Blind Spot. Nancy Bush

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      Lang pushed through the door, feeling a little like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. He didn’t know what he was doing and what he would find, and it was an adventure he maybe should have reconsidered before embarking upon.

      He walked down a short hallway and then was in the squad room. Several sets of eyes turned to him, but most of the desks were empty. “Tanninger?” he asked, and was pointed toward a corner. He turned it just as a tall man in the tan uniform of the sheriff’s department appeared from an office.

      He stopped upon seeing Lang, and the two men sized each other up. Detective Will Tanninger—per his name tag—was one of those strong, silent types who observed more than talked. Lang thought about trying to bamboozle the man for about half a second, figured it wouldn’t work, said instead, “Detective Trey Curtis, my ex-partner at Portland P.D., wanted me to jump-start my stalled investigative engine by interesting me in one of your cases. The rest stop one. So, here I am, insinuating myself into your world. Feel free to kick my ass out of here.”

      Tanninger half-smiled. “The truth. Interesting approach.”

      “I came here to talk to the sheriff, but he’s not here. Dot at the desk suggested I meet with you.”

      “Sheriff Nunce planned to retire but no one wanted him to. He was reelected, but when he’s not around I’m the next man.”

      “Maybe that happens a lot?” Lang suggested.

      “Maybe it does.”

      “So, do you want some help, or am I wasting my time and yours?”

      “I know Trey Curtis. Of him, anyway. And Drano.”

      “You know Drano?”

      “We got a call from him, too. Wanted us to encourage you. Said you were a hell of an investigator. Sang your praises. Twisted our arms as hard as he could.”

      Lang said wryly, “I’m a charity case.”

      “According to them, you’re the man for the job, and if this case just so happens to kick you back into gear, everybody wins.”

      “Well…” He wasn’t sure what to think of that.

      Tanninger said, “If you’re as good as they say you are, jump in. Even if you’re not. We’re short-staffed right now. This damn flu has decimated us and Nunce is out sick.”

      Funny. Lang’s lie to the ME was turning out to be the truth. “How long’s he been out sick?”

      “A while. Maybe a while more.”

      “Vacation. Sick. And still one foot in retirement?”

      Tanninger shrugged and said instead, “One of our best took a bullet last year, and though she’s recovered, she’s about all we’ve got for this case. And she went home early with a cough.”

      “You’re not bullshitting me?”

      “What do you care if I am?”

      “I don’t know.”

      “There’s a lot of crime out there. We don’t have enough investigators on a good day for the type of attack that took place at the rest stop. No manpower. You want in, I’ll meet you all the way.”

      “What’s Drano got on you?” Lang asked.

      Tanninger laughed.

      “Can you give me the info on the guy who found them? The trucker?”

      “I’ll get you the file. We checked the license plate of the vehicle that was left on the scene. Stolen truck. It’s in the file, too.”

      “And the murder weapon, the knife, was found at the crime scene…? Anything there?”

      “No prints that count. Covered in blood and wiped on the grass. Tossed into the nearby bushes.”

      “He or she didn’t want to be caught with it.”

      Tanninger shrugged. “Maybe. But the doer had to be hit by the blood. There was a lot of it.”

      “They weren’t thinking straight.”

      “Not that kind of crime,” he agreed.

      Lang nodded. “Okay.”

      “Tomorrow I’m heading out to interview the other victim. The woman. If you want to join on, your timing’s perfect. Barb was going to head to Halo Valley Security this afternoon, but she’s out sick, so I’m teed up. Jane Doe hasn’t talked, hasn’t even comprehended what’s happened, as far as anyone can tell. It’s wait and see, but we try to keep a finger on the pulse…so?”

      Lang absorbed the news about an imminent trip to Halo Valley with mixed feelings. He could feel his pulse speed up. “Is Barb the one who got shot, or…?”

      Tanninger nodded. “She didn’t want to go home today. She’s hard to hold down, no matter what.”

      “No one’s got in touch about Jane Doe? Or the guy in the morgue?”

      “Not yet. Channel Seven’s doing a follow-up.”

      “Pauline Kirby?” Lang managed to keep from making a face. Just.

      “You don’t like her?”

      “Love her.”

      Tanninger laughed. “So, do you want to go to Halo Valley?”

      Did he really want to take a trip to that hospital? See that monstrous institution and know that Heyward Marsdon was in there, albeit behind the double-locked doors to the restricted half? Have a chance to maybe interview Dr. Claire Norris?

      He saw her in his mind’s eye. Quiet. Serious. Slim. Brunette. Maybe a ballbuster.

      Exhaling slowly, he nodded.

      Tanninger stuck out his hand. “Welcome to the team.”

      Claire took the three concrete steps that led to her back door, balancing two bags of groceries. She’d made a quick stop at the market, buying salad fixings and boneless chicken breasts. Once upon a time she’d prided herself on her original meals. But that was when she’d been married. Happily married. Or at least believed she was happily married. A long time ago.

      She dropped the bags onto her chipped Formica countertop. The rented bungalow was cute but tired. Its major selling feature was its view of the Pacific Ocean. Not a spectacular view; the homes dotting this hillside above the small hamlet of Deception Bay were built in the forties and fifties, anything but lavish, but they had charm.

      Her kitchen window faced north and she could see slices of the jetty past the laurel and camellia bushes that had nearly taken over this side of the house. She could also see Dinah’s cabin, smaller than hers, more of a Craftsman style, though its paint was peeling badly and the roof patches looked like acne, dotted across the whole of it.

      She put the chicken breasts СКАЧАТЬ