The Dying Breath: A Forensic Mystery

take packages from a stranger, and who’d be dumb enough to say yes if they actually did? But Moore told me to grill everyone, so that’s what I’m doing.” She leaned forward, and Cameryn noticed that Amber lined her mouth outside the edges. A glossy lipstick glittered on lips painted the color of maple sugar. “Do you even know who we got back there?” Amber gave Justin a cloying look. She was talking to him directly while simultaneously erasing Cameryn.
    “Not a clue,” Justin replied.
    But Amber was all smiles. “You’ll see.” Another knowing look, this time accompanied by a wink as she waved them toward the swinging doors. “One thing’s for sure, when this gets out, the paparazzi are gonna go wild,” she called after them.
    The last words cut in and out as the door swung behind them and Cameryn stopped just beyond their reach. Crossing her arms, she stared up at Justin and hissed, “Little friend?”
    Justin gave a wicked, faunlike grin, his eyebrows arching into his too-long hair. “Amber’s all right.”
    “I’m sure you think so, cowboy .”
    He cocked his head and she felt her heart kick sideways. Get a grip, she told herself. She was about to do an autopsy and she had no business musing over the color of Justin’s irises, water mixed with sky.
    “Is something wrong?” he asked.
    “No! It’s just that Amber mentioned the word paparazzi . Cases that have a lot of media attention are always harder,” she lied, aware of how much she disliked Amber and her glossy lips. “Plus, I don’t know of any celebrities who live in Durango.”
    “There’s some festival going on in Telluride—I think it’s the TelluVision Showcase, or something like that. Telluride’s only a couple of hours away. But . . . aren’t you the one who said the case was time sensitive?”
    “What?”
    “You’re loitering.” He grinned at her in a way that made heat creep up her face. “You chewed out poor Amber and now you’re the one standing in the hallway. I could write you up for that.”
    “You are such a punk.” Walking quickly, she charged ahead of him to the autopsy room, but before she could push through he grabbed her hand.
    “I could let you off for good behavior,” he teased. “All you have to do is—”
    But whatever he was about to say was interrupted by a low rumble coming from inside the autopsy suite. “Miss Mahoney, Deputy Crowley—enough with the happy chatter. Get in here. Now !” The voice belonged to Dr. Moore. His tone was even more cantankerous than usual.
    “I’ll review your case later,” Justin whispered as he thrust open the door.
    The room was large, as big as five of her classrooms, with gleaming chrome and lights that droned like insects in a swamp. The floor, laid with green and white tile, had been scrubbed so often the shine had dulled. Cameryn knew that at times bodies leaked fluid through their body bags to leave trails across the floor. As always the odor was stronger in here, the last traces of life still discernible beneath the fumes of bleach. Huddled around an autopsy table were Dr. Moore; his assistant, Ben; Sheriff Jacobs; and Cameryn’s father, Patrick. They all turned to stare as Cameryn and Justin entered the room.
    “Well, I’m glad you two finally made it,” her father said. Patrick’s eyes seemed to linger on Justin a brief moment before flicking away. It was hard to discern what he was thinking because the mask made his expression inscrutable.
    “This case will require your full concentration,” said Dr. Moore. The doctor, still bent over the body, wore thick gloves and a heavy plastic apron over pale scrubs. His morgue shoes, a pair of black high-tops with Velcro instead of laces, were shiny with blood. Half-moon reading glasses perched on the bridge of his paper mask, magnifying his eyes so that they seemed owl-like; a ring of white hair haloed his balding head. Lately, Cameryn had seen a difference in him. His bullfrog neck had thinned, while his round, apple-shaped torso had diminished so that it resembled a deflated ball. But the voice sounded as petulant as ever.
    “Grab the clipboard next to the histology samples, Deputy. I’m going to need everyone on this.”
    “Yes, sir,” Justin said as he quickly moved toward a set of cupboards located by the walk-in refrigerator.
    “And now for you.” Dr. Moore lasered in on Cameryn. “The sheriff has brought me up to speed concerning your shenanigans at Leather Ed’s. I’m