Hanging up, Gage chuckled, thinking about his friend. Chuck was a medical examiner in Florida. Gage had worked with him on a few cases in the past, and knew Chuck not only knew his stuff, but had good instincts when it came to determining unusual causes of death. He’d have felt better if Chuck had been the one to perform Steven Dawkins’ autopsy.
This reminded him of another favor he needed. He quickly dialed.
“Boudreau,” the voice answered.
“Good thing I know which brother I dialed. That response could be very confusing otherwise.”
“Gage. What’s up?”
“Need a favor. I’d do it myself but I’m not in Texas at the moment.”
“Whatever you need.”
“I need to get a copy of an autopsy report. I figure you could get it faster than me.”
“An autopsy? I’ll need the name, date of death, and county where they died.”
“Dallas County. Date was June 1st. Name is Steven Dawkins.”
“Dawkins? That’s an open homicide.”
Gage pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, and took a deep breath. Why did everybody think he didn’t know Steven Dawkins’ death was a homicide? It wasn’t like he was living under a rock.
“I know. I’m looking into the case for a friend. Swears the wife didn’t do it.”
“Do you believe her?” Gage could hear papers shuffling after Chance asked the question. “As a prosecutor, there’s a ton of evidence stacked against her. Too much if you ask me. What’s your honest opinion?”
“I’m keeping an open mind. I’ve talked to Suzanna Dawkins, and she’s sincere when she says she didn’t kill her husband. That she loved him. But like you said, the evidence is piling up and it all points to her as the guilty party.”
“I’ll order a copy of the autopsy report. I’ll get the death certificate too. Have you talked to the detective investigating the case? It’s Dallas Police Department, right?”
“Yes, DPD. I’ve got a call in to the lead detective, but he hasn’t called me back yet.”
“I’m here if you need to a second set of eyes, or somebody to bounce questions off. I’m pretty good at looking at both sides of the picture.”
“Appreciate it. Right now, I’m simply on a fact-finding mission and I’m going to start talking to people who were there the morning the body was found. I need to find the maid, see what she can tell me.”
“I’ll shoot you the info as soon as I get it.”
Gage looked down at his now cold café au lait and grimaced. He needed to get busy anyway, and the next stop on his agenda was talking to Suzanna again. There were a few more questions he needed answers to.
“Thanks. Give your folks my best. Tell Ms. Patti—”
“Nope, you’re not roping me into being your surrogate messenger boy. You call and talk to her.” He could hear the smile in Gage’s voice. “You have no idea how much she loves hearing from you when you call or stop by. It’s like the highlight of her day.”
Warmth pooled in Gage’s core at Chance’s words. If he had his way, he’d move to Shiloh Springs in a heartbeat, to be near the Boudreau parents. But he couldn’t, not yet anyway. Maybe someday, when things were different, he’d make that dream a reality.
“I’ll do that. Thanks again.”
Waving his server over, he ordered two café au lait and a couple orders of beignets to go. Might be a good idea to head over to Suzanna’s hotel and go over a few things while he was waiting for Jansen to call him back. Grabbing his order, he left a nice-sized tip and headed toward the hotel where Suzanna was staying. He’d gotten the information from her the night before.
For some reason, he felt an overwhelming urge to see Suzanna this morning. It had started while he was talking with Chuck, but intensified while he was on the phone with Chance.He couldn’t explain it, but he had a feeling of uneasiness, a sense that something was wrong. It was almost like she needed him.
It was only a few blocks to her hotel, and with each step the feeling grew until he was almost running by the time he got there. Without waiting for the elevator, he took the stairs, two and three at a time, balancing the tray in his hand. It was funny, the feeling of urgency was like the one he got right before walking into a dangerous situation, like when he’d nearly had his head blown off during a hostage exchange in Belarus. He’d walked into an ambush and barely gotten out alive. Now the same feeling swept over him, which put him on guard as he approached Suzanna’s door.
“Inside.”
The guttural tone of the one word sent a chill down Suzanna’s spine, unnerving her almost as much as the gun pointed at her face. Instinctively she raised both hands, showing him she was unarmed and cooperating.
