“I don’t think she knows,” Chris said slowly. “I think she’s stunned and a bit overwhelmed.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to believe that someone she knows would do this to her.”

“No one wants to believe that sort of thing. But I don’t think Gianna’s the type to sugarcoat things. If she knew of someone threatening in her life, I think she’d immediately speak up.”

“Detective Sanchez?” Gianna called from down the hall.

The two men found her in a nook adjacent to her kitchen. She pointed at a small wooden side table that had a few glass figures and framed photos. “There’s a photo missing.”

“What’s it a picture of?” Chris asked.

“Violet and me.”

Sanchez pointed his pencil at the figurines. “Are those glass things valuable?”

“They’re crystal, not glass.”

“So, yes,” stated Sanchez. “But our thief was interested only in a family photo.”

Alarm shot through Chris. Even if Gianna had struggled to believe the break-in wasn’t personal, she had to believe now. The thief hadn’t just stolen information, he’d taken trophies for himself.

“I can’t stay here tonight.” Gianna shuddered as she stared at the empty spot. “I don’t know if I can ever sleep in this house again.”

Nora Hawes leaned against the wall of the autopsy suite, waiting for Dr. Rutledge to finish recording his notes. The stainless steel table in front of him held the burned remains of the man found in Gianna Trask’s rented cabin. The suite was clean and orderly. Empty silver tables were lined up in a row beyond Dr. Rutledge’s current work site. Sprayers that appeared to belong in a small car wash hung behind the four tables. A scale dangled over each station, waiting to weigh organs. Nora wondered what the room sounded like when several autopsies were occurring at once. Right now it was very quiet except for the low hum of fans and the doctor’s voice.

Autopsies didn’t bother her, but she didn’t have any desire to get up close and personal. Henry would rather pay for her Starbucks habit for a week than attend, so she’d made him a deal. He didn’t realize she would have done it without the offer of free coffee. He was a solid partner, but knowing he had a weak stomach gave her something to harass him about.

Gianna Trask and Chris Jacobs entered the suite, and Nora held her position in a shallow alcove as she studied the couple. Drew Sanchez from the Portland Police Department had briefly updated her with a phone call and told her the couple were on their way. She’d spent the last few minutes processing Sanchez’s findings. Especially the fact that all stolen items were personal and didn’t appear to have been taken for their value on the street. Someone had wanted very specific items from Gianna’s home.

But how does it tie to the deaths during the storm?

It was a big juicy riddle. She loved figuring out answers.

Especially with people as interesting as the two who’d just entered. She’d done her research last night. She’d noticed the scars on Chris’s neck and the side of his face yesterday, but hadn’t realized she was talking with a local legend. The boy who survived. He’d managed to stay out of the limelight for decades. Now Chris Jacobs had a new cause that was making him step forward.

Dr. Gianna Trask.

Chris had stood directly behind the petite medical examiner and scanned the room as if checking for hidden assassins; he’d spotted Nora within seconds, forcing her to step out of her lousy hiding spot and cross the floor to meet them. Gianna lifted one hand in greeting to Dr. Rutledge, who returned the wave but continued his monologue into the microphone over the burned remains, and then turned her attention to Nora. Gianna had a solid handshake.

“I hear you’ve had a busy day already,” said Nora after shaking hands with Chris.

“Sanchez said he would call you,” said Gianna. She glanced over at the work area, an eagerness in her gaze. “Was there identification on the body?”

She cuts to the chase.

“He didn’t have ID on him,” offered Nora. “I haven’t had a chance to ask Dr. Rutledge about his findings, but I believe he’s almost done.”

“Yes, he is,” Gianna said with confidence after a glance at Dr. Rutledge.

Nora figured Gianna experienced the same curiosity and desire for answers that she did when presented with a dead body. There was a reason the woman had become a forensic pathologist. The ones Nora had met all had a thirst for answers. Nora’s primary motivations usually centered around making the perpetrators pay for their crimes, but she loved uncovering the science and evidence that paved the path to the suspect. And the more unusual the case the better. This case had all her neurons firing. A fire, a medical examiner with some missing memory, a local legend, and an unknown assassin and victim.

Am I wrong to be fascinated?

Dr. Rutledge removed some of his protective gear and crossed the suite to the group. “I’m glad to hear you’re all right, Dr. Trask. I’m sorry your introduction to Oregon has started off on such a bad note.” He jerked his head back at the corpse. “Not what you want to discover in your home.”

Nora had dealt with Seth Rutledge several times and liked the sharp chief medical examiner. If she’d met him outside the ME’s office, she would never have guessed that he spent his days with death. He was simply enjoyable to be around, witty and pleasant.

Too bad he’s taken.