Iced!: The 2007 Journal of Nick Fitzmorgan Read Online Free Page A

tons about human anatomy. Like the depth of flesh on the average
     face — and the way the muscles, wrinkles, and fat can change someone’s appearance. The trickiest parts are soft tissue areas
     like the eyes, nose, and mouth, where there aren’t any bones to help guide you.

    As I worked, I thanked my lucky stars that this skull was a replica. I wouldn’t have to use maggots to clean the flesh from
     the skull before starting work (like one of my professors made us do!). These bugs chow down the remaining tissue on a skull
     and leave it sparkling clean — but a maggot is the one thing that can gross me out!
    Some people I know use computer tomography (CT) scans instead of clay to build a face. The computer does lots of the work
     for you by laying down different faces over a picture of the skull until it come across one that looks right. It’s not as
     messy and won’t damage a skull. But the programmer still has to guess which faces to use and how to form soft tissue areas,
     so I stick with clay —

    WITH THE PEGS IN PLACE, I COULD START LAYING ON CLAY.
    Click!
    I froze at the sound. This “click” was something I had heard thousands of times since I moved into this house. It was the
     sound of the front door closing. But very softly. As if someone were trying to stay undetected.
    I realized with a jolt that I had forgotten to relock the front door. Anyone could have walked in—including the strange guy
     who shouted gibberish and threw the human skull at me.
    The silence of the house filled my ears until it was almost unbearably loud.
    I was just starting to think that I had imagined the click when I heard a very quiet scuffle, like the soles of someone’s
     shoes rubbing against the marble of the front hall.
    There was definitely someone in the house.
    Silently rubbing the clay off my hands, I thought about calling out to see if it was Dad … but why would he be sneaking around?
     I glanced at the videophone. It was at the far side of the office away from the door.
    If I darted for the phone, I’d be cornered up against the old garage door. I wouldn’t be able to escape if someone came into
     the office.
    Better to sprint out of the office and try to make it to the kitchen phone. There was a backdoor in the kitchen, so I wouldn’t
     be trapped. Taking a deep breath, I bolted through the office door and sprinted toward the kitchen.
    Heavy footsteps pounded down the hall behind me. I was being chased! Suddenly I felt my legs being swept out from under me.
     It was an expert move—but I managed to stick out my hand and catch myself on the wall. I kept my balance.
    But it was clear I wasn’t going to get away from the intruder. It was time to put some of Judge’s training to work. I executed
     a quick turn and took a defensive stance.
    And found Maura, the pilot, looking at me with that same stony expression.
    “Hey!” I shouted. “What are you doing creeping around my house?”
    “You left the front door open.”
    I felt myself flush. She was right. I had made a stupid mistake, especially since I had just come back from three weeks of
     detective training. “What? Do you go around tripping everyone who leaves a door open?” I demanded.
    She calmly crossed her arms. “Judge Pinkerton told me to return and said that there might be trouble. I wasn’t sure who you
     were or if you might be armed. I’m here to take charge of the situation.”

    MAURA PLANNED TO “TAKE CHARGE”!
    “If by ‘take charge’ you mean ‘stay out of my way so I can find my dad,’ then sure, I guess that would work.”
    “Whatever you say,” she said coolly.
    “Come on,” I retorted. “I have to get back to work.”

    THE RECONSTRUCTED FACE LOOKED FAMILIAR—BUT WHY?

June 2, 2007
7:30 PM
    For the next three hours, I worked on reconstructing the face over the skull. Maura had made a sweep through the house—checking to make sure that there were no
     intruders or a ransom note that I had missed. But, like me, she