Killing Hour - Lisa Gardner [69]
He hung up the phone, then met their expectant gazes. “Kathy’s the botanist with Shenandoah National Park. She’s more familiar with the trees in that area and if anyone knows about the gray birch, it’s her. Unfortunately, she’s out in the field right now.”
“For how long?” Mac demanded to know.
“Four days.”
“We don’t have four days!”
Ray held up a hand. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Kind of got that. Give her until around noon. Come lunch, she’ll check messages, give me a call, and then I can give you a call. Noon’s only four hours away.”
“Four hours can be a long time,” Mac said grimly.
“What can I say? It’s not easy when you only have a picture of a leaf.”
“I have a question,” Kimberly spoke up. “From all of your various studies . . . Is there any connection between Virginia and Hawaii?”
“Virginia and Hawaii?”
“Yes.”
“Huh. Hell if I know. From a plant perspective, I can’t think of a thing. Hawaii’s kind of tropical, you know. And Virginia isn’t. Well, except for this week, of course. We’re always prepared to make an exception.”
“No other way they might be related?” Kimberly prodded.
Ray did the nose wiggle again. “You might ask a geologist. We have mountains, they have mountains. We have Chesapeake Bay with its multitude of barrier islands, which might be similar to their barrier islands. But from a flora and fauna perspective, I don’t see a relationship.”
“And where in this building might we find a geologist?”
“We don’t have geologists, you’d have to go to Reston. Wait!” He read her expression and immediately held up a hand. “I know, I know, you don’t have time for Reston. Okay . . . Jennifer York. She’s one of our core samplers, and I believe she has a background in geology.”
“Where’s her office?”
“Other side of the building, third office on the left.”
“Okay.” She turned toward Mac, who was looking at her with a puzzled expression. “You heard the man,” she said crisply, “let’s go find a geologist.”
CHAPTER 19
Richmond, Virginia
8:31 A.M.
Temperature: 87 degrees
“WHY ARE WE ASKING ABOUT HAWAII?” Mac asked thirty seconds later when they were back in the halls of the USGS building.
“Because the ME’s assistant said the victim had a travel brochure for Hawaii in her purse.”
He grabbed her arm and they both came to a sudden halt. Mac looked cool. She was already breathing hard and gazing with lethal intent at his fingers on her wrist.
“I don’t recall you mentionin’ that yesterday,” he said ominously.
“I didn’t think of it. The brochure was something the ME’s assistant brought up in passing and I took it in kind. But then last night, I remembered what you said. That for some of the victims, the man put things in their purses—a business card, a cocktail napkin with a name. And that got me wondering.”
Mac slowly released her. “Anything else you remembered last night?”
“Yes. I remembered to strap on my knife.”
He grinned. “Where is it this time? Ankle? Inside of a thigh? I swear it’s the first thing I thought when I saw you this morning. So few clothes and yet somewhere on that lean little body, I know there rests a three-inch blade. I swear, honey, I never met a woman who could make a man think of knives quite the way you do.”
Mac leaned a little closer. He smelled of soap again. Clean, strong. Kimberly instantly took a small step back. Funny how it felt as if all the air had just been sucked from her lungs.
“If I’m a good boy,” Mac murmured softly, “do I get to search you later? Or would you prefer it if I were bad?”
“Hey. Hey, hey, hey.” Kimberly finally found her bearings, getting her hands up and placing them firmly between them. “I am not flirting with you!”
“Of course not.”
“Now, what is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re not the type for a casual social gesture, Kimberly. I know that. Nah, with you, I imagine it would be very serious.” He nodded at her, his