Free Picture Me Dead by Heather Graham Page A

by one serial killer who in reality were killed by someone else entirely.”
    Jake arched a brow to him.
    â€œHey,” Gannet said with a grin. “You learn more about autopsies every year, and I learn about cop work.” He was quiet again for a moment, eyes on the victim. When he spoke again, his tone was serious and flat. “Like I said, I’ll get right on it. You can meet me at the morgue. Hey, I heard you’re moving your houseboat.”
    â€œI moved it. Yesterday.”
    Gannet was watching him carefully. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. A change of scenery is always good.”
    â€œIt’s still the same old boat,” Jake said dryly.
    â€œStill…a new marina. You wake up to a different view.”
    â€œYeah.” He didn’t say more. He had the feeling that Gannet—like others around him—believed he’d shared more than a patrol car with Nancy, so, a change of pace now was a good thing. Even if it had been almost five years since Nancy’s death.
    He could have said something, he supposed, could have come to his own defense, though he wasn’t being attacked, he knew.
    And he had no need to excuse or defend himself to anyone. The inquest had cleared him—as far as that night went, anyway. The general and even logical consensus had been that Nancy, feeling desperate over the disintegration of her marriage and the pressures of her job, had just gone wild for a night. She’d met someone, done some drinking, popped a few pills…and found her way into the canal. But there was one factor he and Brian had in common—they’d both known Nancy well. The year after her death, even with the breakup of Bordon’s cult, had been a bitch for Jake. He’d been like a dog with a bone, determined to connect the two. He’d come close to crossing the line between investigation and harassment, and he’d been called on it. He’d resented his time with the police psychiatrist, though it was common practice for cops to receive such counseling after the death of a partner. He’d realized after a while that he would have to take a step back. Outwardly, he’d become a practical and methodical cop again, following the rules as closely as he could.
    But he’d never changed his mind about the truth of the situation. Or his determination to see it come out one day.
    â€œI’d like to live on the water,” Gannet said. “Maybe one day.”
    â€œYou should come by on a Sunday sometime. I keep a little motorboat, as well. Fishing is good for the soul.”
    â€œYeah, I’d like that.” Gannet grimaced. “Maybe my wife will let me come.”
    â€œBring her.”
    â€œShe’s not big on beer.”
    â€œWe’ll get her a bottle of wine.”
    â€œI’ll take you up on it, one way or the other, soon enough,” Gannet assured him.
    â€œDr. Gannet, Detective Dilessio?”
    Jake turned. Mandy Nightingale was back. “Are you ready to move the body and let me get the rest of the scene?”
    â€œI’m good to go, Mandy,” Gannet said.
    â€œJake?” she inquired.
    He nodded. “If Gannet’s ready, so am I.”
    â€œGood. You should know then, Jake,” she said softly, “that they’re holding back a slew of reporters over there.”
    â€œWant me to handle them?” Marty asked Jake.
    Jake shook his head. “No, it’s all right. Get some of our men started on a door-to-door. I know the doors are pretty far apart around here, but someone might have seen something. I’ll take care of the press.”
    â€œAre you sure? I saw your eyes. It’s all coming back, and you took the entire thing way too personally before—”
    â€œMartin, I’m all right. We’re talking about something that happened five years ago. I’m a cop, this is my job. Just keep an eye on things here, Marty. We can’t let anything, not the