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Mina escorted Dr. Osborne into the escape room and stood back. “As you can see, they wedged Mayor Sutton into the locker on the end.”

“How in the world did they fit him in there?” Osborne shook his head in bewilderment and set down his medical bag on the floor just inside the door.

“When you take a closer look, you’ll see there’s a cutout in the wall behind him, providing extra room.”

Osborne crossed the room and pulled the locker door open further. “Oh, I see. Just like you said, there’s space behind the locker.” He studied the body from every angle possible.

“Can you determine any cause or time of death?” she asked, eager to move forward in her investigation, though she knew he would shoot her down.

“No.” He turned, a frown on his face. “Just like with my conversation with Orr, you need to give this time. I’ll have to extricate Ernie’s body from the locker first, destroying as little evidence as possible, and then get him on the table for an autopsy.”

The rattle of an off-balanced gurney sounded in the hallway, signaling the arrival of his assistant, who Mina recognized from other body retrievals. Hands gripping the gurney, Kevin stopped at the doorway and peered at the doctor.

“Leave the gurney there,” Dr. Osborne said. “We don’t want to contaminate the scene. I’ll need your help extracting the mayor.”

Extract the mayor. Now that’s a phrase Mina never expected to hear. She knew him as more than the mayor. He was the father of a woman who was four years behind Mina in high school. Becca Sutton still lived in town and was the mayor’s next of kin. The person Mina would have to tell that her father had been murdered.

Mina’s heart clenched. She’d made death calls before from car accidents, but she’d never had to tell someone a family member had been brutally murdered. That was a whole other type of notification. Both deaths were sudden and jarring to the survivors, but learning that someone had taken your loved one’s life on purpose added a greater level of grief. One Mina couldn’t imagine. Didn’t want to imagine.

“Crazy that it’s the mayor,” Kevin said as he joined Dr. Osborne at the locker. “As far as I knew, he was a pretty all right dude. Not like the guy before him.”

“You’re right,” Dr. Osborne said. “His reputation as a top-notch mayor was talked about all over the county. I almost regretted not living here in Lost Lake to see him in action.”

“Yeah, but you could never run a practice in a town this small,” Kevin said. “I know this dude will be missed.”

When news got out of Mayor Sutton’s death, conversations like this one would be had all across town. He really didn’t have any enemies, as far as Mina knew, but he did have a lot of supporters. She could understand someone like Dr. Osborne thinking highly of him as he’d known the mayor for years, but when the lowly paid assistant who moved to town about a year ago sung the mayor’s praises, she knew Sutton reached most every demographic in town.

“Gently now,” Dr. Osborne said as he and Kevin eased the body out of the locker.

Kevin held the mayor’s feet and Dr. Osborne his upper body as they crossed the room and laid him on the gurney. The mayor was a slender man and fit for his age. He was a runner and a golfer, which kept him active. Becca had held a big sixtieth birthday celebration for him last week.

She inched closer to the gurney and took in details. He wore dress slacks and shoes, along with a white, starched, long-sleeved shirt, the side that had been facing into the locker soaked with blood. A ring of shredded fabric sat directly above his heart.

“He was shot,” she said.

“That looks like the case.” Dr. Osborne unbuttoned Mayor Sutton’s shirt. A circular wound appeared under the bloody area. “Yes, indeed. It looks like he was shot. Judging by the size of the hole, I would say it was a small caliber bullet. It wasn’t at point-blank range but not a long-distance shot either.”

“So he might’ve known his killer.”

“Could be, or he was just taken by surprise by the shooter.”

“Murder statistics say that odds are good that he knew the shooter, though.”

“You’re right.” Dr. Osborne frowned. “A larger percent of people are killed by someone they know. Often someone they loved. Especially when the victim is female.”

A very sad statistic, but it was true. It was rarer for someone to be killed by a complete stranger. It was a more common occurrence these days than it had been in the past, but the statistics still held. A greater percent of murders were committed during an argument or romantic triangle than any other circumstance, and by far, the majority of murders were committed by men wielding guns or strangulating their partner.

Using that theory, they were likely looking for a male who had known and argued with Mayor Sutton. Someone like Nolan Orr or his male teammates.

Dr. Osborne turned the body. “We have an exit wound, so you’ll find the bullet that killed him somewhere at the scene.”

“A through-and-through.” She cruised around the room and examined it. “No extraneous blood, casings, bullet holes, or any other sign that he was shot here.”

“Yes,” Dr. Osborne said without glancing up. “The lack of blood in the room suggests he was killed elsewhere and placed in the locker. Or the killer cleaned up the blood.”

“Then the forensic staff should be able to find traces of it.” Suddenly hoping they did get the world-renowned Veritas forensic staff to process the room, she returned to the gurney. “Any idea on time of death?”

Dr. Osborne looked at his assistant. “Let’s get the ambient temperature.”

“On it.” Kevin reached into the doctor’s medical bag and lifted out a thermometer to measure the air temperature.

Osborne lifted the mayor’s pant leg and pressed his finger into his purple skin. “Clear signs of lividity throughout body, but it’s not fixed. Which tells me he’s been dead for less than ten hours. Maybe less than six.”

“Six to ten hours,” she said. “Getting alibies for such a wide time frame could be tricky. Can you narrow that down further?”

“Maybe.” Osborne lifted Mayor Sutton’s right leg and then the left. He moved to his arms and followed suit. “No rigor mortis in larger muscles. It occurs in all the muscles in the body at the same time, but it can first be felt in the smaller muscles of the face, then the arms, and finally the legs.”

She might not have worked a murder investigation before, but anybody who watched murder mysteries or movies on television or read much would know rigor mortis was the stiffening of muscles in the body that occurred after death.

He pressed his fingers on the mayor’s face. “Rigor’s present in the smaller muscles but not fixed. We’re at least in the first five to seven hours since cessation of life.”

Good. Now they had a two-hour window. “So we’re talking this afternoon between two-thirty and four-thirty.”

“Yes, and hopefully the temperature of his liver will help confirm that timeframe. If you’re squeamish you might want to turn away.” He grabbed his medical bag and removed a scalpel and what looked like a meat thermometer.

She wasn’t squeamish, and even if she were, she wasn’t about to look away at a very important moment in the investigation. After lifting the mayor’s shirt, he sliced a small incision in the upper right abdomen and passed the thermometer into the liver.

“Ambient temperature is 72.4,” Kevin called out.

The doctor kept his hand on the thermometer. “Get out your phone so you can determine the hours since death based on the liver temperature.”

He tapped his foot for a while, then looked up. “We have a liver temp of 90.4.”

Kevin thumbed his phone screen. “We’re talking five and a half hours.”

Mina looked at her watch. Nine-thirty p.m. minus the five and a half hours. “That would be four p.m.”

“Yes,” Dr. Osborne said. “But I won’t state specifically that he died at four p.m. There are factors in my calculations that could change based on circumstances. And I won’t declare an official time of death at this point, but I will suggest that it’s between three and five p.m. today. That should give you a place to start. If I can be more specific after the autopsy, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I should be able to obtain alibis in the interviews tonight for the people who found him.”

She didn’t mean to sound so eager, but apparently she was eager to prove Nolan had nothing to do with this murder. Why, she didn’t know. Maybe it was simply because she knew him. The rest of the team too.

When she’d gotten to know his friends, she’d respected them and gotten along with them. They were a close-knit group. Been friends since college. By the time she’d met them, they were more like a tightly knit family. Despite that, they were also welcoming and inclusive. She appreciated that and had once looked forward to being part of their alternative family unit.

She resisted sighing. “I’ll let you finish up here. Please let me know when the autopsy is scheduled.”

She started down the hallway but stopped for a moment. She was in over her head. Not only in the investigation, but with Nolan and his team. She couldn’t do it alone. Not at all. She lifted her head.

Please let all of these team members have a solid alibi for the time of death. The last thing I want to do is to charge one of them with murder. Especially not Nolan.

Nolan stood in the dining room, when all he wanted to do was pace up and down the hall as he waited for Mina to return. He’d taken a few strides, but the deputy in charge had given him a dirty look. No point in poking the bear. So he’d entered the dining room and leaned against the fireplace mantle. He tried to pay attention as his team talked about an upcoming town festival celebrating the founding of Lost Lake that they would participate in for community goodwill.

He didn’t feel like small talk. Not at all. Especially not on the topic of goodwill. Many of the residents didn’t like the fact that they’d converted the fifteen-room inn and lighthouse from a housing venue into their type of business.

How could they argue? The place had sat vacant for three years since the bank foreclosed on it, and no one wanted or had the money to buy it. Sure they were wishing it remained an inn in hopes that it would help the resort traffic, but it went out of business for a reason. And wasn’t it better to have his team there, slowly restoring it to its former glory, than to have it sitting vacant and decaying into the ground?

Of course it was. But people in small towns like Lost Lake didn’t always welcome progress. Nolan understood that. Kind of. He’d never lived it. He was born and raised in Portland and had always lived in cities.

His father was a top executive for Nike in Beaverton, and his mother a socialite who had more time for her groups and causes than for Nolan. He was basically raised by his nanny, who, God bless her, was a God-fearing Christian woman. His mother had allowed her to take him to church with her.

As far as he was concerned, he got the best end of the deal when his mother had little time for him. He got a chance to learn about Jesus and had faith in his life. Besides, he found family with his teammates. They each had reasons they weren’t close to their birth parents, and they embraced everyone on the team, warts and all, as family.

Conversation down the hallway caught his attention. Mina was talking to someone, but he didn’t know who and couldn’t make out what she was saying. Probably talking to her deputy or the doctor.

He shook his head. Seeing her again had cut him in two—an almost visceral reaction. He knew he hadn’t let their breakup go, but he had no clue he still had feelings for her. Or did he and he’d buried them?

Could be he was just upset that she was the one who got away. Or maybe he just wasn’t sure he could believe her about not getting the note. There was nothing he could do about that. That was for sure.

Hurried footsteps coming their way echoed in the hall. He faced the door.

Mina whipped into the room as if on a mission, her expression tight. “I’ve set up a room down the hall to take individual statements. As usual, don’t discuss the situation. I don’t care who goes first. Any volunteers?”

“I’ll go,” Nolan said. “That is, if you still need a formal statement from me.”

“I do. Follow me.” She spun on her heel and marched down the hallway. She passed the crime scene where the medical examiner and his assistant were zipping the mayor’s body into a black bag.

She stopped next to them. “Before you take him away, can we check for a cell phone?”

“Open the bag, Kevin,” Dr. Osborne said.

The assistant sighed but pulled down the zipper, and they both patted the body down.

“Nothing here,” the ME said. “If we find one when we get back to the morgue, I’ll let you know.”

“Let me dial his number to see if it rings.” Mina got out her phone, tapped the screen, and lifted the device to her ear. She soon frowned. “Nothing. Thanks for taking the time to look.”

Kevin pulled the zipper closed and then wheeled the body down the hall.

Nolan resisted shaking his head. He never imagined he would come to the sleepy town and become entangled in the first murder of his adult life. Much less be implicated in it because of the items in the escape room. Or have to deal with Mina Park in any capacity, not to mention her being the investigating officer.

She took off down the hall and stopped outside the door on the left. “In here. Have a seat.” She didn’t wait for him but stepped into the room.

The living area held a small round table and chairs at the far end. Bookshelves loaded with books and board games surrounded the room.

Mina had already taken a seat on the far side of the table and rested her hands on top.

He sat across from her and leaned back, acting relaxed when he was anything but at ease in her presence.

She took out a pen and notepad. “Start by recounting the events tonight again.”

He took her through the evening, and she scribbled most of the time without looking up or asking clarifying questions. When he finished, he placed his hands on the table. “That’s everything until you arrived.”

“The same thing you told me earlier.”

“Why would I deviate? It’s what happened.”

“Where were you today between three and five p.m.?” she asked, ignoring his question.

“The medical examiner gave you a window for time of death, I see.”

“I didn’t say that,” she said, tapping her pen on her notepad. “Where were you?”

“That’s simple. We had just finished an investigation, and we were all in a debrief in our conference room at the inn.”

She arched an eyebrow. “The whole team?”

“Well, no.” His gut cramped. “All except Jude. He was on his way back from Portland but on the phone with us.”

“That’s convenient, isn’t it?” That eyebrow rose even higher toward her hairline. “For all of you to alibi each other out for the time of death.”

“I don’t know if it’s convenient, but it’s what happened and where we were.”

She laid her pen on the table. “Do you have any proof of your whereabouts other than vouching for each other?”

Did they? Think, man . Think like an investigator, not a former boyfriend. “We had food delivered. Not sure of the guy’s name, but the food came from Submarine Burgers. You could contact them to confirm.”

She wrote that in her notebook. “That doesn’t help Jude.”

“You could trace the whereabouts of his cell phone at that time.”

“I could, but that would just mean Jude’s cell phone was located in his car. Was he alone or did he have a passenger in his vehicle?”

“Alone,” Nolan said, though he felt like he was ratting out a brother and fellow teammate. But he had to tell the truth, and they would have to find a way to prove Jude hadn’t been near Mayor Sutton at that time.

He waited for her to comment on Jude’s whereabouts, but she remained stone-faced, jotting notes in her book. She looked up. “Now that you’ve had some time to think about it, did you come up with anyone who would want to kill the mayor?”

“No.” He left it at that. If they had been working together, he would suggest they speak to the mayor’s assistant. Daisy Ellington knew everything about the mayor’s work and daily schedule. But until Mina said she would let the team help, he would keep this lead to himself. And Daisy would be the first person he talked to.

His phone rang, and he glanced at caller ID. He looked up and made sure not to let his excitement over the name on his screen color his tone. “It’s the Veritas Center. Want me to answer?”

“Absolutely.” She leaned closer to him, not holding back her excitement.

He accepted the call. “Nolan Orr.”

“This is Sierra Rice at the Veritas Center.” Her businesslike tone didn’t give away the reason for her call. “I’m the partner in charge of forensics for our center. Reid Maddox asked me to call you.”

“Thank you for getting back to me so quickly. Sheriff Mina Park is here. She’s in charge of the murder investigation. Do you mind if I put you on speaker?”

“That would be great,” Sierra said. “You can bring me up-to-date on everything that’s occurred tonight.” Nolan placed his phone on the table and tapped the speaker button, then promptly told Sierra what had occurred. “Sheriff Park is currently conducting my initial interview and will be interviewing my teammates before the night is through.”

“Is the scene secured and will remain so until we can arrive tomorrow?” Sierra asked.

“It’s secure,” Mina said. “And I can make sure it remains that way until further notice.”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Sheriff Park,” Sierra said.

“Please call me Mina,” Mina smiled though this wasn’t a video call. “Does this mean you’re considering processing the forensics for us?”

“We’re not considering it,” Sierra said. “We’ve decided to do it, and before you ask, we have plenty of money left in our budget to handle the investigation pro bono.”

“Thank you very much.” Mina’s tone was flooded with relief.

“Yes,” Nolan said. “This is really good news.”

“Our team will be departing Portland at eight a.m. At this point, I’ll be arriving along with two of my assistants. Unless there are other needs beyond forensics.”

“Our victim was shot, so we will need a firearms expert too.” Mina tapped her finger on the table. “The ME confirmed the slug was a through-and-through, but the victim wasn’t shot where we discovered him. We haven’t looked for the murder scene yet, so we don’t have anything to evaluate right now.”

“Once you locate the actual scene where the victim was killed and the slug, we’ll talk about that again.” Sierra cleared her throat. “What other resources might you need?”

“I would foresee the need for a digital expert. Both to evaluate our victim’s phone if we find it, and the computer at his office and home.”

“That sounds to me like it could be handled at our facility if you can provide me with the devices. Nick may want to travel there to take the device and computers into inventory. He’s a real stickler about making sure nothing is altered. If so, I’ll let you know if you should expect him.”

“It’s wonderful to have such a professional team to work with.” Mina sounded equally professional, and Nolan was oddly proud of her.

“It will take us at least a day to process your scene,” Sierra said. “Then we’ll have travel time. Means we’ll need lodging for a minimum of one night. Is this something you can arrange and provide for us?”

“Yes,” Mina answered right away. “I’ll book you at the local hotel, and my department will pick up the cost.”

“Excellent,” Sierra said. “Nolan, I know you arranged for our services, but I’m assuming that all reporting will go to the county.”

Nolan really didn’t want that to happen. “Can’t you report to both of us?”

Mina glared at him.

“Maybe,” Sierra said. “If you want me to be able to access government databases, I’ll need an official case number from you, Mina. Which means this investigation will be in your county’s name. It will be up to you whether you allow Nolan access to those reports too.”

Mina lifted her chin and pointed it at Nolan. “Let’s just keep them directed to me at this time, and I can decide what I want to share with Nolan.”

“Is that all right with you, Nolan?” Sierra asked.

No. Not at all. But did he have much choice? Not if they wanted Sierra to access fingerprint and DNA databases, and what good would either prints or DNA do them if they couldn’t perform the searches? None.

“Yes,” he answered reluctantly. He would have to find a way to persuade Mina to include him in the reporting and pray that she didn’t withhold information from him. He sure didn’t want to badger her. That would only serve to make their terrible relationship even worse.