button. “Dr. Pollock – there are two FBI agents here to see you. They say it’s about the car accident, but I’m not so sure.”
Amused by her paranoia, Foxx suppressed a chuckle. “I can assure you, there’s nothing to be concerned about. We’re just following protocol.”
“Protocol, my patootie! Since when does the FBI investigate a simple car accident?”
“A fair point, ma’am,” Beach offered. “- but when the victim is the head of a major federal correctional institution, we like to be sure there’s no foul play involved. I can absolutely guarantee you no one has escaped from Sherbourne. There’s no need for paranoia. Now, can we see the doctor, please?”
“Just ’cuz you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you,” she said, then turned her attention suddenly back to the phone in her hand. “Oh, I’m sorry, doctor. No, I’m not being silly! Yes, yes, I’ll send them into the examination room.” She glared at the agents. “Well, I guess you’d better follow me then.”
They followed her into a room detached from the doctor’s office. It appeared to be set up for minor medical procedures, but judging by the additional equipment, doubled as an autopsy room. A gurney was positioned in the center, with a white sheet draped over what was obviously the body of Dr. David Tinsley, former director of the Sherbourne Institute.
“The doctor should be with you shortly. Please don’t touch anything. And don’t take too long – we’ve got a lot of patients to get through today.”
Beach was not amused by the woman’s disrespect, but replied politely. “We won’t touch anything – and I promise not to be a second longer than precisely how long it takes.”
She left the room with a glare of mistrust, pulling the door shut behind her. Foxx gave Beach a playful punch on the shoulder. “Lighten up, partner – that was comedy, right there.”
Beach merely shrugged as the door burst open, revealing a middle-aged man with a snowy beard, and warm smile. “I must apologize for Miss Cosban’s demeanor,” he said, extending his hand. “She really isn’t suited to small-town living. I think she’d do much better in an episode of Criminal Minds or Person of Interest. She’s one heck of an organizer though.”
“I’m sure she has her redeeming features,” Beach conceded.
“Makes a damned good coffee, too. You fellers want one?”
“I don’t think she’d appreciate our staying any longer than we must. Thanks for the offer, but if you don’t mind, we’d like to get straight to business.”
“Yup, she kinda scares me too. So, what can I do for you?”
“Have you examined Dr. Tinsley’s body yet?”
“Yup – dead on impact. Car versus oak, tree wins every time.”
“Was there anything suspicious on the body? Any unusual marks, alcohol, drugs, like that?”
“Well, it was eight o’clock in the morning, agent. David was a wine connoisseur, but I can’t imagine him drinking for breakfast. I’m willing to bet there’s no alcohol in his system. Can’t tell about drugs until I send the tox screen to the lab. As far as marks are concerned, best you have a look for yourselves, I reckon.”
He pulled the sheet away, revealing the brutalized remains. The body was caked with dried blood and dusted with white powder from his car’s airbags. “I haven’t had time to do the full autopsy yet. Figured there was no real rush – and I’ve got plenty of live ones waiting on me out there. I don’t think David will mind waiting. He was a pretty pragmatic guy.”
“You knew him well?”
“Not that well, but we’re – I should say we were – the only two doctors for miles, so we got to know each other. Decent feller – for a shrink.”
“He was a good man,” Beach agreed solemnly. “In your opinion, would he have had any kind of involvement with drugs?”
“You knew him too?”
“I met him about a year ago, but it was only one encounter.”
“Well, I
Amused by her paranoia, Foxx suppressed a chuckle. “I can assure you, there’s nothing to be concerned about. We’re just following protocol.”
“Protocol, my patootie! Since when does the FBI investigate a simple car accident?”
“A fair point, ma’am,” Beach offered. “- but when the victim is the head of a major federal correctional institution, we like to be sure there’s no foul play involved. I can absolutely guarantee you no one has escaped from Sherbourne. There’s no need for paranoia. Now, can we see the doctor, please?”
“Just ’cuz you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you,” she said, then turned her attention suddenly back to the phone in her hand. “Oh, I’m sorry, doctor. No, I’m not being silly! Yes, yes, I’ll send them into the examination room.” She glared at the agents. “Well, I guess you’d better follow me then.”
They followed her into a room detached from the doctor’s office. It appeared to be set up for minor medical procedures, but judging by the additional equipment, doubled as an autopsy room. A gurney was positioned in the center, with a white sheet draped over what was obviously the body of Dr. David Tinsley, former director of the Sherbourne Institute.
“The doctor should be with you shortly. Please don’t touch anything. And don’t take too long – we’ve got a lot of patients to get through today.”
Beach was not amused by the woman’s disrespect, but replied politely. “We won’t touch anything – and I promise not to be a second longer than precisely how long it takes.”
She left the room with a glare of mistrust, pulling the door shut behind her. Foxx gave Beach a playful punch on the shoulder. “Lighten up, partner – that was comedy, right there.”
Beach merely shrugged as the door burst open, revealing a middle-aged man with a snowy beard, and warm smile. “I must apologize for Miss Cosban’s demeanor,” he said, extending his hand. “She really isn’t suited to small-town living. I think she’d do much better in an episode of Criminal Minds or Person of Interest. She’s one heck of an organizer though.”
“I’m sure she has her redeeming features,” Beach conceded.
“Makes a damned good coffee, too. You fellers want one?”
“I don’t think she’d appreciate our staying any longer than we must. Thanks for the offer, but if you don’t mind, we’d like to get straight to business.”
“Yup, she kinda scares me too. So, what can I do for you?”
“Have you examined Dr. Tinsley’s body yet?”
“Yup – dead on impact. Car versus oak, tree wins every time.”
“Was there anything suspicious on the body? Any unusual marks, alcohol, drugs, like that?”
“Well, it was eight o’clock in the morning, agent. David was a wine connoisseur, but I can’t imagine him drinking for breakfast. I’m willing to bet there’s no alcohol in his system. Can’t tell about drugs until I send the tox screen to the lab. As far as marks are concerned, best you have a look for yourselves, I reckon.”
He pulled the sheet away, revealing the brutalized remains. The body was caked with dried blood and dusted with white powder from his car’s airbags. “I haven’t had time to do the full autopsy yet. Figured there was no real rush – and I’ve got plenty of live ones waiting on me out there. I don’t think David will mind waiting. He was a pretty pragmatic guy.”
“You knew him well?”
“Not that well, but we’re – I should say we were – the only two doctors for miles, so we got to know each other. Decent feller – for a shrink.”
“He was a good man,” Beach agreed solemnly. “In your opinion, would he have had any kind of involvement with drugs?”
“You knew him too?”
“I met him about a year ago, but it was only one encounter.”
“Well, I
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