Rising late in the morning, Millie took her time eating breakfast and drinking her coffee. After a long shower, she got dressed and sat in front of her computer. That’s when she remembered she’d agreed to help Brody find the car logo imprinted into Chris’s skin.

She had no idea where to start. Clicking on the internet, she did a quick search for car logos. She scrolled through the photos of logos she recognized as standard car brands. Nothing looked even remotely similar to the imprint on the photograph.

Maybe she needed a better impression of the logo. The photo only showed a small corner clearly. With so little to go on, it would be nice if she could see the impression more clearly.

She stood and grabbed her jacket. “Bye Bucky,” she said, giving her big golden retriever a scratch behind the ears.

Out in the sunshine, she wrapped her arms around herself. It was getting colder every day. She’d need a new coat soon. Having come up from San Francisco, she hadn’t needed more than a fleece jacket and a raincoat. The Montana winter would be far different.

Taking the narrow road into town from the lodge, she watched as she passed the tall pine trees outside her window. The world was so peaceful up here. Too bad the peace had been broken by the emergence of shifter hate groups.

Hatred of shifters seemed to pervade every level of society: rich and poor, old and young, and every race. Everyone was affected by the shifters coming out.

Rural towns like this one had a high shifter population because shifters enjoyed being close to the natural environment. That meant that small towns were experiencing more crime and murder than they ever had before.

Small sheriff’s departments and country doctors like Millie had been put in charge of crimes that usually happened in larger cities that had much more money and support.

Doing an autopsy in a murder investigation was not her usual job. As an accomplished surgeon and emergency room doctor, Millie spent most of her time moving quickly from one critical patient to the next.

But that was all over now. She had to leave the past behind her or she’d lose her mind. There was a new challenge now: catching the person who pushed Chris off the cliff.

Thinking about her old life just made her depressed. Her termination as lead surgeon at the biggest hospital in San Francisco had been unjust and wrong, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

She pulled into the hospital and made her way to the morgue, stopping briefly at the nurses’ station to say hello to the nurses on duty.

“I thought you had the day off,” Florence said. The plump white-haired grandmother rolled over in her office chair.

“I just came down to take another look at the body of Chris Whitney. The sheriff’s department suspects foul play.”

“Everyone loved Chris. Even if he was a shifter. He was a sweet kid. Played football with my grandson in high school.”

“This whole thing is making people irrational.”

“When they came out to the public, I thought it was a joke. But it turned out they weren’t. It took a few weeks to come to terms with it. I thought maybe they were dangerous. But then I found out a lot of my friends and neighbors had been shifters all along. I just had to accept it.”

“Too bad more people don’t have that attitude.”

“You know what people are like. They fear what they don’t understand.”

“I know. It’s sad. Well, I’ve got to get into the morgue and get a better picture of that imprint on Chris’s stomach.”

“I hope they find the killer soon. Wouldn’t want to lose another sweet young man like Chris.”

“Me too.”

Millie continued to the end of the hallway and took the stairs down into the hospital’s tiny morgue. There were only five refrigerator spaces. Millie doubted they’d ever all been used at once.

She went to the refrigerator where Chris’s body had been stored and pulled it open. Looking inside, her mouth dropped in confusion. It was empty.

Empty.

Then she checked the sign-in sheet again to make sure this was supposed to have Chris in it. Apparently, this was the one. She bent down and stared in there. Then she stood, putting her hand on her hip.

Was she losing her mind? A lot had changed in the last few months but she’d never been so confused as to lose a body. Turning around, she tried to make sense of what was happening.

There were no records of Chris Whitney being released. All the paperwork indicated he should still be there. After closing the refrigerator, she hurried back upstairs to Florence.

“Has Chris Whitney’s family claimed his body?” she asked the nurse.

“No. He was being held because of the crime investigation.”

“The body isn’t down there,” Millie said flatly.

“What?”

“It isn’t there. Did another doctor take it out for some reason?”

“No, no one.”

“Can you check the schedules? Because this doesn’t make any sense.”

Florence quickly opened the computer schedule and checked all the comings and goings into the morgue.

“It should be there,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “There is no record of the body being removed.”

“I’m calling the sheriff’s department,” Millie said, walking out to the waiting room to dial her cell phone.

She had Brody’s personal line. Her fingers shook as she dialed his number and she wasn’t sure if it was because she’d found the body of a possible murder victim missing or because she was excited about talking to the blue-eyed blond warden.

“This is Brody,” his deep voice said on the other side of the line.

“Hi. Millie Tanner. The doctor.”

“I remember you Millie,” he said in a sensual drawl. Millie almost lost track of what she’d been doing and melted at his words.

“I’m calling from the hospital,” she said, getting a handle on herself. “The body of Chris Whitney is missing. There is no record of the body being moved or claimed.”

“I’ll be right there,” he said, hanging up the phone.

Millie looked down at her cell, a flood of confusing emotions playing in her heart and mind. First things first. They had to deal with the missing body.