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the book. He was curious to see how it would be working with her. She was thirty-four, if he remembered right from J.D.’s account, and young, beautiful—hell, she looked more like a model or an actress than a cop. He just hoped she was as good as her first impression made her out to be. He had a gut feeling that this was going to be a bad one. He was going to need all the input he could get. From Julia Cass and everybody else involved in the investigation.
    â€œHave you handled many homicide cases?” Will asked Julia.
    â€œI worked homicide in Nashville for ten years. I’ve seen a lot of terrible things.”
    â€œThis terrible?”
    â€œNo. Not a severed tongue. That tells me this guy is sick, seriously disturbed, or somebody with a tongue fetish.”
    â€œProbably all three.” Will hesitated. “I’ve had some training in profiling at Quantico. Serial killers, mainly.”
    â€œIf you’re thinking this is the work of a serial, I agree. I hope we’re both wrong.”
    â€œIt could be simply a grudge thing. Lockhart was a judge. Judges tend to irritate people.”
    â€œFrom what I’ve heard, the victim hasn’t always played by the rules.”
    â€œYeah? Who told you that?”
    â€œChief Mullins. And J.D., too. I remember him being ticked off by a case he was involved in. Said the judge was entirely pro-defense and didn’t make any bones about it. Pretty much ignored the facts and let the guy go.”
    â€œWe’ll have to check out his cases. See if we can find any threats against him. Hopefully the maid will be able to tell us if he’s gotten any intimidating calls or disturbances here at the house. Maids usually know everything going on in a household.”
    â€œYou that familiar with maids?”
    â€œNo, but I know people who are, and treat them like members of the family. She’ll know a lot about this family; trust me on that.”
    Walking along the curving flagstone path, they turned around when they heard the TBI forensic technicians out of Knoxville round the far end of the gallery. There were three men and two women, all dressed in white jumpsuits. Will knew most of them by name and waved them toward the porch where the body was, but he kept walking, wanting to interview the maid sooner rather than later. The CPD officers indicated that she had been hysterical from the moment they arrived on the scene, and they hadn’t been able to get much out of her. From his experience, that was probably for the better. He and Julia were experienced interrogators. And this would give Will an opportunity to check out Julia’s skills right off the bat. He hoped for the best, but he was still in charge. Julia was used to being lead investigator herself, but she was backing off and letting him give the orders, at least so far. He appreciated that.
    The maid’s quarters were located at the far end of the swimming pool enclosure. It looked very nice, like a small English cottage with fragrant yellow roses growing up a trellis beside the front door. Everything was neat and clean, the walk swept, and lots of pots of purple and white petunias. One large Boston fern hung on a lantern hook beside the front door. The door stood wide, and Will could see through the screen that the maid was sitting in a blue recliner in the living room. She was clutching a little boy who appeared to be around three or four years old. The woman looked as though she’d never let go of the child again.
    â€œHello,” Julia said to her through the screen door. “May we come in, Ms. Bota?”
    The maid didn’t say anything but she nodded. Julia opened the screen door and went inside. Will followed. If Julia wanted to take the lead in questioning, that was fine by him. If he had to jump in, he would. It would give him time to watch Maria Bota’s body language and see if she was telling the truth.
    â€œShe looks scared, Brannock, real