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until you have what I’m paying you to find.”
    For three seconds that lapsed into five he merely stared at her. “Whatever you want.”
    And then he was gone. Sylvia passed a shaky hand over her face. Okay.
Pull yourself together
. She gathered the scattered papers and tidied her desk. When her respiration had evened out, she smoothed her palms over the skirt of her dress and headed to the ladies room.
    This wasn’t the first time she’d had sex in her office. There had been a couple of other incidents. This was, however, the first time she wasn’t in control. Buddy Corlew made her lose control. No other man had ever been able to make that happen.
    Ten minutes later, she was back in the autopsy room wearing gloves, splatter shield, facemask, and lab coat ready to continue. She stared at the elderly woman who had died alone in that park.
    She didn’t want to die alone. She didn’t want to continue proving what people said about her behind her back. She wasn’t entirely self-sufficient or completely heartless as they accused. She had feelings and needs. She wanted things...
    She wanted to spend more time with the living than with the dead.

 

Chapter 10
    Birmingham Police Department,
    Special Problems Unit, 11:15 a.m.
    Jess tapped the photo of Reed Summers, the brother of the last prisoner to be executed under Rutledge’s authority. “Let’s question him again. He’s the only one whose alibi we haven’t been able to confirm.”
    “Even if we find the prostitute he claims he took home with him, can we rely one way or the other on her testimony?” Lori joined Jess at the case board.
    Jess shrugged. “Frankly, I don’t think we’ve interviewed our killer yet.” Jess surveyed the row of faces, male and female. The list of close family and friends whose loved ones were sentenced to death by Judge Rutledge had been now narrowed down to a mere dozen. Yet, not one of those appeared to have sufficient motive in Jess’s opinion. The sister of the bomber had moved to Florida to live with her daughter. She hadn’t even realized Rutledge was dead much less murdered.
    “I’m not feeling it either,” Lori agreed.
    Detective Chad Cook rose from his desk and swaggered over to join them. Jess smiled inside as she noted the limp he’d struggled with was almost gone now. The young man had worked hard to come back from almost dying at the hands of one of Eric Spears’s followers.
    “We’re not even close.” He braced his hands on his narrow hips and shook his head. “We’re missing something by looking only at the people who had reason to hate the judge. What if the killer was expecting something he didn’t get? Maybe the judge promised a ruling he didn’t deliver and all this stuff about those he gave the death sentence is just smoke and mirrors.”
    The smile Jess had kept to herself slid across her lips now. “Very good, Detective.”
    Cook blushed. “I mean, the killer could be trying to throw us off his trail.”
    “His son was thousands of miles away at the time of the murder.” Lori moved to the photo of the son.
    “He could easily have hired someone to off his old man,” Cook suggested.
    “He could have,” Lori agreed. “But, according to the family attorney, a half million dollar insurance policy goes to the grandson and all property and other assets go to the son. It’s a fairly large estate but still not much of a motive for killing the judge considering Harvey is quite wealthy in his own right.”
    And there they were, back at square one without the necessary trinity: motive, means and opportunity. Jess hoped Sergeant Harper and Lieutenant Hayes gleaned something more from their interviews with the dozen remaining persons who had loved ones sentenced to death by Rutledge.
    Jess reviewed the board once more. “Since the housekeeper and everyone else we’ve interviewed claim the judge had no friends, why don’t we take a different route this afternoon? Let’s make a list of his closest