Bones on Ice: A Novella Read Free Page B

Hallis did not have a single intact tooth, she’d clearly be filed under “complicated.”
    The jaws were frozen in a half-open grimace. Grabbing a handheld magnifying lens, I adjusted the over-table light and peered in. I couldn’t see the entire dental arcade, but one thing struck me as strange. The damage appeared uniform from front to back, on both uppers and lowers. Every tooth was toast from the gum line up. The result of a deadly impact? Had she face-planted into a rock during mountain removal? Or was a three-year wait in an unforgiving climate that tough on teeth?
    Back to the computer. A Google search using the keywords “freezing” and “dentition” revealed that scientists could now harvest and cryo-preserve stem cells from extracted adult molars. Interesting. But not helpful. Too edgy to sit, I left research for another time.
    One potential source of information remained. Returning to the clipboard, I reviewed each piece of documentation more carefully. Every page was resplendent with official foreign stamps and indecipherable squiggles I took for Nepali. Tibetan? I had to look that up.
    Nothing in the file to enlighten me concerning Brighton Hallis’s last moments on earth.
    My eyes fell on a phone number with a familiar area code.
    Crap.
    I braced myself. Then I picked up the handset and dialed.

Chapter 3
    A man answered on the second ring. Deep baritone, full of smoke and grit. Or maybe the guy was working on a polyp.
    “Hallis residence.”
    “Mrs. Blythe Hallis, please. It’s Dr. Temperance Brennan calling.” Delivered with full Katherine Daessee Lee Brennan Daughters of Dixie charm. My mother is pure sugar and peaches on the phone. And I was trying to contact one of her tribe.
    “Please wait.” Husband? Jeeves the Butler? I couldn’t tell.
    I waited. Far too long for my already agitated nerves.
    “Dr. Brennan.” The voice was female. A fusion of cut crystal and Carolina honey. Yep. Mama’s folk. “I’ve been expecting you.”
    “Mrs. Hallis, I’m so very sorry about your daughter. We received the remains this morning.”
They are thawing as we speak
. I didn’t say that. “Unfortunately, the dentition is badly damaged, a fact that will complicate positive identification. I was hoping you might have access to additional medical records or X-rays.”
    “Of course. Five o’clock today is good for me. Raleigh will provide you with details. Casual, of course.”
    No asking after my convenience. My preference of time or location. My desire to meet at all. A directive, a presumption of compliance, and she was gone.
    A brief pause, then Raleigh was back on the line, dictating an address I knew to be in one of Charlotte’s most expensive zip codes. Still couldn’t slot the guy.
    I hung up, conflicted. While I detest taking orders, I do appreciate telephone brevity. I decided not to dwell. It was my current mantra. Don’t dwell on Ryan and his alarming proposal. Don’t dwell on Mama and her cancer. Don’t dwell on Katy and her deployment to Afghanistan.
    My watch read four-ten. Unbidden, a hand floated to my hair. I couldn’t see myself, but knew my hasty predawn topknot hadn’t improved through the course of the day. And I’d opted to go sans makeup. So be it.
    After rolling ME215-15 into the cooler, I hurried to the women’s staff lounge and changed from scrubs to the jeans and knit top I’d thrown on that morning. Following a thorough washing of face and hands, I tugged the elastic band from the remains of my do, gave my hair a quick brush, two fast twists, a snap of the binder, and I was ready to go.
    As I navigated my Mazda through the late afternoon sun, long strokes of light and shadow kicked across my windshield, flashing the city beyond like an old-timey moviereel.
Flick flick flick
. At first, small businesses and plants whose functions I couldn’t imagine. Then the shops, restaurants, and steel-and-glass skyscrapers of Trade and Tryon streets. Johnson & Wales University.