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knew she wanted to somehow comfort me, but I had never allowed that.
    "Well, make sure you change before you get back in it," she finally said.
    "Change what?"
    "Your clothes. Before you get back into your car," she said as if rd never dealt with a decomposed body before.
    "Thank you, Rose," I said.

Black Notice (1999)

3
    I set the burglar alarm and locked the house, turning on the light in the garage, where I opened a spacious locker built of cedar, with vents along the top and bottom. Inside were hiking boots, waders, heavy leather gloves and a Barbour coat with its special waterproofing that reminded me of wax.
    Out here I kept socks, long underwear, jumpsuits and other gear that would never see the inside of my house. Their end of tour landed them in the industrial-size stainless steel sink and washer and dryer not meant for my normal clothes.
    I tossed a jumpsuit, a pair of black leather Reeboks and an Office of Chief Medical Examiner, or OCME, baseball cap inside the trunk. I checked my large Halliburton aluminum scene case to make sure I had plenty of latex gloves, heavy-duty trash bags, disposable sheets, camera and film. I set out with a heavy heart ss Benton's words drifted through my mind again. I tried to block out his voice, his eyes and smile and the feel of his skin. I wanted to forget him and more than anything, I didn't.
    I turned on the radio as I followed the Downtown Expressway to 1-95, the Richmond skyline sparkling in the sun. I was slowing at the Lombardy Toll Plaza when my car phone rang. It was Marino.
    Thought I'd let you know I'm going to drop by," he said.
    A horn blared when I changed lanes and almost clipped a silver Toyota in my blind spot. The driver swooped around me, yelling obscenities I couldn't hear.
    "Go to hell," I angrily said in his wake.
    "What?" Marino said loudly in my ear.
    "Some goddamn idiot driver."
    "Oh, good. You ever heard of road rage, Doc?"
    "Yes, and I've come down with it"
    I took the Ninth Street exit, heading to my office, and let Rose know I was two minutes away. When I pulled into the parking lot, Fielding was waiting with the hard case and extension cord.
    "I don't guess the Suburban's back yet," I said.
    "Nope," he replied, loading the equipment in my trunk. "Gonna be something when you show up in this thing. I can just see all those dockworkers staring at this goodlooking blond woman in a black Mercedes. Maybe you should borrow my car."
    My bodybuilding deputy chief had just finalized a divorce and celebrated by trading in his Mustang for a red Corvette.
    "Actually, that's a good idea;" I dryly said. "If you don't mind. As long as it's a V-eight"
    Yeah, yeah. I hear ya. Call me if you need me. You know the way, right?"
    "I do."
    His directions led me south, and I was almost to Petersburg when I turned off and drove past the back of the Philip Morris manufacturing plant and over railroad tracks. The narrow road led me through a vacant land of weeds and woods that ended abruptly at a security checkpoint. I felt as if I were crossing the border into an unfriendly country. Beyond was a train yard and hundreds of boxcar-size orange containers stacked three and four high. A guard who took his job very seriously stepped outside his booth. I rolled down my window.
    "May I help you, ma'am?" he asked in a flat military tone.
    "I'm Dr. Kay Scarpetta," I replied.
    "And who are you here to see?"
    "I'm here because there's been a death," I explained. "I'm the medical examiner."
    I showed him my credentials. He took them from me and studied them carefully. I had a feeling he didn't know what a medical examiner was and wasn't about to ask.
    "So you're the chief," he said, handing the worn black wallet back to me. "The chief of what?"
    "I'm the chief medical examiner of Virginia," I replied. "The police are waiting for me."
    He stepped back inside his booth and got on the phone as my impatience grew. It seemed every time I needed to enter a secured area, I went through this. I