The Dying Breath: A Forensic Mystery

it. Wiping the tears from her cheeks, Cameryn threw her boots into the closet. Her BlackBerry hummed in her pocket and she rubbed her face with the palm of her hand. Was it Justin calling to apologize? Or worse.
    The number, though, was one she recognized. It belonged to Dr. Moore.
    “Hello?” she said. Clearing her throat, she tried to take the waver out. “Dr. Moore?”
    “Hello, Miss Mahoney,” Dr. Moore said. “I trust things are going well for you?”
    “I’m okay,” she said. “Is something wrong?”
    “Yes. You remember I asked you to come down tomorrow? I’m afraid there’s been a change in plans.”
    Cameryn’s heart fell. So, Justin had ruined it for her, after all. But before she could begin to form her argument, Dr. Moore said, “If you’re up for it, I’d like you to come down right now. I wouldn’t ask but it’s important.”
    “Is this about Brent Safer and Joseph Stein? About the jelly in the lungs?”
    “Yes, and no. There is something I need you to see.”
    “I—I don’t understand,” Cameryn stammered.
    “I don’t want to say more over the phone,” he said, and she immediately understood he was being vague for the benefit of the police. “But let me say this: the case just got a lot bigger.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean the game has changed.”
    It took her a moment to form the words. “What’s this about?”
    “You. I’ll expect you and your father within the hour.”

Chapter Ten

    “CAMMIE, HONEY, IT’S time to wake up. We’re here.”
    “What?” Cameryn struggled to sit up from the front seat of the station wagon. “Dad, why did you let me sleep?”
    “It’s good for you—you were up all night.”
    “But—what time is it?”
    “Five thirty. I have to admit I’m feeling robbed. I was fully prepared for a father-daughter chat, but you were so quiet at first I thought I should leave you be. Then I realized you were out. Well, sleep’s the best thing, anyway.”
    She remembered only a little—the trees whizzing by, dark green against the snow, until it had all blurred as she’d given in to sleep. “Yeah, well, I seem to be zoning out a lot lately. Sorry.” Stretching her arms over her head as far as she could, Cameryn quickly realized they were already stopped outside the plain red brick Medical Examiner’s Building. The station wagon’s engine clacked and wheezed as they waited in front of the metal garage door. The building’s flat roof supported a thick layer of snow. Icicles hung off the gutter in a row that looked like jagged glass. Her father tapped the horn, a signal for Ben to open up.
    The side of her cheek felt numb and there was a kink in her neck. As she shook off the grogginess of sleep she felt the sensation of her heart dropping through her, resting like a stone in the bottom of her belly. Justin. The fight.
    Her father tapped the horn again and a moment later the door began to roll into the ceiling, revealing Ben’s legs dressed in blood-splattered green scrubs. He waved them in.
    “Man, your engine sounds bad,” Ben said as Cameryn and her father got out of the station wagon. “You better get your hearse in for a tune-up.”
    “I know, I know, it’s just that it’s getting harder and harder to find parts for a car this old.” Patrick patted the car’s hood fondly. “But it just keeps on going. And you can’t fit a body into any old car—these station wagons were almost made for the job. So where are we heading, Ben, to the office or the morgue?”
    Ben looked uncomfortable. His hand tugged at his collar as he said, “Well, here’s the thing. You know how I do all the dirty work around here? Moore asked me to ask you if it’s okay if he talks to your girl all by himself—just for a minute. He wants her to go to his office.”
    Her father looked stunned. “Why would he want to do that? I’m the coroner.”
    Ben shrugged. “Moore says it’s a personal matter between him and Cammie. Hey, don’t shoot me, I’m only the messenger.”
    She could tell that her father was about to say no. Leaning back on his heels, he hooked his thumbs into his jacket pockets and frowned, but Ben said in his pleasing, mellow voice, “Dr. Moore wants you and me to go on to Histology. It’s just for a little while.”
    Cameryn tried to tamp down the irritation that surged inside her. It was happening all over again. Other people, male people, were talking about her and making decisions for her. “I’ll go talk to Dr.