She was Dying Anyway

by P. D. Workman

  Having told Kenzie that he had a lot of other investigative work to do, Zachary decided he’d better do it. He didn’t want to get too far behind on his other cases, especially when he wasn’t getting paid to investigate Robin’s death. If he wanted to be able to pay for his apartment, he needed to be making money. So he went home and tackled the mountain of paperwork he’d been ignoring, did some background searches, and filled out some final reports and invoices on cases he had completed but not yet been paid for.

  After a couple of hours, his brain was feeling wrung out. Zachary pushed the pile of paper aside and logged into one of the social networking sites he had an account on. He told himself he was only there to work background on the subjects of his current investigations, but his eyes were caught by a red-flagged icon. A connection request. He clicked to see who it was, and stared at Rhys Salter’s name and photo.

  It would seem that Rhys was a little more communicative than Gloria had led Zachary to believe. True, Zachary hadn’t asked whether he was active in any online communities, but he’d assumed by her description of his communication abilities that he wouldn’t be interested in messaging with friends.

  Zachary accepted the request, and once he was connected with Rhys, clicked through his profile to see when it had been set up, who he was friends with, and what he had posted on his timeline recently.

  Was it really Rhys? Or was it someone masquerading as him? Anyone connected with the case could have set up a dummy profile for the boy, working on the assumption that Zachary would want to talk to him, which of course, he did.

  Everything seemed to be real. The profile was a couple of years old, and most of the friends who had connected with Rhys were boys his age, some at the school Rhys would attend, and some international, who maybe he had met through online gaming or some other shared-interest group. He posted to his timeline sporadically. Nothing with verbose introductions. Usually, just sharing someone else’s material, sometimes with a keyword or a friend’s name.

  There was a colored tag on Rhys’s profile that indicated he was currently online. Whether he really was, or whether he had just left his phone or computer on with the app running, Zachary didn’t know. He clicked on the chat icon.

  “Hi, Rhys, thanks for connecting with me.”

  There was no immediate reply. Zachary left the tab loaded and switched to another site, forcing himself to work instead of staring at the chat window with Rhys waiting for an answer. When he allowed himself to switch back for a look, he saw a picture of a dog.

  “Is that you? He looks sad.” Zachary included an arrow pointing up to the basset hound, who did look worried and seriously depressed.

  Rhys responded faster this time, with a sad face emoticon.

  Zachary typed back, “I’m sorry about you losing your aunt.”

  There was another long delay. Zachary decided to tackle his paper filing, which he could do while keeping an eye on the screen so he would know the next time Rhys posted. When he finally did, it was a picture of the three women with Rhys. Vera, Gloria, and Robin smiling, arms around each other, with Rhys in front of them. He had been younger in the picture. Below the women’s chins. Now, he was probably at least as tall as his grandma, maybe taller than his mom too.

  Zachary studied the picture. As with the ones in the photo album Vera had shown him, Rhys was not smiling. Maybe he was incapable of smiling. Zachary could only imagine how many photographers might have told him to smile for a picture. And still, Rhys didn’t. He just stared at the camera. Though the women were all smiling, Zachary wasn’t sure they were genuine. Their stances looked awkward and separate, even though they were holding each other. Like they had just been posed that way and wouldn’t have touched each other otherwise.

  Or was he just reading what he wanted to into the picture?

  “She was pretty,” Zachary posted. “You must miss her a lot.”

  There was no response from Rhys.

  It was almost the end of the day when Bowman called Zachary back.

  “Running into some problems with these incident reports, Zach.”

  Zachary stopped what he was doing on the computer to give the phone his attention. “What kind of problems?” he asked, thinking of failed searches or database corruption. Bowman knew his way around the system and didn’t usually run into any problems.

  “I’ve got brass that don’t think you need access to these records.”

  “What? Campbell said I should have a look at them. He said he wouldn’t block them.”

  “Then it must be someone further up the food chain. I’m not sure who it is, but I’m getting a lot of push back. They want the death investigation closed and they want you shut down.”

  Zachary swore under his breath. Up until then, he’d been pleasantly surprised at how well the police investigation was going. He hadn’t dared expect that they would think he had enough to open an investigation in the first place, and then having Joshua Campbell running the investigation at the scene meant he could continue to investigate without fear of running into cops who thought they had the exclusive right to investigate and to use Zachary as a punching bag.

  “I should have known it was going too smoothly.”

  “Yeah, it should never be easy,” Bowman agreed with a laugh. “If it’s easy, we obviously aren’t doing our job. So what do you want to do?”

  “What are my options? Are you telling me you won’t give me the information? Were you told to turn down my request?”

  “I was told to put you off. Stall you. Make it take longer. If they can close the death investigation and stall you for long enough, it will all just go away.”

  “How can they shut down the death investigation? There hasn’t been a determination yet.”

  “They’re rushing the coroner. Don’t ask me, I’m not privy to all of the details. They’re saying if he hasn’t found any evidence of foul play, they should close the file.”

  “But all of the evidence hasn’t been processed. They’re still waiting on lab results.”

  “It’s obviously political, Zach. My guess is that the family has reached out to someone and is threatening to go to the media. Not everybody is of the opinion that there was enough evidence to recommend opening an investigation in the first place. They don’t like seeing your name on a case.”

  “Incredible,” Zachary growled. “Well, they can’t close it without the agreement of the coroner, so get me my files. Or I will go to the press myself with how the police department is participating in a cover-up.”

  He could hear the grin in Bowman’s voice. “I’ll see what I can do, Zachary. We certainly wouldn’t want any bad press.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Just remember, there is a family out there who can’t bury their dead yet, and that doesn’t play well either. They’re not going to stay quiet for long, and they want her cremated.”

  “Which means we can’t exhume her later to finish what we started.”

  “There’s only so much you can test for once the body’s been burned.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  I

  t had taken Zachary some time to track down Stanley Green, Robin’s ex-fiancé. There were too many Stanley Greens around, too many of them the right age or race. But eventually, he was able to whittle the list down and identify the correct Stanley Green.

  Zachary anticipated that Stanley would not want to set up a meeting with him, so he hung around at the building that housed the offices of the copper mining company Stanley worked for and watched for him to come out. It was getting late, and he wondered whether he had missed Stanley or maybe he hadn’t been scheduled to work that day, when he finally spotted the face that he had memorized.

  “Stanley Green?”

  Stanley turned around and looked at Zachary. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to be coming up on a man unexpectedly in the gathering dusk, but Zachary was sure that when Stanley Green compared his height and bulk with Zachary’s, he wouldn’t be concerned. Stanley lo
oked him over, tried to place him, then shook his head.

  “Do I know you from somewhere?”

  “No. I just wanted to talk to you for a few minutes. I’m taking part in the investigation of the death of a woman you used to be engaged to.” He saw comprehension starting to form in Stanley’s eyes. “Robin Salter.”

  Stanley shook his head. “Robin died? How did that happen?”

  “Well, the how is what we’re currently trying to figure out. She was in hospital. She had terminal cancer. But as it turns out, someone might have hurried the process along a little.” It was a stretch, but the main points were correct, so Zachary didn’t worry about it.

  “Who would do a thing like that?” Stanley shook his head. “Well, I haven’t had any contact with Robin for a long time. I don’t think I can help you.”

  “I’ll buy you a drink. Just a short chat and then you can get on with your evening.”

  Stanley considered this. Zachary was surprised he was so reluctant, given his size. He could probably break Zachary in two. It wouldn’t be much of a fight, even if Zachary had been inclined to show off his rather limited physical prowess.

  “Alright,” Stanley finally agreed. “There’s a bar about six blocks down this street.” He pointed. “Big orange sign outside. Meet me there.”

  Zachary couldn’t be sure Stanley was going to meet him there, he might just as easily be giving himself an opportunity to skip out and avoid the talk. After watching Stanley head into the employee parking lot to get his car, Zachary hurried to his. He rolled up to the Farmhouse Tavern at about the same time as Stanley, and hurried to catch up with him, feeling like a toddler on his short legs when compared with Stanley’s.

  They got a table and Stanley took a careful look at Zachary. Apparently unworried by his interrogator, he leaned back, relaxing after a long day of work. A waitress came by and they ordered their beers. Zachary didn’t try to talk to him until they both had their drinks. Zachary took a sip of his. It had been far too long since he’d had beer. He would have to limit his intake to one, and that wouldn’t be easy. He took another swallow and put it down, a few inches farther away than was comfortable. Stanley’s eyes took this in, but he wasn’t concerned by Zachary’s strange behavior.

  “What was your name? Who are you?”

  Zachary slid a business card across the table to Stanley. “Zachary. Goldman Investigations.”

  Stanley looked at the card and considered it for a while before sliding it into his shirt pocket. “How did Robin die?”

  “That’s under investigation. She died in her sleep at the hospital, but the timing was unexpected. It looks like something might have been administered to her IV.” Not strictly true, maybe, but it was enough to hook Stanley.

  “Somebody gave her something in her IV? That seems rather…” Stanley searched for a word. “Brash.”

  Zachary nodded. “It’s a strange case.”

  “And what do you want me for? Like I said, I haven’t seen her in years. I wouldn’t have any reason to track her down after we were both out of each other’s lives.”

  “Well, from what I hear, there was a restraining order. It seems like you did need something to keep you apart back then.”

  “Restraining orders don’t last forever. If I remember right, it was only for six months. And it was never violated. We were able to go on with our lives.”

  “Good for you. Well… I didn’t come here because I thought you did anything to her. I mean, it’s always a remote possibility, but I don’t think anyone seriously thought you might have something to do with it. I think you would probably have drawn attention at the hospital, and no one claimed to have seen you there.”

  “That’s because I wasn’t.”

  Stanley took a long drag on his beer. He eyed it, probably wondering if he should just down it all at once and then get out of there, saying nothing more to Zachary. But his curiosity kept him there.

  “Then what are you looking for from me?”

  “Background. You knew Robin back at a very difficult time in her life. You were accepted as a member of her family. Who better to talk to about the personal dynamics?”

  “Her family.”

  “You knew her father before he was killed?”

  “Yes. He was still alive when we got engaged.” Stanley stopped and said nothing more, even though Zachary gave him plenty of time.

  “What was he like?”

  “He was… the patriarch… he dictated how things were to be run in the family. No one ever really challenged him.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “Pretty much everything. He’s the one who decided to take Gloria and her baby in. He set the house rules. Mealtimes, curfew, bedtimes.”

  “Robin would have been in her twenties, wouldn’t she? He gave her a curfew and bedtime?”

  “Look what happened to Gloria. He had to be sure.”

  “What happened to Gloria…?”

  “Her pregnancy.”

  “Oh.” Zachary nodded. He’d lived in his share of homes with seemingly bizarre, arbitrary rules. He never did understand how they were supposed to keep him from getting into trouble. He got into trouble for not being able to follow the rules. It seemed like the only reason they were imposed was so that families would have a good excuse to punish him or to send him on to the next place. “I’ve noticed they’re somewhat… religious.”

  Stanley shrugged.

  “And I have met Vera,” Zachary said. “Seems like she might be getting a little forgetful. Or is that just part of her personality?”

  “Forgetful? No, I don’t think so. She never seemed to have any trouble when I was around. But that was a while back, now.”

  “How did you and Robin meet?”

  “She was temping at the company I worked for. Not Copper,” Stanley jerked his head the direction of the building they had come from. “Another company. We saw each other a few times…. I asked her if she wanted to go out… things progressed.”

  “What was she like? I’ve heard descriptions from a few different people, but I never knew her myself.”

  “She was a strong woman. I found that attractive. Good-looking and well-dressed. Not wishy-washy like other women I had dated. You ask them what they want, and they ask what you want. Can’t answer a question or express an opinion. Robin wasn’t like that. She had definite opinions and she wasn’t going to keep quiet because she thought someone else might be of another opinion.”

  Zachary thought about Bridget. “It can be exhausting to have to make all of the decisions for two people. Having someone who is willing to take charge and not just be blown around… that can be a big relief.”

  “Yeah. Robin did everything well. I thought she was an amazing person.”

  “I heard from the hospital staff that she sometimes complained. She was irritated by things that weren’t quite the way she wanted them. Does that sound like the way she was when you were together?”

  Stanley took a pull at his beer. “Robin was never afraid to lodge a complaint. If we were at a restaurant and the service or the food wasn’t top notch, you can bet she would have something to say about it. She knew what she wanted. And she knew how to persuade other people around her to do things the ‘right’ way.”

  “And after a while, that started to get old and to grate on you.” Zachary knew how relationships worked. A difference that initially brought a couple together could quickly turn into a rift that separated them. Stanley had been attracted to a strong, opinionated woman, but then he had started to dislike the fact that she was so strong and opinionated all of the time. He started to crave someone who was softer and more moldable.

  Stanley frowned at his beer. “She got more extreme. More… angry.”

  And it had become a power struggle. Robin getting angry when she didn’t get exactly what she wanted, Stanley trying to change her mind and bend her to his will. The anger had escalated. The violence had escalated and that was how they had ended up with their
names on multiple domestic violence complaints and a protective order.

  Zachary backed off. He didn’t want to make Stanley defensive.

  “And Gloria? She was another hard-headed woman?” he suggested.

  Stanley shook his head. “She was messed up. She could clean up nicely, put on a good show for a few hours, but she was an addict. A party girl. She was living at home most of the time, but she hadn’t settled down. Vera and Clarence were mom and dad to Rhys. Gloria wasn’t there most of the time. She didn’t know how to be responsible and take care of her baby.”

  “That must have been hard on them. You don’t expect to be raising a child again at that age.”

  “Plenty of people do, though. They loved Rhys, just adored him. And he loved them right back. They’d only raised girls, not boys, so they could suddenly do things that the girls had never been interested in. Woodworking, hunting, fishing. Guy stuff. Rhys was the little man of the house.”

  And now Rhys was surrounded by women, his voice literally silenced. Did he pursue any of those interests at school? So many school programs were getting cut, Zachary didn’t know if they had shop anymore.

  “When Clarence died, Rhys was about five?”

  “Yeah. About that.”

  “And you were still together with Robin for a while after that. So you saw how it affected Rhys? How it affected the different members of the family?”

  “Poor little guy.” Stanley stared intently at his beer. “Rhys just worshiped Clarence. He loved him to bits. After the shooting…he became like a different person. He went from a smiley, fun-loving kid to being… broken and withdrawn. No one could reach him. And I tried. I really did. I was the only other man around, not counting Gloria’s one-night-stands. I tried, but I couldn’t help him.”

  Zachary nodded. Rhys was still suffering ten years later. That wasn’t something that a sometimes father-figure could have fixed with a few visits.

  “Do you have any idea what might have happened to Robin? I know you haven’t seen them, I just mean as someone who knew the family dynamics at one time… could you see anyone stepping in and… intervening? For any reason. It might have been a mercy killing or assisted suicide. I’m just wondering if anything like that made sense to you.”