Read Vanish: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel for Free Online

attractive?”
    “What difference does it make?”
    “Come on.” Abe laughed. “You
know
it makes a difference.”
    Maura sighed. “Yes,” she admitted. “She’s very attractive.”
    “Yeah, well, there you go. Young, sexy, and almost sliced open alive.”
    “She wasn’t.”
    “I’m just warning you, that’s how the public’s going to see it.”
    “Can’t I just call in sick today? Maybe catch the next flight to Bermuda?”
    “And leave me with this mess? Don’t you dare.”
    When she turned onto Albany Street twenty minutes later, she spotted two TV vans parked near the front entrance of the ME’s building. As Abe had warned her, reporters were poised to pounce. She stepped out of her air-conditioned Lexus, into a morning already thick with humidity, and half a dozen reporters scurried toward her.
    “Dr. Isles!” a man called out. “I’m from the
Boston Tribune.
Could I have a few words with you about Jane Doe?”
    In response, Maura reached into her briefcase and pulled out copies of what she had composed that morning. It was a matter-of-fact summary of the night’s events, and how she had responded. Briskly she handed out copies. “This is my statement,” she said. “I have nothing else to add.”
    It did not stop the flood of questions.
    “How can anyone make a mistake like this?”
    “Do we know the woman’s name yet?”
    “We’re told that Weymouth Fire Department made the determination of death. Can you name names?”
    Maura said, “You’ll have to talk to their spokesperson. I can’t answer for them.”
    Now a woman spoke up. “You have to admit, Dr. Isles, that this is a clear case of incompetence on
someone’s
part.”
    Maura recognized that voice. She turned and saw a blond woman who’d pushed her way to the front of the pack. “You’re that reporter from channel six.”
    “Zoe Fossey.” The woman started to smile, gratified to be recognized, but the look Maura gave her instantly froze that smile to stone.
    “You misquoted me,” said Maura. “I never said I blamed the fire department or the state police.”
    “Someone must be at fault. If not them, then who? Are you responsible, Dr. Isles?”
    “Absolutely not.”
    “A woman was zipped into a body bag, still alive. She was trapped in the morgue refrigerator for eight hours. And it’s nobody’s fault?” Fossey paused. “Don’t you think someone should lose their job over this? Say, that state police investigator?”
    “You’re certainly quick to assign blame.”
    “That mistake could have killed a woman.”
    “But it didn’t.”
    “Isn’t this a pretty basic error?” Fossey laughed. “I mean, how hard can it be to tell that someone’s not dead?”
    “Harder than you’d think,” Maura shot back.
    “So you’re defending them.”
    “I gave you my statement. I can’t comment on the actions of anyone else.”
    “Dr. Isles?” It was the man from the
Boston Tribune
again. “You said that determining death isn’t necessarily easy. I know there’ve been similar mistakes made in other morgues around the country. Could you educate us as to why it’s sometimes difficult?” He spoke with quiet respect. Not a challenge, but a thoughtful question that deserved an answer.
    She regarded the man for a moment. Saw intelligent eyes and windblown hair and a trim beard that made her think of a youthful college professor. Those dark good looks would surely inspire countless coed crushes. “What’s your name?” she said.
    “Peter Lukas. I write a weekly column for the
Tribune.
”
    “I’ll talk to you, Mr. Lukas. And only you. Come inside.”
    “Wait,” Fossey protested. “Some of us have been waiting around out here a lot longer.”
    Maura shot her a withering look. “In this case, Ms. Fossey, it’s not the early bird that gets the worm. It’s the polite one.” She turned and walked into the building, the
Tribune
reporter right behind her.
    Her secretary, Louise, was on the phone. Clapping her hand