The Breaking Point: A Body Farm Novel by Jefferson Bass

Author:Jefferson Bass [Bass, Jefferson]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Literature & Fiction, United States, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense, Crime, Suspense, Contemporary Fiction, Thrillers
ISBN: 9780062262332
Amazon: B00HPWTH0A
Barnesnoble: B00HPWTH0A
Publisher: William Morrow
Published: 2015-06-09T05:00:00+00:00

AN HOUR AFTER MY PHONE CALLS WITH THE DEAN and the legal eagle, I crossed the river, looped past the medical center, and threaded through the hospital employees’ parking lot. The lot was nearly full; the only unclaimed spaces were in the farthest corner, beside the high wooden fence surrounding the Body Farm. Those spots were almost never taken; they were the last resorts of hospital workers too late to be choosy—especially on hot summer days like this one, when the research facility gave new meaning—literal, eye-watering meaning—to the phrase “body odor.”

A single vehicle was parked in the normally vacant spots. But it was not parked between the lines, nose to the fence. Instead, it was parked parallel to the fence, straddling three parking places. It was a white Chevy Blazer labeled EYEWITNESS 4 NEWS, and on top of the Blazer was a tripod, and on top of the tripod was a video camera, and peering through the viewfinder was the cameraman from Channel 4. Perched beside him, looking almost comically incongruous in her tailored suit and power pumps, was my nemesis, Athena Demopoulos.

I stopped fifty yards away. Taking out my phone, I scrolled through my contacts to the number of the medical center police and pressed “call.” “Dis-patch,” answered a woman with an East Tennessee twang.

“This is Dr. Brockton,” I said. “There’s a television news crew parked outside the Body Farm. They’re up on top of their car with a video camera.”

“Yes, sir,” said the dispatcher, and to my surprise, she chuckled. “Emmett said he’d be sleeping on the sofa for a week if his wife saw him helping that gal get up there.”

“Emmett? Who’s Emmett? What are you talking about?”

“Emmett. Officer Edmonds. He had to boost that lady reporter up. It took a push to the tush, if you know what I mean.”

“Wait,” I said. “You’re telling me that one of your officers has already seen them? And helped them?”

“Well, yes, sir,” she said, suddenly sounding nervous. “She—the lady—she said you were on your way. Told them to meet you here. She told him you’d got snagged on a phone call with the chancellor or some other muckety-muck, but you said to go ahead and get started, and you’d be right there.” She paused. “Are you . . . not there?”

“I am here,” I said. “Would you please radio Officer Friendly and ask him to come right back?”

“Sir?”

“I need Emmett to escort his new girlfriend off the premises.”

“But she said—”

“I don’t give a damn what she said,” I snapped. “It’s not true. I didn’t tell them to meet me here, and I certainly don’t want them looking over my fence with a TV camera.”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir. I’ll send him right away.”

“Thank you.”

I hung up and pulled forward, tucking in behind the Blazer. Athena Demopoulos glanced my way, then muttered to her cameraman, who kept his eye glued to the viewfinder. As I was getting out, I heard the wail of a siren, and a police cruiser lurched to a screeching stop beside the Blazer.

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