psychology,” Audrey told him. “I’m a mental health therapist.”

      “Audrey is Mary Nell Scott’s counselor,” Tam explained. “She came here with Jill Scott’s family because Mrs. Scott is one of her patients.”

      “Damn,” Garth grumbled under his breath.

      “Is it your professional opinion that Mrs. Scott can handle seeing her daughter’s corpse?” J.D. asked, his gaze intensely focused on Audrey

      “It’s my opinion that seeing her daughter’s body—if indeed that’s Jill”—she nodded toward the body bag—“will harm her less than not knowing.”

      Audrey glared at J.D. Cass. Admittedly, she found him attractive. Who wouldn’t? He was about six-three, broad shouldered, and extremely masculine, although not classically handsome. But for some reason, he irritated her. Maybe it was because of the almost condescending way he’d said, “You’re not an M.D.” Or it could be because she sensed that he found her lacking in one way or another?

      And that bothers you, doesn’t it?

      Damn right it did. After all, she was reasonably attractive, some even said pretty. She was highly intelligent and well educated and possessed more than competent social graces. Who was he to look down his imperfect nose at her?

      “Let’s get this over with,” Pete Tipton said. “Bring the parents over and let them ID the body.” He motioned to his assistants.

      “Thank you.” Audrey focused on the ME, offering him a genuine smile.

      “I’ll tell the Scotts.” By the time the statement left her lips, Tam was in motion.

      Garth received a phone call, excused himself, and left Audrey and the TBI agent standing side by side. Usually quite adept at conversation, even idle chitchat when necessary, Audrey suddenly found herself unnaturally silent.

      Sensing the TBI agent looking at her, she turned back around and faced him. “Is there something you wanted to say, Special Agent Cass?”

      With a sly smile curving his lips, the man shrugged. “No, ma’am, Dr. Sherrod.”

      “Here they come,” Pete Tipton said as the Scott family approached. “No matter how many times I’ve done this, it doesn’t get any easier.”

      Tam escorted the Scotts, Charlie with his arm around Mary Nell, and Mindy following her parents.

      “May we see her, please?” Charlie asked.

      Tipton nodded. Tam led the family to where the ME’s assistants held the body bag. Tipton unzipped the bag, removed the small, protective bag covering the victim’s head, and stepped back to allow the family an unobstructed view.

      Mary Nell gasped and then burst into tears as she crumpled right before their eyes. Weeping uncontrollably, she doubled over in pain. Charlie held her, his arms circling her waist, supporting her twisted body. Mindy stood silent and alone a few feet behind her parents. She had turned an ash gray, her glazed eyes overflowing with tears.

      Charlie pulled Mary Nell up and into his arms. He looked Peter Tipton right in the eye. “It’s our daughter. It’s Jill.”

      Tam and her husband Marcus, an engineer with the Tennessee Valley Authority in Chattanooga, met Audrey and her current boyfriend, Porter Bryant, for dinner that evening. Audrey and Tam arrived late, less than two minutes apart, so they paused outside J. Alexander’s for a quick chat before entering the upscale restaurant on Hamilton Place Boulevard. Neither had changed clothes from earlier that day. Tam still wore black slacks, a lightweight camel blazer, and sensible but stylish one-inch pumps. She had discarded her shoulder holster, something she had forgotten to do a few weeks ago when the foursome had met for dinner. Of course, it had been her first week as a detective.

      How Tam could look so good with practically no makeup at the age of thirty-four, Audrey would never know. Maybe it was her flawless golden brown skin or her large, luminous, dark chocolate eyes and thick black lashes.

      Although Audrey hadn’t taken time to change from her tailored navy pin-striped slacks and matching jacket into something more femininely casual, she had added fresh blush and lipstick, which she kept in her handbag. She had almost phoned Porter and canceled, but a girl had to eat, and what better company could she find tonight than three good friends? The last thing she wanted to do after a day like today was go home to an empty house. She kept thinking about getting a pet, a cat or a dog or even a goldfish. She thought about it, but never did it.

      “You look beat,” Tam said. “Have you been with the Scotts all this time?”

      She nodded. “Yes, I stayed and talked to Charlie and Mindy after Dr. Jarnigan’s nurse practitioner came by and gave Mary Beth an injection. A strong sedative. And I helped Charlie deal with countless phone calls and an endless parade of family and friends who came and went all afternoon. Their priest is there with them, as well as Charlie’s sister and her husband and several cousins.”

      “It’s been a difficult day all around,” Tam said. “I left your uncle Garth at headquarters. No wonder he’s been divorced four times. What woman would put up with a man married to his job?”

      “Every missing persons case is personal for him.”

      “Because of Blake,” Tam said. “Garth is a dedicated policeman for the same reason you’re a dedicated counselor. You both want to help people in pain.”

      Although Audrey managed to go days, often weeks, without thinking very much about Blake, any missing persons case stirred up old memories. And when she was personally involved in the case, a counselor to someone with a missing family member, she occasionally still had nightmares, decades-old nightmares, about her little brother Blake’s disappearance. The two-year-old had been abducted twenty-five years ago and was still missing. Missing and presumed dead.

      “I know you can’t talk about evidence and all that,” Audrey said. “But can you tell me one thing—do y’all think that whoever kidnapped and killed Jill Scott is the same person who abducted Debra Gregory?”

      “Possibly. It’s common knowledge that the two women are both in their mid-twenties, both average height and weight, both white females, both brunettes with long dark hair. The Chattanooga Times Free Press ran their photographs side by side on the front page this morning. At the mayor’s insistence, I’m sure. Did you see it?”

      “I saw it. And before you ask, yes, I thought there was a resemblance.”

      “Enough of a resemblance that they could pass for sisters,” Tam said. “Debra Gregory looks more like Jill than her own sister Mindy does.”

      “But the CPD is downplaying the resemblance, aren’t they? The fact that the women resembled each other wasn’t mentioned in the press conference.”

      “We don’t want to panic all the young, dark-haired women in Hamilton County who fit the same description. Not when we can’t be a hundred percent sure the two cases are connected. Debra hasn’t been missing twenty-four hours.”

      “Then why bring in the TBI?” Audrey asked.

      “They’re not officially involved. Not yet.” Tam forced a smile. “We’d better find our dates. We’re already twenty minutes late. Marcus has called me twice since he arrived.”

      As they entered the restaurant, Audrey asked, “How well do you know Special Agent Cass?”

      Tam spoke to the hostess, who offered to show them to their table.

      “I never met him before today,” Tam replied. “Why do you ask?”

      “No reason. Just curious.”

      “There they are.” Tam waved at Marcus and Porter, who were seated in a booth halfway across the restaurant. “FYI—the DA called in the TBI. We did not request assistance.”

      “He seems like the type who’d expect to take

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