Page 91 of Killer on the First Page

She thanked him in turn for watching out for Ned. “I worry about him.”

“I know you do,” Doc said. He pulled on his jacket. “Miranda, I can run you and the deputy to the police station, if you like, so you can drop off that broken necklace.”

As far as evidence went, this was a dead end, she was sure. But one never knew. And the fact that Ray Valentine had gone out of his way to draw attention to it seemed more significant than the item itself.

Doc opened the door of his SUV and put his tackle box and medical satchel in the rear seat to make room for them up front.

Before he could start the engine, Miranda said, “Can I ask you a question?”

He grinned. “You just did.” It was his gentle teasing that always made Miranda a little weak in the knees.

“I mean, can I ask you another question?”

“You just did.”

“How about a third question, then?”

He took pity on her this time and said, “Shoot.”

“You’ve known Ned for a long time.”

“Since we were kids. Sure.”

“What’s the story behind that quarter he carries with him?”

This got Andrew’s attention. He was dying to know, too.

“Oh,” said Doc. “That.”

“He says it’s a lucky coin.”

“It is—and it isn’t,” said Doc. “You have to understand that Bea was just about the cutest girl in middle school, and the sweetest girl, too. Bob and Ned, they both had immense crushes on her. We all did. How could you not?”

“Bob being Bob Maracle, Bea’s late husband.”

“That’s right. Bob and me, we were cousins.”

Andrew said, “No way!”

“Sure. I got lotsa cousins, all the way up the coast, from Neahkahnie to Sechelt. Anyway, Bob and Ned, they both wanted to ask Bea to the Spring Jamboree school dance (or some such). They didn’t want to put Bea on the spot, so they tossed a coin. Whoever won would get to ask her out first. If she said no, then the other would get to ask. Bob won the toss. Bea said sure, she would love to go to the dance with him. He kissed her behind the gym, they started goingsteady, and they fell in love. The two of them got married. Ned never did. He’s kept that coin ever since.”

Doc had just started the engine when his phone rang. His ringtone was the theme song fromQuincy M.E., Miranda noted, right down to the voice-over:“Gentlemen, you are about to enter the most important and fascinating sphere of police work: the world of forensic medicine.”Everyone around here is a frustrated detective, she thought, with a shake of her head. How delusional.

“Hey guys. Speak of the devil,” said Doc. “It’s Ned on the phone.”

Doc answered and the smile drained from his face. “I’ll be right there.” He pulled out onto the harbor road.

“There’s been another death,” Doc said.

“Oh no! Who?” Miranda asked. “And where?” Though she had an inkling.

“Where we were heading. The police station. The woman they were holding, Wanda Stobol, she was found dead, locked inside her cell.”

Another X through another member of the Idaho Seven, thought Miranda.And then there were four...

* * *

AFTER EXAMINING THEbody, Doc determined the cause of death to be sudden cardiac arrest, and the Investigative Support Team from Portland concurred, pending a fuller examination of the body. And with that, Wanda Stobol (aka Deborah Nolan, according to her driver’s license) was no more. She had died in a police station, while inside a locked cell, alone.