Blood lure

This was one of those times.

Carolyn Van Slyke's murder was very probably going to slip through the cracks, along with a staggering number of other homicides that would never be solved.

"What I'd like you to do," Harry said, "is keep at it for a while. Joan will be up there for another five days. I can't see any point in you turning around and going right back unless you just want to for the DNA study. She's got Buck with her to fetch and carry, and that's more than she's used to. Why don't you make use of Joan's office and her computer? See if you can't dig up something, anythingthat might tie some of this together. If you don't come up with anything, you can consider yourself off my duty roster and go back to work for Joan."

"Sure," A

Chapter 20

The following morning A

With Ruick's blessing, she had taken copies of every report generated, every piece of evidence gathered and any and all lab reports returned. Joan's office was devoid of clean flat surfaces. Every inch of space was covered in folders, papers, pamphlets, books and pieces of bears gathered over the years. Knowing this well-feathered nest was as Joan wished it to be, the sprawling form dictated by her professional needs, A

Carolyn Van Slyke's autopsy report was to the right of the computer on a half-consumed bag of gummi bears. A

A

Having found Carolyn Van Slyke's work number and address in Seattle, A

Francine went so far as to offer A

She hung up and filched a gummi bear to cleanse her palate. She was not a prude. She'd enjoyed her share of fornication. Still, she was old-fashioned enough to feel adultery should be done on the sly, in great secrecy, and that it behooved the adulterers to feel ashamed and guilty. The libertine sentiments of Ms. Cuckor and the late Mrs. Van Slyke left her with a sense of sleaze that was unsettling. A

If she married again.Thinking that startled her. Several years earlier she'd finally extinguished the torch she carried for her first husband. It had never crossed her mind that she might marry again.

She ate another gummi bear and picked up the reports generated by a computer search on one William Adkins McCaskil, a.k.a. Bill McLellan, Bill Fetterman, and Will Skillman. It was a point in the man's favor that he had registered for a backcountry permit under his own name. That he'd registered for a permit at all suggested that either his pursuits were i

McCaskil had been born in Sarasota, Florida, on December 27, 1949, to Gerald and Suza

Co

A

The obvious route petering out, she began a people search starting with the Fettermans of Sarasota, Florida. Fortunately, Fetterman was not a common name. Only three turned up: Dr. Peter Fetterman, A. Fetterman, and Fetterman Marine supplies.

A. Fetterman was Amanda Fetterman, the spinster daughter of the owner of Fetterman Marine. A

Amanda knew no Bill or William. A

Peter Fetterman was a doctor of marine biology. The number A