Too Much at Stake Read Online Free Page A

rubbed his chin. "All I've done is get the volunteers out of the building and lay down some strips of tape on the ground so we can go over every inch when you're done." He tipped his soggy fishing hat in her direction. "Strictly by the book."
    Ruth nodded. "I'll want to talk to LeSeur and whoever found the body. You know I like to be thorough. Where should I walk?" she asked, pulling out her little Canon and snapping pictures.
    Sal pointed to a path that had been taped off in the mud. Ruth nodded again and handed her overcoat to a deputy. She approached her job as she did everything in her life, with quiet consideration and astute methodology.
    Stopping a few feet from the canvas that still held the body, Ruth carefully looked at the way the body was lying halfway out of the large blue canvas. She snapped a few more photos at a different angle.
    "Hey, Salvadore, was the body rolled up or found like this?"
    "Rolled up. They found it when they tried to lift the canvas."
    "Dead weight, you might say," snickered one of the other deputies.
    Ruth turned slowly to look at him. "Kid, I know we haven't worked on any cases together before, so I will tell you this for the first and last time: I don't like 'dead' jokes, and I don't ever tolerate jokes about my dead clients. This person is somebody's child. Someone is probably worried about him right now. Every time you are in a situation like this, I want you to think, 'What if this was my dad? How would I like him to be treated?'" Shaking her head she turned back to the body. "Enough said. I won't mention it again."
    Already her focus was on the scene. Everyone waiting at the door faded away as Ruth's love of the mystery of life and death took over. She pressed the button on her handheld micro-recorder—a gift from Joel, who knew his wife so well—and spoke softly. "This is Ruth Epstein, and it's May 20 at 1:10 p.m., at the Chautauqua tent site outbuilding. The scene has been trampled by many volunteers, and currently the body is half out of a tent canvas. Detective Sal Burrows, the officer in charge from Bayfield County, has said it was found rolled up with all the canvases, which had been put away for the winter."
    She moved closer and squatted down.
I'm getting too old for this,
she thought as her knees creaked. She continued her spiel into the recorder. "The body is lying face down, but the position may have been altered because the workers tried to move the canvas. The building is unheated and appears to have been cold and dry all winter, which may have contributed to the body's lack of decomposition."
    Ruth took a pen from her pocket and used it to gently pull away part of the canvas. "Subject is male, about six feet tall and dressed in jeans, a sweater, and western-style boots. A cursory check shows no visible wounds." As she pulled away the rest of the canvas, the corpse moved slightly, causing the gathering behind her to gasp. Ruth didn't bother to look around; she just called out, "Sal, I need two guys to turn him over."
    Everyone instantly looked away or down at their feet, as if they were school children, thinking that if they didn't look up, the teacher wouldn't call on them.
    "For goodness sake!" Ruth said exasperatedly. "Sal, get some gloves out of my bag and come help me!"
    Sal sheepishly came forward and gently tugged on the canvas, but the body didn't move. Ruth stood up, turning off her recorder.
    "Okay," she said, "on the count of three. One ... two ... three." The body rolled over. "Thank you." She looked up and noticed Sal's white face. "Stay if you want," she said without rancor. "Just remember, if you start to faint, fall away from the body." To Sal's credit, he stayed.
    Ruth turned her recorder back on. "We have turned the body over, and there is obvious damage to the head, a striking blow, probably with a blunt object or tool. It looks like the nose is crushed in and also the left eye. No other discernable wounds that I can see. There is a large amount of