Free Body of Lies by Iris Johansen Page A

door and looked around. “My mum always said if you want to get along in the world, you have to do unto others as they do unto you.”
    “That’s not quite the way the quote goes.”
    “Makes more sense Mum’s way.” He went onto the balcony and looked out over the bayou. “Seems okay. You rest. I’ll just check the bathroom and the downstairs, and then cook you a light lunch.”
    “I’m not an invalid. I’ll do it.”
    “Are you trying to eliminate my job? How can I be the queen’s chief poison taster if you do everything yourself?” He headed for the door. “By the way, I moved into the bedroom next door. I checked and I can hear practically everything that happens in this room through those paper-thin walls. I hope you don’t snore. . . .”
    Eve heard him running down the steps a few minutes later. She gave one more glance at the church before leaving the balcony. It was difficult to pull her gaze away. She supposed it was natural the ancient structure would command attention, and it was the last thing she’d seen when she’d thought she was going to die. That had guaranteed it would capture her imagination.
    Eve forced herself to turn and go back into the bedroom. That wide expanse of bed was very tempting. It was ridiculous to be this sore and tired. She’d thought when she left the hospital that she’d spring back much sooner. She should ignore the tiredness and hit the shower. She’d be okay once she got going.
    Well, maybe just a short nap . . .
    “The shoes were made by the Norton Shoe Company.” Carol Dunn tossed the report on Joe’s desk. “It’s a southeast company with branches in Alabama and Louisiana. Size nine.”
    “Distribution?” Joe asked.
    She shook her head. “Pretty heavy in both states, and to a lesser degree here in Georgia. With this kind of flimsy sole, they’re not a high-ticket item so they sell pretty well.”
    “That’s just great.” He frowned. “What about the tire tracks?”
    “Firestone Affinity HP fifteen-inch. Standard on the new Saturn L-three hundred.”
    “Thanks, Carol.” Joe scanned the report. “I owe you.”
    “You owe yourself a good night’s sleep,” she said. “Jane called and told me to send you home early.”
    “I’m going.” He stood up and started for the door. “Will you call and tell her I’m bringing home Chinese, but I have to make one more stop on the way?”
    “Coward.”
    “Right. She’s tough.” He glanced back over his shoulder. “Did I get a return call from George Capel when I was out today?”
    Carol shook her head. “Don’t you trust voice mail?”
    “I’m an old-fashioned guy. I don’t believe in these newfangled gadgets.”
    “And you were hoping it wasn’t working.”
    “He hasn’t shown up at the DNA lab for a week. I went to his house—the mail is piling up and he didn’t stop delivery of the newspaper.”
    “Doesn’t sound good, but he could have taken off on a little jaunt. It’s happened before.”
    “Yeah, I know. But I think it’s time I talked to his neighbors.”
    “Okay, I’ll call Jane,” Carol said. “But you’d better not forget the Chinese.”
    Joe nodded and waved as he left the office. He called Logan when he reached his car. “Have you heard from Galen?”
    “He won’t report to me unless he has reason. He runs his own show.”
    “So you don’t know if she’s okay.”
    “We’d have heard if there was a problem. Galen’s with her.”
    And Joe wasn’t with her and it was driving him crazy. “Can you ask him to give regular reports?”
    “Galen doesn’t operate that way.”
    “Then he should, dammit.”
    “You asked for Galen, Quinn.”
    Because he was the best, but that didn’t mean Galen’s independence didn’t annoy the hell out of him. He wanted to
know
.
    “How are things going with you?” Logan asked.
    “Okay. I’m keeping busy.” Not busy enough. Three days had seemed like three hundred since Eve left. “I’m trying to track down Capel. He