The Dying Room by Debra Webb

me.”
    He growled as he brushed kisses along her cheek. “My pleasure.”
    He moved the body pillow aside and started a slow, lingering path down her throat. Jess closed her eyes and allowed the sweet sensations to chase away all thoughts of victims and suspects and murder.
    Her time with Dan was far too precious to take for granted... even for work.

 

Chapter 9
    Jefferson County Coroner’s Office
    Tuesday, March 31, 10:30 a.m.
    “The external examination of Jane Doe is complete,” Sylvia announced for the audio recording of the autopsy. She sighed and surveyed the deceased once more before taking the next step. The elderly woman’s body was discovered in Railroad Park one week ago. Her autopsy had been delayed by the two recent homicides, which included Judge Rutledge’s.
    Sylvia prepared to make the Y incision. Based on the external examination, she felt reasonably confident the woman had died of natural causes. However, the bump on the right side of her head as well as a bruise on her right forearm combined with her unattended death dictated the need for an autopsy.
    The door behind Sylvia opened. “Dr. Baron?”
    “Yes?” Sylvia snapped. The staff knew very well that she was not to be interrupted when performing an autopsy. She scowled at Tammy Lang, the receptionist, who dared to do so anyway.
    “I’m sorry to bother you, but he says it’s an emergency.”
    Sylvia placed the scalpel back on the table and removed the splatter guard and facemask. “He who?”
    If her boss had called an emergency staff meeting, then he could fill her in later. Sylvia didn’t bow to his or anyone else’s demands in the middle of an autopsy. Or any other time for that matter. Dr. Martin Leeds was well aware of her rules.
    “Mr. Corlew.” Tammy shrugged. “He’s waiting in your office. I told him you couldn’t be disturbed, but he said he wasn’t leaving until he spoke with you. Should I call security?”
    Dear God. “No, that won’t be necessary.” Sylvia removed her gloves and squared her shoulders. “Thank you, Tammy.”
    Tammy nodded, her expression reflecting her confusion and curiosity. Far too wise to ask questions, she hurried away, the door closing quietly behind her.
    Sylvia removed her disposable lab coat and left the autopsy room. On the way to her office she considered the various options for putting Corlew in his place. Obviously, he intended to have answers to his intrusive questions and had decided to throw his weight around to get them.
    Well, she hoped whatever he had to say was worth it because she felt like pinning him on a cold steel table in an autopsy room and ripping open his torso from shoulders to pelvis. She had taken a huge risk sharing her secret with him. If he made her regret that decision he would absolutely wish he’d chosen otherwise.
    Buddy stood behind her desk studying the diplomas and awards on the wall. She walked in and closed the door, the sound drawing his attention to her. For four of five seconds she only stared at him. Not once in her life had she been so enamored by a man so... rough around the edges.
    He wore his usual fare. An unbuttoned shirt, he hadn’t bothered to tuck into those well-worn, body-hugging jeans, exposed a skintight gray tee. Then there were those battered and somehow immensely sexy cowboy boots. But it was the long hair—longer than hers—that set him so far apart from any other man she’d ever had dinner with much less mind-blowing sex.
    “I don’t know what you pay your secretary,” he said as he stepped away from her desk, “but you should give her a raise. She’s a bulldog.”
    To regain some physical as well as emotional distance, Sylvia moved past him to stand behind her chair. Even putting both the chair and the desk between them failed to provide an effective buffer. “I was in the middle of an autopsy. Why are you here?”
    He picked up the framed photograph from her desk. The picture of her with her sister was more than a decade