Blood Moon argi-9

by M. R. Sellars

  *****

  I’d made far too many such visits to the Saint Louis City Medical Examiner’s office over the years, and even though I had become prematurely jaded to the sight of corpses and the cold feeling of death, I still never could get used to the place.

  Every time I walked through the door of the innocuous building situated next to police headquarters, it was like being the unexpected celebrity guest at a morbid party. It almost always began with a stunned silence that went unnoticed by everyone but me-simply because the ethereal hush was falling over the ghostly voices of the dead that only I could hear in the first place. Of course, the stillness never lasted long. Within moments the screams, the cries, and the pleading voices from the other side of the veil would fill my ears in a deafening cacophony.

  And then above it all, there was always the one clear voice of the soul I was supposed to help. That one always shared with me the most pain, anguish, and even physical torture. I suppose it needed something to set it apart from the crowd, although I would have gladly settled for a gentler way of capturing my attention.

  As expected, today was no different. And just as I had done on each and every occasion, I fought to ignore the screams in favor of the here and now that was unfolding in front of me.

  “Where’s Ceece?” Ben asked the woman behind the desk in the lobby. We were barely through the door, and she hadn’t even been afforded the chance to greet us.

  “I’m sorry?” she replied.

  “You know, the lady who’s s’posed ta’ be sittin’ where you’re sittin’ right now,” he explained.

  She nodded as a look of understanding tweaked her features. “Oh, you mean Cecelia. She just ran out to pick up lunch. May I help you?”

  Ben flashed his badge. “Yeah, I’m Detective Storm. We’re here ta’ see Doc Sanders.”

  “I’m sorry, Detective, I’m afraid she’s also at lunch.”

  “She should be expectin’ us.”

  The woman shook her head. “I’m certain she’s at lunch.”

  “She go out too, or is she in ‘er office like usual?” he asked.

  “I believe she’s in her office, but as I said, she’s taking a break for lunch. She should be…”

  Ben held up his hands to stop her and began shaking his head. “Ceece knew we were comin’, so did Doc Sanders.”

  “I’m sorry, but neither of them said anything about it to me,” she returned.

  “Well, they musta forgot.”

  “Let me check…” she said as she carefully glanced over a schedule sheet while running her pen along the side and then gave it a second pass. She began shaking her head slowly as she looked up and said, “I’m very sorry, Detective Storm, but you don’t have an appointment listed here and Doctor Sanders is…”

  “…at lunch, yeah, I know. Look… I’m serious. Ceece knew we were comin’. If that ain’t enough for ya’, try this on. My boss sent us over here to talk to your boss. Now I really don’t wanna have my boss jumpin’ on my ass and then callin’ your boss’ boss, ‘cause in the end the shit’s just gonna roll downhill on top of both of us. Know what I mean? So just do me a favor… Pick up the phone and let the doc know we’re here.” He shook his head again. “She says no, all good. We let her explain it. Okay?”

  The woman looked at him with a sideways glance. “Are you always this intense?”

  “Yes, he is,” another voice came from the doorway to our right, and a definite tone of exasperation surrounded the words.

  We looked over to find Cecelia coming into the lobby from the back, door slowly swinging shut behind her. Her purse was slung over her shoulder, and she was juggling a pair of large carryout bags in her arms.

  “Ceece,” Ben crooned with an air of relief.

  “Don’t Ceece me, Storm. You aren’t supposed to be here yet,” she snipped as she walked across the lobby and deposited the bags on the desk. “I told you Doctor Sanders would be available after lunch.”

  “Yeah, well shit happens, ya’know.”

  “Especially with you,” she sighed. “Is there really some pressing reason why you have to see the doctor now?”

  “Yes,” he replied.

  She stood staring at him expectantly. After a moment she said, “I take it I’m not going to get an explanation?”

  “I can’t get into it,” he said. “Let’s just say the doc owes me.”

  “Owes you? Are you sure you don’t have that backwards?”

  “Nope.”

  Cecelia shook her head. “I’m not even going to ask.”

  “Yeah, that’s prob’ly a good idea. B’sides, couldn’t tell ya’ anyway.”

  “You’re incorrigible,” she mumbled.

  Ben nodded. “Yeah, I’ve heard that.”

  Cecelia directed herself to the woman at the reception desk. “Go ahead and buzz Doctor Sanders, Caroline. He really is supposed to be here.” She paused for a heartbeat then added with emphasis, “After lunch.”

  CHAPTER 20:

  “I think it’s warmer outside than it is in here,” Ben mused aloud as he shuffled in place. I was fairly certain his dance was more out of impatience than an attempt to keep warm, even though his observation was certainly dead on the mark.

  Shortly after the receptionist had buzzed Doctor Sanders, we were signed in then escorted to the cold storage area and autopsy suites at the back of the medical examiner’s building. Unfortunately, we had already been standing here for several minutes, and it was beginning to look like the M.E. was going to make us wait indefinitely.

  “Yeah,” I agreed with my friend then looked over at my wife. “You okay, honey?”

  She merely nodded in response. She tended to be a bit more sensitive to the cold than me, so she had already zipped up her leather jacket and was now pulling on her gloves. I was almost regretting having left my own coat back at the Jeep even though I knew there was more to the gelid atmosphere than simply the physical temperature.

  I gave Felicity’s shoulder a quick squeeze then glanced around at the tiled room. It had been awhile since I’d ventured this far into the bowels of the building, but little had changed since then. Stainless steel rectangles still formed an evenly spaced checkerboard on the far wall, each one a doorway into a cubicle where earthly remains awaited their turn under the knife. At the back end of the room were doors leading into the garage where an overt but acceptable form of segregation occurred on an almost daily basis. Living people entered and exited in the front, corpses there in the back. The only thing missing was a sign reading “Dead Persons Only.”

  “I guess Doctor Sanders decided to finish her lunch first,” I finally said after completing my visual inspection for a third time.

  “Yeah,” Ben grunted. “Sure seems like it. You’d think they’d at least have us wait someplace warm.”

  “Aye, if you hadn’t been so pushy, maybe they would have,” Felicity offered.

  “Just doin’ my job,” he returned.

  He was still shuffling about, allowing his gaze to wander just as mine had, but with one overt difference-he was avoiding eye contact with me, and Felicity as well. Impatience, I could understand, but this was more than that. I’d seen him play the stone-faced cop more than once, so I knew for a fact something was bothering him that he simply couldn’t mask.

  “What are you so nervous about, Ben?” I asked.

  “I ain’t nervous.” He shook his head.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Well then maybe you got trust issues.”

  “These days, you’re probably right, but I’m pretty sure that’s not it. Why don’t you tell me what this is all about. What’s really going on?”

  “Whaddaya mean?” He shrugged and waved his hand toward the far wall as he added, “What’s it always about when we come here, white man? You, a pissed off stiff, and la-la land.”

  He finally stopped avoiding eye contact and looked at me expectantly as his words dissipated on the cloud of steam that was his breath. I stared back an
d frowned.

  Pissed off stiff. My friend’s less than eloquent way of referring to the body of a murder victim was just another hallmark that told me something was amiss. Granted, any corpse I came here to see during an investigation had some form of brutality responsible for its date with one of the stainless steel tables. And, yes, the spirits once housed by the now lifeless bodies were less than happy about it. But Ben customarily showed at least some amount of reverence.

  Still, I knew exactly what he was trying to say. I was here, for all intents and purposes, to translate. To tell the living what the dead had to say, all in hopes that it would shed light on why they were here in the first place.

  But that was obvious. Moreover, it wasn’t what I was asking, and he knew it.

  “No kidding, Ben. I pretty much figured that out when you herded us up here,” I said. “But you know it doesn’t work that way.”

  “Yeah? So when have ya’ ever not gone Twilight Zone when you were here?”

  “That’s not my point, and you know it.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s mine.”

  “Okay, so what if I do? You know how convoluted this can get. There’s never a straight answer from the dead. I’m not going to be able to just hand you a name or anything.”

  “Yeah, I know that,” he nodded. “Just do what ya’ do, and we’ll go from there. That’s all I’m askin’.”

  “Dammit,” I grumbled. “I let you sidetrack me again.”

  “Me? Whaddid I do?”

  “You avoided my question. You know that’s not what I was asking.”

  He splayed out his hands in mock surrender. “Sounded like it ta’ me. You asked what…”

  “Stop it,” I said, cutting him off and holding my own hands up, palms toward him as a sign that I’d had enough. “No double talk. Just answer the question.”

  He shot me a concerned look. “You feelin’ okay, Kemosabe? You’re actin’ a little freaked.”

  “Don’t turn this back on me,” I demanded. “Something’s up or you wouldn’t have been in such a rush to get us in here.”

  “What rush?” he asked with a shrug.

  “Give me a break. You met us at the Jeep, hurried us up here, and then bullied your way in.”

  “I was just savin’ ya’ some time. ‘Scuse me.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Look, Row, I don’t know what’s eatin’ ya’, but you need to calm down. Okay?”

  “What’s eating me is that you’re lying about something, Ben. I can tell by the way you’re acting.”

  “Jeezus, didn’t we already go through this shit last night?” he replied.

  “Yes,” I snapped. “Which is why I’m not overly pleased about going through it again.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t acting all squirrelly again.”

  “You’re imaginin’ things. Listen, it’s simple… Just like I told ya’ on the phone, we got a missin’ woman who fits the victim profile of the two stiffs that just checked in here. But based on the pattern, she’s prob’ly still alive.” He pointed over to the storage drawers to punctuate his next statement. “Brass wants your input so maybe she doesn’t end up movin’ in over there next to the first two.”

  “Okay, I can understand that.”

  “Wunnerful. See? There ya’ have it. So if it seems like I’m in a rush, maybe I am… And for a damn good reason, don’tcha think?”

  “I wish I could believe it’s that simple, Ben. But I can’t. Something else is going on here.”

  “Well I said it once and I’ll say it again, you’re imaginin’ shit. Just chill out, okay? It’s all good.”

  I shook my head. “No it isn’t. I still don’t get why your brass suddenly wants my advice on this.”

  “I already told ya’. Prob’ly because of your track record,” he replied. “You’ve been instrumental in solving every case you ever consulted on. They know that. Some of ‘em definitely don’t like it, but they know it. Enough said.”

  “Even if I buy that, there’s got to be more to the story…”

  “Why?”

  “Remember asking me if I had a hinky feeling earlier? Well, guess what? I’ve definitely got one now.”

  “Maybe you’re wrong.”

  “You know I’m not.”

  He let out a heavy sigh and threw his hands up. “Look, just drop it. It ain’t important.”

  “So there is something,” I replied, my tone sharp.

  “Yeah, okay. There is, but I’m tellin’ ya’ it ain’t important,” he replied, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture. “And right now you’re just blowin’ shit outta proportion.”

  “You aren’t helping with the double talk.”

  “Maybe not, but I’m kinda stuck in the middle here.”

  “Unstick yourself. Just tell me what’s going on.”

  “Listen, a wise man once said, what ya’ don’t know won’t hurt ya’. I highly suggest you listen to the wise man.”

  “Uh-huh, well it just so happens another one said, when in doubt, do nothing,” I shot back. “And I’m having more than my share of doubts right now.”

  “Well do us all a favor and get over ‘em is all I got ta’ say.”

  “I will when you tell me what’s really going on.”

  “Trust me, you wouldn’t believe me if I told ya’.”

  “Very funny.” I wasn’t laughing when I made the comment. “This isn’t the time to beat me over the head with irony. I’m not in the mood.”

  “Irony? What… Oh, yeah, I did kinda sound just like you right then, didn’t I?” he harrumphed and then gave me a sidelong glance. “Frustratin’ as fuck, ain’t it?”

  “Yes it is, but you also know exactly why I say that.”

  “Yeah, and I know ‘zactly why I’m sayin’ it too,” he countered. “Just leave it alone, Row. Seriously. It ain’t important.”

  “Is the FBI involved in this?”

  “Well hell, sure they are. I already told ya’ that.”

  “No, Ben, I mean me being here now.” I wasn’t yelling, but my voice had definitely risen in concert with my darkening mood.

  “Calm down. The Feebs got nothin’ to do with you bein’ here.”

  “Who then?”

  “Me, who else,” he spat. “Now like I said, just calm down.”

  “And your brass?”

  “Yeah, some of them too. Jeezus, you oughta be happy you got a few friends in high places for a change.”

  Felicity, who had remained conspicuously silent as the discussion turned to an argument, now spoke up. “Aye, Ben, I have to agree with Rowan. Something doesn’t feel right about this. We’ve had our fill of hidden agenda’s today. What aren’t you telling us?”

  “Dammit, where the hell’s the doc?” he muttered as a response.

  “Okay, if you aren’t going to tell me what’s going on, then I’m done,” I announced. “Come on, Felicity, I think we can probably still catch that movie.”

  “Jeezus, Row, give it a rest. Nobody’s out ta’ get ya’.”

  I took my wife’s arm, and we headed toward the exit. We made it to the door before my friend gave in.

  “Okay, stop! Just stop right there,” he barked, struggling to keep his voice at a reasonable volume. “Sonofabitch… I told ‘em somethin’ like this would happen.”

  “Are you going to quit jerking us around?” I asked as I glanced back toward him.

  He huffed out a heavy sigh then reached up and smoothed back his hair. He closed his eyes and hung his head for a moment as his hand slid down to his neck and came to a rest.

  “Goddammit…” he muttered before bringing his gaze to meet mine. “Fine… Okay… You win… Ya’ happy?”

  “I will be when I know what’s really going on here,” I appealed.

  “Maybe… Maybe not,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter. Truth is I know it won’t make any difference as far as you helpin’ goes.”

  “So someone thought it
would?” I asked, confusion wrinkling my face.

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “Which is exactly why I’m under orders not to tell ya’.”

  “What the hell is it?” Now I was thoroughly perplexed.

  Finally, he simply blurted out, “The missin’ woman’s name is, Judith Albright.”

  “Albright,” I repeated the name back to him. “As in…”

  “Yeah,” he said, cutting me off. “Albright as in she’s Bible Barb’s niece.”

  The revelation definitely gave me pause.

  I stared back at my friend and he at me, neither of us uttering a word. Even Felicity remained silent, which was a shock because I was fairly certain she despised the woman even more than me. Still, Ben was correct. I wasn’t about to withhold my help on this case because of a grudge against a victim’s relative, although I was fairly certain the same would not be true if the tables were turned.

  To say Captain Barbara Albright and I had a turbulent history was the understatement of the century. I was a Witch and she was a fundamentalist Christian with a badge-obviously not a good mix. Still, it shouldn’t have been an issue, and to be honest it wasn’t, at least not for me. However, she decided otherwise before we’d even met, and the rest was downhill from there.

  Live and let live simply wasn’t a part of her credo. If you didn’t share her beliefs you were damned to hell. To that end, she was more than happy to use her position within the department to cram Christianity down your throat and then find a way to legally harass you if you dared to gag and spit it back out.

  Behind her back the majority of the police force simply called her Bible Barb, or BeeBee for short. She definitely had her share of lackeys and supporters interspersed throughout the ranks, but among the cops on the street they were few and far between. Still, you had to watch what you said if you weren’t sure where someone else’s loyalties might lay because it would definitely make its way back to her ears.

  If ever I’d had a nemesis who just happened to be on the correct side of the law, she was it. Our first run in had come when she was a lieutenant and had unceremoniously taken charge of an investigation with which I was involved. From that point forward she’d been on a mission to sever my ties with local law enforcement as a consultant. While she had eventually been promoted out of any direct contact where I was concerned, I never felt as though I was fully out of her sights. Even as recently as the debacle with Felicity’s false arrest, Albright’s fingerprints were all over some of the harassment and bureaucratic stumbling blocks we had faced.