Chris was too surprised to make a conscious decision. "Sure," he said. "But what's going on? Are you investigating something? Are you investigating me?"

"Not you."

"Someone I know?"

Agent Morse's eyes didn't waver. "Yes."

"Who?"

"I can't tell you that yet. I may tell you at the end of this conversation. Right now I'm going to tell you a story. A quick story. Will you sit down, Doctor?"

Chris sat on the short stool he used in the examining room. "Are you really from North Carolina? Or is that just a cover?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You talk like a Yankee, but I hear Mississippi underneath."

Agent Morse smiled, or gave him what passed for a smile with her-a slight widening of her taut lips. "You have good ears. I grew up in Jackson. But I'm based in Charlotte, North Carolina, now."

He was glad to have his intuition confirmed. "Please go on with your story."

She sat on the chair where her handbag had been, crossed her legs, and regarded him coolly. "Five weeks ago, my sister died of a brain hemorrhage. This happened at University Hospital in Jackson."

"I'm sorry."

Agent Morse nodded as though she were past it, but Chris saw held-in emotion behind her eyes. "Her death was sudden and unexpected, but before she died, she told me something that sounded crazy to me."

"What?"

"She told me she'd been murdered."

He wasn't sure he understood. "You mean she told you someone had murdered her?"

"Exactly. Her husband, to be specific."

Chris thought about this for a while. "What did the autopsy show?"

"A fatal blood clot on the left side of the brain, near the brain stem."