hate for it to become our business.’
Jones nodded reluctantly. ‘I’ll suggest she does that.’
‘Thank you,’ Stevie said. ‘You have a good day.’
As soon as they got to the car, Stevie was back on the phone, dialing the university. After a few transfers she got their answer and flipped her phone closed. ‘Russell Bennett graduated from University of Maryland’s medical school.’
‘A plastic surgeon who went to Maryland. He could be our vic.’ JD started the car. ‘But if we get there and he’s still alive, what’s Plan B? If he goofed and switched implants, he could get into trouble. He’s going to be cagey about answering questions.’
‘Yeah, I know.’ Stevie pulled down her visor mirror and studied her reflection. ‘You think I have enough wrinkles to make Bennett believe I’m there for a consult?’
JD choked on a laugh. ‘I think I’m taking the Fifth on that one.’
‘Probably a wise move on your part.’ She peeked down her blouse, then looked over at him with a grin. ‘Let’s throw in a boob job. That he’ll believe.’
He had to grin back. Stevie’s smile was infectious. ‘What’s my role?’
‘You’re my spouse. Rich, indulgent, and dissatisfied with my lack of curves.’
JD sobered abruptly. ‘Paul wasn’t dissatisfied with a single thing about you.’
Her smile faltered. ‘I know. I was lucky.’
‘Anyone who knew him was.’ There weren’t many who’d met Paul Mazzetti who hadn’t counted him a friend.
Except for the punk who’d killed him. Paul had been shot down in cold blood for being in the wrong place, wrong time and having the nerve to disobey a convenience store robber’s commands in order to protect his child. A pregnant Stevie had buried her husband and son, and it was only the knowledge that the child she carried needed her that helped her go on. Five year old Cordelia never met her father.
Stevie had persevered, using the tragedy to help others. The grief support groups she sponsored for cops changed lives. Including mine . JD owed Stevie one hell of a lot. Maybe his very life.
Stevie’s lips tipped up sadly. ‘Let’s go meet Dr Bennett, unless we already have.’
He was about to pull away from the curb when his cell buzzed. ‘Fitzpatrick.’
‘Detective, this is Lucy Trask.’
Reflex had him sitting straighter in his seat. ‘Yes, Dr Trask. What do you have?’
‘I think the victim was flash frozen. Are you familiar with that?’
‘Like they do to vegetables?’ he asked. ‘Flash frozen,’ he said to Stevie.
‘Exactly,’ Trask said. ‘The freezer would have to be huge – industrial-sized. If I were you, I’d start with food packaging plants.’
JD relayed the information to Stevie who was already on her laptop, searching for local food packaging facilities. ‘That has to be helpful,’ he said to Trask. ‘Oh, and we’ve just left Christopher Jones.’
‘You mean his house?’
‘That, too. He was there, in the cheek-implanted flesh. He was very annoyed to find we thought him dead.’
‘But . . . that doesn’t make sense, Detective.’
‘It does if the surgeon goofed,’ he said. ‘The surgeon’s name is Russell Bennett.’ JD heard the sharp intake of her breath, then silence. ‘Dr Trask?’
‘Bennett? Russell Bennett? Are you sure?’
He frowned. ‘Yes, we’re sure. Why?’
‘Him, I know,’ she murmured.
Chapter Four
Monday, May 3, 11.00 A.M.
L ucy fumbled as she hung up the phone, unable to look away from the mutilated body on her exam table. JD Fitzpatrick’s voice still echoed in her ears. Russell Bennett.
Russell Bennett. No, it’s not possible.
But it was. He was about the right age, height and weight. He’d gone to Maryland’s med school. She remembered seeing the diploma on the wall of his living room. It was entirely possible. ‘Oh my God,’ she whispered.
It was impossible to see Russ’s face in the obscene mass of blunt trauma that lay before her. Still she stared, trying to
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