He avoided that. “You hid out until tonight when the search was called off. Now, nobody’s looking for you or your remains. So why’d you come back? Why’d you come to me? Why didn’t you just stay dead?”

It was a vicious thing to say and she reacted accordingly. But he let the question stand.

Finally she said softly, “I came back because I have unfinished business.”

“Yeah, I know about that. You’ve got a smooth operation going with Savich.” Reading her shock, he moved toward her in a measured tread. “I saw the pictures. The ones Napoli was using to blackmail you.”

“Blackmail me? What are you talking about? What pictures?”

The thought of hitting a woman was repugnant to him, but remembering the photographs with her and Savich raised the level of his frustration and brought him close to slapping her. At the very least giving her a hard shake to dislodge the phony perplexity in her expressive eyes.

He also wanted to touch her, to crush her against him and inhale the scent of rainwater coming off her, just to reassure himself that she was real and warm, not a figment of his cruel imagination, just to see if she felt as good against him as he remembered.

Duty and desire were warring again, and he hated her for it.

“I curse the day I first saw you,” he said, meaning it. “God damn you for dragging me into your scheme, whatever the hell it is. I wish to heaven-”

The telephone in his hand rang, startling them. They both looked at the instrument as it rang a second time.

“Don’t answer, Duncan. Please.”

“Shut up.”

Using the pistol, he motioned her to back away from him then raised the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

He listened for about thirty seconds, his gaze never wavering from her face. He ended the call by saying, “Sure. I’ll be right there.” Even after disconnecting, he held her stare.

Her chest rose and fell anxiously. She wet her lips. “What?”

“Earlier tonight a woman’s body was pulled out of the river,” he stated slowly. “Judge Laird has just identified it as you.”

Chapter 23

“SHE’S PRETTY MUCH A MESS.” DOTHAN BROOKS SPOKE IN A reverential undertone. “You know what a floater looks like, and she’s been in the water.” He looked Duncan up and down. “You’re not much drier than she is.”

His hair and clothes were wet. “I’d been out in the weather when I got the call. Didn’t want to take time to change.”

He’d reached the morgue as quickly as possible, having to first jog from his town house to the parking lot of Smitty’s to retrieve his car. He and the ME were standing a discreet distance from the judge, granting him time alone with the corpse on the gurney. The body was entirely covered by a sheet, save for the right hand, which the judge held clasped between his as he wept unabashedly.

The body had been discovered by a tugboat crew beneath a pier where the tugs docked. The Talmadge Bridge was well within sight.

“How come she didn’t surface sooner?” Duncan asked.

“Got hung up on something under the pier is my guess. Fish have had at her. She was a feeding ground. She finally shook loose of whatever was holding her down, and up she came.”

“If she looks that bad, how did he make the ID?”

“Birthmark. Lower abdomen, part of it under her pubic hair. Only a husband or lover would know about it. I told him we could wait on a positive ID until we obtained her dental records, but he insisted on looking at her. Nearly tossed his cookies when he saw her face, or lack thereof. Said no way was that his beautiful Elise.

“But then he saw that birthmark, and I’m here to tell you, he fell apart. Would have collapsed if I hadn’t caught him.” Dothan took a package of peanut M amp;M’s from his pants pocket and ripped it open. “Want some?”

“No, thanks. Any signs of her struggle with Napoli?”

Dothan chewed a handful of the candies, crunching them noisily between his teeth. “Not readily apparent, but they wouldn’t be, considering. I’ll take a closer look during the autopsy. But no bullet wounds or anything like that, if that’s what you mean.”

“Cause of death was drowning?”

“If so, there’ll be water in her lungs.”

“What was she wearing?”

Dothan motioned him over to a sterile table on which lay a wristwatch with a narrow leather strap and three articles of badly stained and sodden clothing. They were filthy, but recognizable. The ME said, “According to the judge the watch belonged to her and the clothes match what she was wearing the last time he saw her.”

“He should know. He bought them for her.”

Duncan left the ME with his snack and approached the gurney, moving to the left side of it so that he was facing Judge Laird across it. He pretended to be contemplating the still form beneath the sheet but actually he was studying Elise’s seemingly bereft husband.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, looked up, and nodded a greeting. “Detective.”

“Everyone working the case extends their condolences.”

“Thank you.”

Mentally he braced himself and lifted the top corner of the sheet. Dothan had understated the damage. His stomach lurched. The organic destruction to the features made them practically indistinguishable as such. However, one ear remained intact. He noted that it was pierced, but there was no earring in the hole. The hair was wet and matted with God knows how many varieties of river matter, but it was the approximate color and length of Elise’s. He lowered the sheet. “It must be very difficult for you to see her like this.”

The judge squeezed his eyes shut. “You have no idea how painful.”

“Are you sure it’s your wife?”

His eyes popped open and he looked at Duncan with reproach. “Of course.”

“I’m not trying to pick an argument with you, Judge. It’s just that people have made false identifications before. You wouldn’t be here if the situation wasn’t already traumatic. You come down here scared, emotionally and physically drained. Under those circumstances, mistakes have been made before.”

“There’s no mistake. Did Dr. Brooks tell you about the birthmark?”

“Yes.”

“I couldn’t possibly mistake that.”

“I’m sure. All the same, we’ll rely on dental records.”

“Of course. Whatever Dr. Brooks needs, I’ll make available to him tomorrow.” He gazed at the draped body. “I wish with all my heart that I was wrong. But it’s Elise.” He bent over the hand he was holding. It was a ghastly color, and Duncan knew it must be cold and repugnant to the touch. The judge kissed the back of it. As he straightened, he said, “In times of personal crisis, it’s very difficult to be a public official.”

“You’re in the spotlight even as you’re grieving,” Duncan said, following his thought.

“I understand there’s already press outside.”

“Your wife’s disappearance has been a big story. This is the final chapter.”

“I can’t cope with the media right now. Besides, I want to stay with Elise for as long as possible before turning her over to Dr. Brooks for the autopsy.” He voice cracked and he covered his eyes with his hand.

Duncan walked around the gurney and stood beside him. “I’m sure Dr. Brooks will give you all the time you want, Judge. And we’ll have officers outside to protect you from the press when you leave. Until you’re ready, let our department’s PIO deal with them.”

As he made to go, the judge detained him. “We got off to a rocky start, Detective Hatcher, and we’ve had some cross moments. But generally speaking, you’ve been extraordinarily sensitive to my distress during all this. I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you did for me and my wife.”

Duncan shook the hand extended to him, but as he looked into the judge’s tearful eyes, he was thinking, You wouldn’t appreciate everything I did for your wife, you lying, cocksucking son of a bitch.