Life in Death by Harlow Drake

technician rolled the body to the side and looked through the pant pockets, where they located a wallet. The doctor handed it to Cobb.
    “Jefferson Winton. Nice to meet you."
    ***
    As soon as Nicolet got back to the office, he looked into Kari Marchant’s background. He needed to know more about her, not just for the sake of the case, but for his own sanity. Could she be a murderer? Cobb had a point. He couldn’t ignore she knew all three victims. He had to take the blinders off when it came to her.
    Kari Marchant, born on August 15, 1973 in Denver to Paul and Sonora Monroe. Sonora Monroe, mother, still alive and in Denver. Paul Monroe, father, deceased. Nicolet reviewed the father’s death certificate. One word stood out at him: Homicide. His body had been found in the trunk of a Black 1975 Buick Electra 225. The hair on the back of his neck rose. Winton was found in the same type of car.
    Coincidence? Nicolet read further and discovered Mr. Monroe had quite a lengthy criminal record with various charges for assault and battery and concealed weapon charges. Her father had a registered gun, a 1975 Walther pistol, which was an odd choice for a gun, even back then.
    They never recovered the father’s gun.
    He’d have ballistics run the bullet that killed Jefferson Winton.
    His lady love could be a wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing.

CHAPTER 13
    “Can you come to my office at three today?” Kari recognized Nicolet’s voice, even over the phone, but he sounded different. Cold, distant, businesslike. She didn’t like it.
    She looked at her watch, 2:15. He hadn’t given her much notice. “Yes… But why do you want to see me?”
    She hoped he’d say he missed her or that he wanted to see her pretty face, but deep down, she knew that wasn’t the case.
    “I want to show you something.”
    She didn’t like the sound of that. “What?”
    “You’ll see when you get down here.” He hung up.
    She found Nicolet at his desk. She knew from his tone this visit wouldn’t be a good one. “Follow me.” His eyes flashed anger at her.
    What did I do?
    She followed him inside the elevator. No words were exchanged between them. The elevator doors opened to a sign posted on the wall. Morgue. Her heart skipped a beat.
    Oh, no. Someone else has died.
    “Why am I here?” She worked to keep her voice as calm as she could.
    “You’ll see shortly.”
    They walked to the end of the hall and stopped in front of a curtained glass window. He tapped on the glass, and the curtains were pulled back. A body lay on a metal slab covered with a sheet.
    “I still don’t understand why I’m here.”
    He signaled to the technician to pull the sheet back.
    Jefferson.
    Kari gasped.
    “You know who this is?” This wasn’t a question. He already knew the answer.
    “It’s Jefferson Winton.”
    His gaze bore down on her. “Have you been in contact with him lately?”
    “No, I haven’t seen him in years.”
    “That’s not what I asked you.”
    Her shoulders tensed.
    “Have you been in contact with him?”
    “I said no.” She fought the urge to look at Jefferson’s body again on the stainless steel slab. “What is this?”
    “Then why’d we find a letter from you in his jacket pocket?”
    The words hung in the air. The letter…
    He looked at her, poker-faced, which told her he’d read the letter. Good God . With the events of the past few days, the letter slipped her mind.
    “You’re quite an accomplished liar.” He turned on his heels and headed back toward the elevator.
    She followed, her heart in her throat. Her legs felt more and more rubbery with each step she took.
    He held the elevator open until she entered and then pressed the first floor button.
    “Can I leave now?” She couldn’t take any more of his surprises.
    “Not yet.”
    He led her out of the elevator and down the hall to an empty conference room.
    “Have a seat.” He motioned toward the chair to his left, then sat across from her. “Why don’t you