Near You (Montana Series #2) - Mary Burton Page 0,79

are due in two days. Also, no pictures of family or friends on the refrigerator. No pets. She had a quiet life.”

Bryce had seen seemingly average people killed, but more often than not, they had engaged in some kind of risky behavior that no one had been aware of. That did not appear to be the case for Edith Scott. “Not the kind of behavior that makes an attack more likely,” he said.

“No.” Joan studied the body with a detached distance learned when she worked homicide back in Philadelphia. “I spoke to her neighbor as I was leaving.” She checked her notepad. “A neighbor told me Ms. Scott was worried about Weston. She had been on the jury that convicted Weston of arson. Ms. Scott was mulling her legal options with her neighbor while they were at the mailboxes the other day.”

“Unless he made a direct threat,” Bryce said, “she had none.”

“That was their conclusion,” Joan said. She slid her notebook in her pocket and worked on a pair of clean gloves over the ones in place as she shifted closer to the instrument table.

Dr. Christopher focused on the body as Joan handed him the scalpel from the instrument table. He carefully pressed it against the skin and sliced a neat Y incision. Soon he had peeled the skin open, and Joan handed him bolt cutters. He snapped the rib cage and, after careful inspection, set it on a tray Joan held out for him.

Congealed blood pooled in the interior cavity, which had to be suctioned out. Next Dr. Christopher inspected the heart. “Two direct cuts to the heart. This wound, here,” he said, pointing, “severed the aorta. She would have bled out in a matter of minutes. The knife also cut into her lungs. Whoever did this was efficient and knew what they were doing.” He searched the interior cavity.

“How do you compare the stab wounds to the other two victims?” Bryce said.

“Wound patterns almost identical,” Dr. Christopher said.

“But Scott’s murder deviates from the pattern,” Gideon said.

“She also doesn’t fit the profile of the victims we have identified,” Bryce said. “We know three were Fireflies, and she certainly was not. Did you pull any hair or fiber samples from the body?”

“I didn’t find skin scrapings under her nails at the scene,” Joan said. “But I bagged her hands just in case.”

“If she scratched her killer, then that could be a tremendous break,” Bryce said.

“It’ll take weeks on the DNA,” Gideon said. “I’ve spoken to the lab, and they’re backed up.”

Dr. Christopher continued to examine each organ, and by the time he was finished, he confirmed the initial on-site conclusions were correct: Edith Scott had been stabbed to death in her own bed.

He also discovered several significant tumors in her liver. “Those pain and nausea meds Joan found line up with stage four liver cancer.”

As Bryce and Gideon left the autopsy suite, Gideon’s phone rang. “Detective Bailey.” He listened, nodding, and his expression appeared to soften a fraction. “We’ll be right there.” He looked at Bryce. “My uniformed officer found several personal surveillance cameras. He’s going through footage now.”

“If he finds anything, alert me,” Bryce said.

“Will do.”

Ann picked the boys up from soccer and arrived at her house. They tumbled out of the car and hurried up the walk until they saw Maura sitting on her front porch. She was scrolling through her phone, smiling as she seemed to note a post or message, before she rose. Beside her were several box deliveries for Ann.

“Sorry I’m late,” Ann said. “Crazy day.”

“No worries,” Maura said.

“Maura, you’ve met Nate, and this is my nephew, Kyle.”

The boys greeted her, and when she offered her hand, they each shook it. Ann moved past them, unlocked the door, and allowed the boys to scramble inside. Shoes off, backpacks stowed, they ran toward the kitchen for snacks Ann had stocked.

“They’re a hurricane,” Ann said.

Maura grinned as her bag slid from her shoulder to the floor. “Where do you want me to start?”

“It would be nice to get the shelves up and these boxes of books unpacked. I’ve assembled a shelf, but the others are stacked in the corner.”

“Assembly is also one of my talents. Get the boys situated, you get changed, and I’ll start in.”

“I’m not going to let you do this for free.” She was relieved to think that this chaos might actually get fixed.

“You won’t.”

“Mom, can we order pizza?” Nate shouted.

“Again?” Ann asked.

“Yes!” Nate said.

“If it’s the same pizza as last night’s, I’ll claim