Her Last Breath: A Kate Burkholder Novel

call out again, but no one responds. I’m midway to his office when I hear the French door open. Smoke break, I think, and continue toward his office.
    Armitage startles upon spotting me, nearly dropping the ashtray in his hand, a distinctly feminine yelp escaping him. “Shit, Chief!”
    “I didn’t mean to startle you.” I raise my hands. “I was making my rounds and saw the light.”
    He lets out a belly laugh. “Just don’t tell anyone I screamed like a girl.”
    “Your secret’s safe with me.” If I knew him better, I might have razzed him. Since I don’t, I keep it professional.
    “You’re not going to scold me for leaving the door unlocked, are you?” he asks.
    “I was thinking about it.”
    “You know, when I was working at the clinic in Cleveland, I’d never dream of leaving the front door unlocked, especially at night. Here…” He shakes his head. “I guess I’m getting lax.”
    “Well, clinics have become targets of drug thieves in the last few months.” I tell him about a local veterinary hospital that was recently burglarized.
    “I do keep some drugs on hand here at the clinic. Sleeping aids. Antianxiety drugs. Samples I’ve received from my pharmaceutical reps.” He shrugs. “Living in a town like Painters Mill … you don’t think about crime like that.”
    “Look, Dr. Armitage, I stopped by to follow up on our earlier conversation about the Borntragers.”
    “You mean about the children?”
    I tell him about the coroner’s discovery of bruises on Norah. “I’m bound to notify Children Services now.”
    “I see.” His expression turns troubled. “That’s going to be difficult for Mattie.”
    I nod. “Dr. Armitage, do you think Mattie had anything to do with any of those bruises?”
    “I talked to both Paul and Mattie during the months I’ve been treating the children. I can tell you right now she isn’t the one who spanked those kids, Chief Burkholder. Paul was the disciplinarian in the family. He doled out the punishment when it came to the kids.”
    “The social worker will probably want to talk with you.”
    “You know I’ll help in any way I can.” He shakes his head. “I just hate to see this happen to Mattie, especially now that she’s lost Paul.”
    “Me, too,” I tell him, meaning it. “But we have to think of David.”
    He nods, but his mouth is pulled into a grimace.
    “I appreciate your time, Dr. Armitage, especially so late.”
    “No problem.” He motions toward the hall. “I’ll walk you to the door.”
    He takes me down the hall and through the reception area. At the front door I extend my hand and we shake. “Don’t work too late, Doc.”
    “Twenty minutes and I’m out of here.”
    I hear the door close as I descend the steps. Flipping on my Maglite, I traverse the lot to where I parked the Explorer. I’m rounding the front end when something metallic glints in the beam of my flashlight. I glance down to see part of a large steel pin lying in the gravel beneath the bushes. I kneel for a closer look. I almost can’t believe my eyes when I see that the pin has been sheared in half.
    A tingle of recognition moves through me. “What the hell?”
    I’ve seen the other half of that pin. I’ve held it in my hand. Pondered its existence. It’s the missing half of the pin found at the scene of the hit and run. How did it get here?
    Tugging an evidence bag from a compartment on my belt, I use it to pick it up. It’s L-shaped, with a cotter pin intact and still in place. I stare at it, trying to make sense of it. But my heart is pounding because my brain has already made the connection. I don’t want to give voice to the thoughts running through my head. Once I unleash that beast I won’t be able to contain it. The last thing I want to do is overreact and make an accusation that can’t be taken back.
    But I don’t have the luxury of sticking my head in the sand. It’s possible the driver of the truck that hit the Borntrager buggy, for whatever reason, pulled into this lot the night of the murders, perhaps to hide. It’s possible that the pin, having been somehow loosened during the impact, fell out and landed here in the gravel.
    I look around, my eyes gravitating to the old barn and detached garage. Both buildings were originally part of the farm before the house was donated to the clinic. I don’t know if Ronald Hope retained ownership, intending to use them to park his tractor and farm implements or if they’re now part