Bones of the Lost by Kathy Reichs EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Kathy Reichs
- Language: English
- Genre: Mystery, Thriller & Suspense Literary Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
I’VE BEEN HELD PRISONER BEFORE. In a basement, a morgue cooler, an
underground crypt. It’s always frightening and intense. But this
captivity exceeded all others for pure physical pain.
The jurors’ lounge in the Mecklenburg County Courthouse is as
good as such facilities get—Wi-Fi, workstations, pool tables, movies,
popcorn. I could have applied for a waiver. Didn’t. The judicial system
called, I came. Good citizen Brennan. Besides, given my line of work, I
knew I’d be excused from actually serving. When I’d planned today’s
schedule I’d slotted sixty, ninety minutes max, cooling my heels.
Heels. Follow my leap here. In my business exciting footwear is
Gore-Tex hikers that breathe, maybe wellies that don’t land you on
your ass. Buying, much less wearing, murderous high heels is about as
likely for me as finding Giganotosaurus remains behind Bad Daddy’s
Burgers.
My sister Harry had talked me into the three-inch Christian
Louboutin pumps. Harry, from Texas, land of big hair and mile-high
stilettos. You’ll look professional, she’d said. In charge. Plus they’re
marked down 60 percent.
I had to admit, the burnished leather and snazzy stitchwork did
look great on my feet. Feel great? Not after three hours of waiting.
When the bailiff finally called our group, I near-tottered into the
courtroom, then into the jury box when my number was called.
“Please state your full name.” Chelsea Jett, six minutes out of law
school, four-hundred-dollar suit, pricey pearl choker, heels that left
mine in the dust. A new prosecutor, Jett was cloaking a case of nerves
with brusqueness.
“Temperance Daessee Brennan.” Make it easy on both of us.
Excuse me pronto.
“Please state your address.”
I did. “That’s at Sharon Hall,” I added, just to be affable.
Nineteenth-century manor, red brick, white pillars, magnolias. My
unit is the annex to the carriage house. Can’t get more Old South than
that. I offered none of that.
“How long have you resided in Charlotte?”
“Since I was eight.”
“Does anyone live at that address with you?”
“My adult daughter has at times, but not now.” The bracelet Katy
gave me hung loose on my wrist, a delicate silver band engraved MOM
ROCKS.
“Your marital status?”
“Separated.” Complicated. I definitely didn’t add that.
“Are you employed?”
“Yes.”
“Please state your employer.”
“State of North Carolina.” Keep it simple.
“Your occupation?”
“Forensic anthropologist.”
“What is the educational requirement for that profession?” Stiff.
“I hold a PhD and am certified by the American Board of Forensic
Anthropology.”
“So you perform autopsies.”
“You’re thinking of a forensic pathologist. Common mistake.”
Jett stiffened.
I offered a smile. The counselor didn’t.
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