#Spotlight :: The Devil's Bidding by P. L. Doss

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It's almost Thanksgiving, and Hollis Joplin, a death investigator for the Milton County ME's Office in Atlanta, is looking forward to the holiday season, not to mention his wedding to Carrie Salinger in the spring. But his rare sense of optimism is shattered one morning when he receives what appears to be a set of crime scene photos. The victim turns out to be a former girlfriend, and her fiancé, a prominent black attorney, becomes the chief suspect. The dead woman's father, a retired Marine Corps general, wants Joplin to be part of the investigation. Concerned that the person who sent him the photos is trying to implicate him in the murder, and even more concerned the murderer may be someone very close to him, he agrees.

Meanwhile, hotshot lawyer Tom Halloran, sometime friend and occasional bane of Joplin's existence, becomes involved in the appeal of a TV star's conviction for murdering his wife. The case is eerily similar to Joplin's: The actor is black, his dead wife was white, and both victims were strangled. Reluctantly, as always, Joplin and Halloran begin to share information.

Against a backdrop of racial tensions in a community that's becoming polarized by newspaper headlines describing a "modern-day Othello," they focus on whether the murders were committed by the same person. When more deaths occur, the answer seems clear—but as both men have discovered in the past, appearances can be deceiving, and villainy comes disguised in many forms.

Read an Excerpt from The Devil's Bidding

PROLOGUE

Cautiously, the cat crept out from under the bed. it had been a long time since the frightening sounds that had caused her to hide had stopped, but she was still wary. It was dark now, the pale light from the street showing only shadows, but that was no problem for her. She padded out into the hall, head turning, eyes darting, but saw no one. The kitchen was also dark, but she saw a shape on the floor, and, as she got closer, breathed in a scent that was familiar and comforting.

The cat began to head-bump the figure, but there was no response. No petting of her head or tickling behind her ear. She tried again, and when nothing happened, moved on to the utility room where her litter box and food were kept. There was only dry food for her, a disappointment, but she was hungry and ate most of it.

After using the litter box, she returned to the figure on the floor. More head-butting still brought no response, so she curled up and put her head on her owner’s back, then closed her eyes. The usual warmth she expected wasn’t there, but it didn’t occur to her to wonder why.

CHAPTER ONE

The first thing Hollis Joplin did when he got to the Milton County Medical Examiner’s Office that morning, after Sherika had handed him a manila envelope delivered by FedEx, was head to the break room for coffee. He’d shared a cup with Carrie earlier, but it hadn’t been quite enough caffeine after a late, somewhat booze-filled Friday evening at Davio’s. Carrie had then gone back to bed. As an assistant ME, she had weekend duty just once a month, but Joplin worked rotating shifts with the other death investiga- tors, and he was on for Saturday.

Making a mental note to turn down a second one of Gerry’s potent dirty Martinis next time, Joplin shoved the envelope under his arm and grabbed a mug from the counter. He filled it from the large urn next to the micro- wave, hoping Sarah Petersen, his boss, had been the one to make the coffee that morning. She never seemed to make it either too weak or too strong, yet another reason she was held in high esteem by all the investigators. The pathologists, too, for that matter. Since becoming Chief Investigator eigh- teen months ago, she’d turned the unit into a well-oiled machine, leading by example whenever possible. Which meant getting to the office before anyone else and making sure she knew what the people under her needed to do their jobs.

Like decent coffee.

Joplin had been summoned to a vehicular homicide on 400 before he left the condominium he shared with Carrie, so it was after nine-thirty by the time he got to his cubicle. He’d intended to get started on his report of the scene, but decided to open the envelope first. Setting his mug on the desk, he sat down and slit the flap with a pen knife he kept in a side drawer. Inside were several eight-by-ten photographs.

The first picture was of a front door, black, with two potted plants on either side. The next showed a narrow entry hall that held only a rug and  a chest of some kind, with a still-life painting of pears over it. The third picture was of a kitchen. The warm yellow walls held a pot rack and several prints of various herbs; stainless appliances and gray granite countertops made a nice contrast to them. Joplin was beginning to wonder if some real- tor had heard that he and Carrie were thinking of buying a house after their upcoming wedding, when he was stopped short by the next photo.

It was of a woman lying face-down on the kitchen floor. Her head was turned to the side, but her long brown hair covered her face. She was wearing jeans and a black, fitted jacket, but her feet were bare. Joplin moved quickly to the next photo, which showed the woman from a different angle. Whoever had taken it had stood or knelt near her head this time. Two more photos were close-ups of the woman’s hands, which were on either side of her, palms down, as if she’d fallen and had tried to get up. There was a wide silver ring on the third finger of her right hand and a diamond ring on the third finger of her left hand. The nails were pink and looked professionally manicured.

He was certain she was dead.


About the Author:

While completing a Master of Science degree in Criminal Justice at Georgia State University in 1987, P. L. Doss served a graduate internship at the Fulton County Medical Examiner’s Office. Assigned to the investigative division, she discovered how important the duties of the investigators were in helping the forensic pathologists determine cause and manner of death. She was also able to observe many autopsies—an experience that proved to be invaluable in toughening her up for her career in law enforcement, first as a volunteer analyst in the Missing Children’s Information Center at the Georgia Bureau of Investigation, and then as a probation officer and supervisor of officers at the Georgia Department of Corrections. She currently lives in the North Georgia mountains with her husband and cat and is working on a new book outside the Joplin/Halloran series.
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