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mother swears it was my father’s idea. His last name, Fjell, means ‘mountain’ in Norwegian. And, apparently, his grandfather once climbed the Matterhorn. Hence, the name.” I look at Hurley and smile. “That’s family for you.”
    “Speaking of family, we found out some interesting stuff about Jack’s nephew, Brian Denver. One of the neighbors told us he’s a student at the U of Dub in Madison, and that Jack has been paying for his tuition and housing. But when we called the university to get contact information, they told us Brian dropped out of school last semester and hasn’t been back since.”
    “Did you talk to him?”
    Hurley shakes his head. “We don’t know where he is. He’s no longer at the last known address the university had for him, and his ex-roommates claim they have no idea where he went. We’ll find him, but it may take a while. In the meantime, I have Catherine Albright coming in the morning, and then we have an eleven o’clock appointment at the home of Jack’s housekeeper, a woman named Serena Vasquez. After that, we’ll pay a visit to the nursing agency that employs Lisa Warden, Jack’s home health aide.”
    “Wow, you’ve been busy.”
    Hurley shrugs. “Just a typical day, really, but I want to get moving on this case and cover as much ground as we can, as soon as we can. We’ve only got a few days before that seminar in Daytona Beach. I can turn the case over to someone else while we’re gone, but I’d rather not. With a little luck, maybe we can solve it before we go.”
    “That would be nice.” I sigh, gazing out at snow-spotted fields. With the warm temperature, the snow is rapidly retreating, turning the landscape into a barren, muddy mess. “I can’t wait to relax with some ocean breezes, greenery, and sunshine.”
    “I’m afraid you won’t have much time to enjoy the weather. We have two full days of sessions, and an early-morning flight out the next day.”
    “Yeah, but that still leaves two evenings to enjoy,” I tell him. “Plus the lunch breaks are two hours long, and the hotel is right on the beach.”
    Hurley glances over at me with a faintly salacious grin. “Are you going to wear a bikini?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.
    Over my dead, oddly striped body .
    “Nope, no bikinis this trip,” I say, like I’m a supermodel who wears bikinis all the time. In reality, I don’t even wear bikini underwear. “I have to be careful in the sun because my skin burns easily, so no bathing suit of any kind for me.”
    “None at all?” Hurley asks, sounding disappointed. “What if you want to go swimming in the ocean?”
    “I won’t. I don’t want to drown. Plus there’re sharks in the ocean.”
    I’m really not afraid of getting attacked by a shark, nor am I afraid of drowning. It turns out fat is very buoyant and I’m a strong swimmer. In fact, I’m a certified scuba diver. But there’s no way I’m letting Hurley, or anyone else, see me in a bathing suit until I can shed a few of my recovering-from-hubby’s-infidelity pounds.
    Hurley chuckles. “Hell, your chances of getting eaten by a shark are way less than your chances of getting murdered in Sorenson these days.”
    He has a point. I’ve heard comments from several people about how the murder rate in Sorenson seems to have quadrupled lately. It makes me wonder if the “black cloud” label I used to get slapped with when I worked in the ER has followed me to my new job. Our worst shifts in the ER always came whenever I was on duty, and it seems like the sharks in Sorenson have been very hungry since I started my new job. If anyone starts calling me “chum,” I might have to find another career.
    I hope that doesn’t happen because there aren’t many other jobs that put my best talents—nosiness and the ability to identify internal organs on sight—to such good use. Plus there are the side benefits. What other job could I find that would let me spend hours each day with