206 Bones: A Novel (A Temperance Brennan Novel)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
#1 New York Times bestselling author Kathy Reichs delivers another “outstanding” book (Publishers Weekly) in her “cleverly plotted” (The New York Times) Temperance Brennan series, the inspiration for the hit FOX television series Bones.
There are 206 bones in the human body. Forensic anthropologists know them intimately, can use them to reconstruct every kind of violent end. When Tempe finds herself regaining consciousness in some kind of very small, very dark, very cold enclosed space—bound, hands to feet—Tempe begins slowly to reconstruct...
Tempe and Lieutenant Ryan had accompanied the recently discovered remains of a missing heiress from Montreal to the Chicago morgue. Suddenly, Tempe was accused of mishandling the autopsy—and the case. Back in Montreal, the corpse of a second elderly woman was found in the woods, and then a third. Seamlessly weaving between Tempe’s present-tense terror as she’s held captive and her memory of the cases of these murdered women, Reichs reveals the incredible devastation that would occur if a forensic colleague sabotaged work in the lab. The chemistry between Tempe and Ryan intensifies as this complex, riveting tale unfolds, proving once again, that Reichs is the dominant talent in forensic mystery writing.
check for unknowns fitting Laszlo Tot’s description. He promised to call back shortly. I was disconnecting when Ryan entered the kitchen via the mudroom. His face was flushed and he was wearing Reeboks, gloves, a neck scarf, and sweats. “My kind of town, Chicago is”—Ryan uncoiled and removed the muffler and finished with modified lyrics—“melting fast.” “You’ve been running?” “Just five kilometers.” Given the tanker of wine consumed the previous evening, and I don’t mean tankard, Ryan
than I’d visualized. Small comfort. Of less comfort was the fact that the masonry was frustratingly even. I’d gone perhaps eight feet when my fingers picked out a malaligned brick protruding at a height of approximately eighteen inches. The brick’s outer edge felt promisingly sharp. I maneuvered into a hunched semi-sit and pushed down on the brick’s upper surface. The mortar held firm. “As you were, soldier!” God Almighty. I was talking to stonework. By flopping to my side and drawing my
day’s events, I was gripping the brink with my toes. But Claudel was right. My question was stupid. That, too, made me cranky. “Did you detect anything to suggest Keiser could have died elsewhere?” “She was lying facedown. Contact with the floor preserved flesh on the chest and belly. Pooling looked right.” Claudel referred to the third of death’s Triple Crown. Rigor mortis: stiffening in the muscles. Algor mortis: cooling of the tissues. Livor mortis: pooling on the “down” side. Here’s
place when Ryan called. The man’s network makes the CIA look amateur. Nifty if you need info. Annoying when you’re the gossip traded. I assured Ryan I was fine. “You think it’s this dickhead neighbor of yours?” “I don’t know.” “Who else have you pissed off?” I used silence as an answer. “You there?” “I’m here.” “Got any theories?” “Kids with fireworks.” “Got any other theories?” I reminded him of the letter, and granted that maybe, just maybe, he could be right concerning Edward
wanting to kill me?” “He says Briel danced around the subject, but that her meaning was clear. Says she constantly mentioned things would go smoother without you. Hinted it would be nice if you went away and never came back.” “How did you find me?” “Around eleven, I called your condo and your cell, got no answer. I found that odd, since you’d just told me you planned to stay home with the cat. After phoning repeatedly, I began to worry that you were sick again, so I decided to swing by your