Bloodstream

Cover Bloodstream
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Genres: Fiction
Her next question came out softly tentative: “So the remains are quite old?”“A hundred years, more or less.”She released a deep breath. Was it Lincoln’s imagination or did the tension suddenly melt from her silhouette? She seemed to fail almost limp with relief, her head tilting back against the neck rest. “A hundred years,” she said. “Then it’s nothing to worry about. It’s not from—”“No. It’s unrelated.”She gazed ahead, at the congealing darkness. “Still, it’s such a strange coincidence, isn’t it? That very same part of the lake.. .“ She paused. “I wonder if it happened in the fall.”“People die every day, Judge Keating. A century’s worth of skeletons—they all have to be buried somewhere.”“I heard there was a hatchet mark on one of the thigh bones.”“That’s true.”“It will have people wondering. Remembering.”Lincoln heard the woman’s fear, and he wanted to reassure her, but could not bring himself to make physical contact.
Bloodstream
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