Discretion Read Free Page B

navigated through the outer layer of police personnel. The closer they got to the center, the quieter the people were. There was an open space in the middle of the crowd, like the eye of a hurricane. Anna wended her way into it.
    A woman lay on her side on the white marble terrace, her arms splayed one way, legs bent the other. A pool of dark blood spread under her blond hair. Her ivory skirt was hiked above her waist, revealing ivory garters. Ivory lace panties were bunched around her right knee. The panties had been ripped off her left leg and hung in tatters. The way her knees were angled, her bottom was bared to the onlookers. Anna wished she could cover the woman with a blanket.
    “They have to wait for the medicolegal investigator,” Jack said quietly. “They can’t move the body until she’s been pronounced dead.”
    Anna nodded. On the woman’s neck hung a delicate white-gold necklace with the name Sasha scrolled in cursive. Odd, Anna thought. One of the few facts Carla had been able to tell her was that the victim had checked in to the Capitol with a Georgetown student ID under the name of Caroline McBride.
    The young woman’s face was turned to the side. She had alabaster skin and the finely carved profile of a Greek statue. She was about the same age, hair color, and build as Anna’s little sister, Jody. Or Anna herself.
    Anna looked up at the balcony from which the woman had fallen. A Metropolitan Police Department officer was standing on it, looking down at the woman’s body. A few feet from Anna, an MPD crime-scene technician was taking photos of something glimmering near the woman’s head. A grayish-red dollop. Anna gagged and turned away, realizing it was a piece of the woman’s brain.
    She’d handled some gruesome cases: injuries inflicted with razor blades, bullets, boiling oil. Sex offenses committed on the most vulnerable victims. But this was the first time she’d seen a murder victim at the scene. The muggy night seemed to press down on her; she felt unbearably hot and claustrophobic.
    Anna pushed her way back through the crowd. She made it to the railing at the edge of the terrace in time to retch over the side. She prayed she wasn’t contaminating the crime scene—and that no one was watching. When her convulsions stopped, she kept gripping the rail. Her legs were rubbery and her throat was raw, but mostly, she was mortified.
    The view ahead was beautiful. The Washington Monument shone like a beacon against the black sky, and beyond it, the Lincoln Memorial was a steady white square. Anna dug in her purse for one of the tissues she always carried; they were essential in a job where witnesses routinely broke into tears. Now that she needed one herself, she was out. She searched for a crumpled Starbucks napkin, a CVS receipt, anything. Her hands shook.
    “Anna.” Jack stood beside her, offering a folded handkerchief.
    “Thank you.”
    As he placed the handkerchief in her palm, he gently squeezed her hand. She closed her eyes and concentrated on his cool grip. It steadied her. She took a deep breath and reluctantly pulled her hand away. She blotted her cheeks and wiped her mouth with his handkerchief. The cloth smelled of fresh peppermint.
    “God, I’m so embarrassed,” she whispered. “Is anyone laughing at me?”
    “No.” His deep voice brokered no argument. “Everyone does that at their first homicide scene.”
    She doubted that was true, but at least it was comforting. Herhands stopped shaking enough for her to find a Life Saver in her purse. She sucked on the mint and willed her stomach to settle down. She checked her lapels to make sure she hadn’t spattered herself. She seemed clean.
    “Okay, let’s do this.” She turned back to the terrace and stuffed Jack’s handkerchief into her purse so she could wash it before returning it. Jack nodded, and they walked to an MPD officer standing at an arched marble entranceway.
    “Hi, Frank,” Jack said. “Can you show us where