“We had a late departure from Charles de Gaulle. Something about extra security checks. The airlines are so paranoid, we were lucky just to get off the ground three hours late.”

“So your departure was three hours delayed.”

“I just told you that.”

“What time did you land?”

“I don’t know. About eight thirty.”

“It took you an hour and a half to get home from Logan?”

“My suitcase didn’t show up. I had to file a claims form with Air France.” Maura stopped, suddenly at her limit. “Look, goddamn it, what is this all about? Before I answer any more questions, I have a right to know. Are you accusing me of something?”

“No, Doc. We’re not accusing you of anything. We’re just trying to figure out the time frame.”

“Time frame for what?”

Frost said, “Have you received any threats, Dr. Isles?”

She looked at him in bewilderment. “What?”

“Do you know anyone who might have reason to hurt you?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

Maura gave a frustrated laugh. “Well, is anyone ever sure?”

“You must have had a few cases in court where your testimony pissed off someone,” said Rizzoli.

“Only if they’re pissed off by the truth.”

“You’ve made enemies in court. Perps you’ve helped convict.”

“I’m sure you have too, Jane. Just by doing your job.”

“Have you received any specific threats? Any letters or phone calls?”

“My phone number’s unlisted. And Louise never gives out my address.”

“What about letters sent to you at the medical examiner’s office?”

“There’s been the occasional weird letter. We all get them.”

“Weird?”

“People writing about space aliens or conspiracies. Or accusing us of trying to cover up the truth about an autopsy. We just put those letters in the screwball file. Unless there’s an overt threat, in which case we refer it to the police.”