Page 40 of Forever Dark
That was what she told herself as she locked the car and walked toward the side door.
Inside, the corridor smelled of bleach, cold stone, and old paper.The fluorescent lights gave off a faint buzz.A radiator knocked somewhere behind the wall, working hard and losing.
There was no reception desk.No clerk.No one to ask why she was there.
Selena followed the signs until she reached a frosted glass door marked DR.A.BLETHAN.
She knocked once.
A deep voice came from inside.“Aye.”
Selena opened the door.
The office was cramped, cluttered, and too warm.Filing cabinets lined one wall.Medical texts sat in stacks on the floor.A framed diploma hung crooked behind the desk, beside a faded photograph of a mountain ridge under snow.
The man behind the desk looked up from a folder.
Dr.Blethan was in his forties, broad-shouldered, with thick forearms, a dark beard trimmed close to his jaw, and hands that looked better suited to splitting logs than making clean incisions.His shirtsleeves were rolled to the elbow.A heavy watch sat on one wrist.He looked at Selena as if she had stepped into his kitchen without knocking.
“Can I help you, lass?”he said.
“Agent Selena Raven.I’m here to talk with you about Brenda Colter.”
He looked at her with suspicion.“I know who you are.”
She waited.
He didn’t stand.
Selena crossed the office and showed him her credentials.Blethan glanced at them, then at her face.
“Where’s Connor?”
“Working.”
Blethan closed the folder in front of him.“Then I’m not sure why you’re here.I prefer to have the sheriff’s department represented.”
Selena slipped her credentials back into her pocket.“I’m here to ask follow-up questions about your report.We don’t need Sheriff Chase for that.”
His mouth twitched, but not in amusement.“The sheriff’s office has a copy.So does your bureau.If you’ve got questions, put them through officiallocalchannels.”
“I am the official channel.”
“That so?”
Selena looked around the room.Her gaze moved across the overstuffed filing cabinets, the stack of folders on the floor, the coffee mug beside a tray of capped sample tubes, the coat hanging from a nail driven into the wall.
“Is this your normal setup?”she asked.
Blethan’s eyes narrowed.“Pardon?”
“Records on the floor.Samples beside your coffee.No reception.No visible sign-in procedure.I’m just wondering if this is how you run every suspicious death investigation.”
The warmth went out of his face.
“You come into my office and start that way?”
“You gave me obstruction.I’m giving you an observation.”
