Free Don't Go by Lisa Scottoline Page A

very helpful.”
    “Oh, I didn’t know.” Mike glanced over as they passed a podium with a padded guest book, next to a white pen molded to look like a quill.
    “We find we get better results and our families are generally pleased. Do you have any questions?”
    “Yes, a few.” Mike swallowed hard. “She was autopsied, correct?”
    “Yes.” Scott didn’t bat an eye. “But I think you’ll be pleased with her appearance, and it’s absolutely fine to have an open casket. You’ll see what I mean.”
    “Can I get the results of the autopsy?”
    “We don’t have the report, but I can make you a copy of the death certificate.”
    “Thank you. Is there a police report, too?”
    “There would be, for a fatality, but we don’t have a copy of that, either.”
    “I see.” They reached a landing and descended side-by-side, and Mike reached for the polished banister, suddenly weak in the knees. They reached the lower floor, which he realized was a euphemism for the basement.
    “Please, this way.” Scott walked him down a hallway lined with closed doors, stopped at the middle one, and gestured to a cushioned bench against the wall. “Please have a seat, and I’ll get that information you requested. This way, I won’t interrupt you, later. My office is on this level, and I won’t be a moment.” Scott glided off, and Mike tried to get his act together. He couldn’t believe he was sitting outside the room where Chloe lay, in a casket. He felt oddly as if he were waiting for her, a sensation that wasn’t unfamiliar.
    Are you ready yet? Mike was in the bedroom, switching off the TV. Chloe was in the bathroom finishing her makeup, but they were late for dinner with his partners.
    Chloe had come out finally. Well? How do I look?
    Her eyes were as blue as forget-me-nots, and a light tan tinted her fine nose and high cheekbones. Her face was the shape of a heart, and her lips smiled a Cupid’s bow, glossy pink. Her dark blonde hair hung wavy to her shoulders, and she had on her favorite white dress, which showed off slim, tan legs. She was the most naturally beautiful woman he had ever seen, like some wildflower.
    “Dr. Scanlon, here we are.” Scott reappeared and handed Mike an envelope. “Your wife’s death certificate is inside, and so is her cell phone. Your brother-in-law must have left it. Shall we go in now or would you like a moment?”
    “I’m ready,” Mike answered, though he was anything but.
    “Allow me.” Scott opened the door into a medium-sized room with the same blue rug and wallpaper, and a walnut credenza. “There’s a house phone and bottled water, for your convenience. I’ll check on you in twenty minutes, but if you finish sooner or need me, please pick up the phone. Any other questions?”
    “Yes.” Mike faced the credenza, because it was easier than facing the front of the room with Chloe’s casket. He still couldn’t look over at her body. “I know there was a knife wound. Can you give me some details?”
    “I think you’ll be pleased with the repair. You shouldn’t be able to see anything.”
    “I mean the details.” Mike wasn’t overly concerned with Chloe’s appearance, but Scott lifted an eyebrow.
    “Pardon me?”
    “How deep was the wound, how long was it, how did you repair it? I want to know everything, as much as possible.” Mike wanted to know what he could because there was so much he’d never know, like about the drinking. “Did you see any old injury on her head, by any chance?”
    “I don’t usually have a discussion like this with a surviving spouse, but if you feel it’s appropriate, I will.”
    “I do. Please, I’m a doctor.”
    Scott pursed his lips. “The knife wound was about a quarter-inch deep, but approximately five inches in length. We sutured it closed with a baseball stitch, sealed it with PERMASEAL, then added a layer of cotton web roll towel.”
    “Why do you do that, the towel?”
    Scott frowned, plainly uncomfortable. “To prevent