Dead Week (A Cassandra Sato Mystery Book 2) by Kelly Brakenhoff

Author:Kelly Brakenhoff [Brakenhoff, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Emerald Prairie Press
Published: 2019-12-10T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Cassandra had made it back to Carson, showered, and was toweling off her hair when she got a text from Andy Summers.

“Are you okay?”

Wrapping the towel around her head, she replied, “Yes, fine. What’s wrong?”

He texted, “I stopped by your office, but you weren’t there.”

She smiled a little. Her head ached and no matter how many times she brushed her teeth, Cassandra couldn’t shake the hungover feeling that came with such a short night of interrupted sleep.

“No stalkers or vandals here. Just coming in late to work. Thanks for checking on me.” Not only did she have friends who needed her, she had other friends who cared enough to worry about her absence.

Cassandra had already called her office and left a voicemail about being late, so she decided to follow her normal yoga routine and eat a full breakfast before going in to work.

* * *

One benefit to arriving late was that she didn’t get immediately swept away by whatever drama occurred in the office. George her officemate had to pick up her slack for a change instead of the other way around.

Now that Dr. Winters was off her naughty list, Cassandra was out of ideas for how Rachel got hurt.

She sent an email to Ibrahim Kouri, the facilities guy who kept track of the stray animals asking what kind of vet services they received, how they were fed, and whether any prior complaints had been filed. She hadn’t heard of anyone being bitten. But since the one thing Rachel had remembered was a barking dog, it was worth double checking.

Derek Swanson’s article had morphed into another news cycle of criticism. Cassandra called Cinda to get the short version instead of chasing down individual social media rabbit holes.

“Hey girlfriend! I was just thinking about you. I got you a present.”

A photo appeared on Cassandra’s phone screen. What did she need an oven mitt with a sharp edge thingy at the end for? “It’s not my birthday. You shouldn’t have.” Cassandra zoomed in on the photo. Squinting, she gave up after a few seconds. “No, really. You shouldn’t have.”

A siren sounded faintly in the distance.

“It’s for your car. You scrape ice off your car windshield, but your hand stays toasty warm inside.” Cinda sounded very pleased with herself. “Just tuck it under your front seat. Trust me, you’ll need it. Did you see the forecast?”

“Thanks. Snow on Saturday, right? Hey, I called to ask what people are saying online about Dr. Winters’ comment to the Swanson article. I haven’t seen any more news stories. Is there anything else I need to worry about?”

“I’ve only read the main threads on Facebook and Twitter where the article was shared. Some well-wishers wanted permission to set up crowdfunded donations to cover Rachel’s medical expenses. Several crackpots said they’d fathered Patty Nagle and were willing to give a sperm sample. Ewwww. One couple claiming to be former Morton students remembered Susan Peters and offered to contribute to a memorial scholarship in her honor. I’ll send you their names.

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