The Dying Breath: A Forensic Mystery

is, Leather Ed wasn’t just sparking bowls and pulling on blunts,” Justin interrupted. “Look, we found a little bit of coke, too.” He pointed to a picture of a box with small tinfoil squares shimmering at the bottom. “Those are called bindles. There’s cocaine inside each one of those little packages.”
    “He had cocaine! Why didn’t you tell me?” Cameryn demanded.
    “Because you’re not supposed to officially know about this case. We’re bending all the rules here. Anyway, it doesn’t seem like a big operation but might have been enough to generate some serious cash. Jacobs is tracing it down, trying to compare notes with the Durango squad. So far we don’t have much of anything. It’s still early in the investigation.”
    Cameryn narrowed her eyes. “Blunts? How do you know to call them ‘blunts’?”
    “It’s street slang. Baby Bhang, Gold Star, Acapulco Red, Mota, Bambalacha—I worked in New York, remember? And in case you’re wondering, I never inhaled.” He laughed, but the sound died in his throat when he realized he was the only one who seemed amused. Dr. Moore thrust out his lower jaw, which made him look more like a bulldog than ever. He grunted from somewhere inside the folds of his neck.
    His face shadowed with self-consciousness, Justin said, “That’s a joke, by the way.” He looked nervously from one set of eyes to another. “Seriously, I’m one of the good guys.”
    Ben’s face, though, broke into a big, knowing smile. “It’s cool, man. I lived in L.A. a while back. I’ve seen some crazy things, too.”
    “L.A., huh? So why’d you come all the way to Durango?”
    “Probably the same reason you landed in Silverton. I like the small-town life. But even in the big city people didn’t drown while they were sitting in a restaurant. This case is whack.”
    While the two of them talked, Cameryn picked up the photograph of Leather Ed in the chair. She concentrated on every detail, studying the shelves and the bit of curtain contained in the shot. Something was there. It tickled at the edge of her mind, taunting her, as though the idea was an image viewed through clouded glass. Every time she tried to grasp it, it seemed to slip away, the shadows shape-shifting, the thoughts turning more blurry. She bit the edge of her fingernail and asked, “Dr. Moore, did Leather Ed have pot or cocaine in his blood?”
    “I have no idea.” Dr. Moore spun a quarter turn in his chair so he was facing her. “The toxicology reports take time. They didn’t make their way to my desk today, but it’s possible the papers are still in the lab.” He took off his glasses, polished them on the hem of his lab coat, then hooked them over his ears. “I’ll go see if they’re finished. I’ve got the key.”
    “That would be great,” Cameryn answered.
    He stood and offered her his chair, and when she sat in it she felt the warmth from his body.
    “I told you before, Miss Mahoney, everything takes time. I’m willing to give you mine.”
    “Thanks, Dr. Moore. Really.”
    As the doctor disappeared through the door Cameryn pretended to be engrossed in the pictures, but inside she was bursting with gratitude for Dr. Moore. Time, the one thing he had so little of, was being freely donated to her when Dr. Moore could be home with his wife and children. Ben, too, had stayed, as had her father and, most important of all, Justin. The feeling of protection, of love, almost overwhelmed her. And yet there was a different kind of malignancy here, too. Kyle, as insidious as the cancer that was taking Dr. Moore’s life, needed to be cut out, and there was only one way to do it. She had to think her way through. The answer was there, if only she could see it.
    Once again, she picked up a photograph of Leather Ed sitting in the chair. The book was in his lap, held in place by skeletonized fingertips. Cameryn’s ponytail fell in the way so she flicked it behind her back. Turning the photograph every which way, she tried to read the print, but it was no use.
    “What is it, Cammie?” Ben asked. “You see something?”
    “I’m not sure. Justin? Do you remember what kind of book this was?”
    “I think it had something to do with plants. It’s still in the cooler.”
    “Is there any chance you could bring it in here so I could get a look at it? I think that says page 203.”
    Justin shrugged. “Sure, I can get it, but if you touch the book you’ll have to wear gloves. I’ll grab us a couple of