by Bill Bernico
“I think so,” Hannah said. “All except that last part about the other woman. I thought you said it was the wife who was cheating. Mr. Finch wasn’t seeing another woman, was he?”
“No, he wasn’t,” Dan said. “She was.”
Hannah made a few more notes on her pad and let out a deep breath. “Got it,” she said. “Go on.”
I interrupted Dan’s speech and added, “The way it looks to me is Mr. Finch found out about his wife’s lover and confronted her with it. She stands up to him and plugs him twice with her little purse gun. Mrs. Finch is either scared or mad or a little of both and pounds some sense into her former lover and maybe carries it a little too far. So where does that leave Cora Finch?”
“Where?” Dan said.
“Don’t look at me,” I said. “I don’t have the answer. I was just throwing the facts out there to see what we had so far. Do you know where Cora Finch is right now?”
“We’re one step ahead of you, Matt,” Dan said. “I have a patrol car on its way to the Finch residence to pick her up. Maybe she can shed some light on all this for us.”
“Have you considered Mr. Carver?” Amy said. “He could have been just as traumatized as Cora Finch. Could he have done this to his wife?”
“Not very likely,” Dan said. “He’s been wheelchair bound for several years now, ever since a car accident left him a cripple. It seems highly unlikely that he could have beaten someone senseless from a sitting position. He could have inflicted some serious damage to someone’s kneecaps, though.”
No one else saw the humor in that statement and let it pass without comment. Dan cleared his throat to mask the beginnings of a laugh.
“There were two other bridge players at the Carver house the night I stopped by,” I said. “You think they might know anything?”
Dan turned to Hannah. “Make a note of that and remind me to get both their names later.”
“Got it,” Hannah said, writing that down on her pad.
A momentary silence fell over the room. Several seconds later Amy spoke up again, directing it at me. “You want me to ask my two bridesmaids if they’ve heard anything?”
“Huh?” Dan said. “What do her bridesmaids have to do with any of this?”
“Nothing,” I said, turning to Amy and waving her off. She settled back in her chair and didn’t mention the two women again.
“Has Walsh had a chance to examine the two bodies yet?” I said, referring to county medical examiner, Jack Walsh.
“He has Finch on his table now,” Dan said. “The Carver woman is still waiting her turn in the cooler.”
“Have you talked with Walsh yet about Finch?” I said.
Dan shook his head. “We can stop by there now if you like,” he said. “Jack may have some preliminary results by now.”
I turned to Amy. “You may want to wait here until we get back,” I said.
“Why?” Amy said. “You think I can’t handle it, don’t you?”
“It’s not that,” I said. “But the images stay with you long after you’ve left that room. I wouldn’t want you to carry that kind of excess baggage around with you.”
“I’ll be fine,” Amy assured me. “Let’s go have a look at Mr. Finch.”
I looked at Dan and he just shrugged. “The lady wants a look,” he said.
Hannah returned to her desk and started typing up a transcript from her notes while the three of us walked down the hall to Jack Walsh’s office. Dan walked right in and Amy and I followed him. Jack was still standing over the examination table but most of the extensive probing and weighing of the internal organs had already been performed.
Jack saw us coming and stepped between Amy and the body on the table. I stepped up to Jack and told him in a low voice that Amy insisted on seeing what went on here. He hesitated for a moment and then stepped aside as Amy stepped up to get a closer look at what was left of Russell Finch’s shell.
Jack pointed to the chest cavity and said, “I’ve removed the internal organs, weighed them and now they’re in those metal pans over there.” He pointed to a row of stainless steel pans on a shelf. “I recovered two .32 caliber slugs from the victim’s heart and left lung.” Walsh rinsed the two bullets off under the faucet and handed them to Dan. He turned back to Amy once more. “The last thing I still need to do is open the cranial cavity and examine and weigh the brain.”
Jack picked up a small circular power saw and stepped around to the top of the skull. The saw started up with a whirring sound and as he touched it to Finch’s forehead and began cutting, Amy suddenly turned and ran from the room, the swing door swinging wildly behind her. I hurried out to be with her.
I found her bent over the toilet bowl in the bathroom in Jack’s office. When she saw me coming, she pushed the door closed all the way. I waited patiently until I could hear the water running inside. A moment later she emerged, her face as pale as a glass of milk.
“I told you it wasn’t going to be pretty, didn’t I?” I said. “I suggested that you wait in Dan’s office, didn’t I”
“I had no idea,” Amy said. “I thought the body would look like someone sleeping.” She wrapped her arms around me and held on tight. “Let’s get out of here, Matt,” she said.
I stepped back into the examination room and called to Dan. “Dan,” I said. “I’m taking Amy home. I’ll check back with you later when Jack’s finished with the Carver woman.”
Dan just waved me off from there without comment. I walked Amy out to the car and drove her back to her place. I poured her a glass of wine and sat her down on the sofa.
“Here,” I said, handing her the wine glass. “Drink this. It’ll help calm you down.”
Amy took the glass and drank from it before setting it on her coffee table. The color was coming back to her face and she was breathing somewhat normal again. I held her against my chest and stroked her head.
“I’ll tell you what,” I said. “Let’s make a deal. You stick with your library work and I’ll stick with my gumshoeing.”
“Investigating,” Amy said. “Remember?”
“Investigating,” I agreed. “You don’t look at any more stiffs and I won’t ask you about the Dewey Decimal System, okay?”
Okay,” Amy said, forcing a smile.
“What do you say we call it a day?” I said. “I can stop back tomorrow morning and we can spend the day doing something pleasant for a change.”
Amy held on tight and wouldn’t let me go. “Don’t go, Matt,” she said. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.” She gazed into my eyes with a longing look. “Please.”
I smiled and nodded. “I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “I’m right here.”
When the three television stations had signed off the air for the night, I switched off the television set. Amy was sound asleep so I carried her into her bedroom and hastily pulled the covers back, laying her down on the bed and covering her up again. She stirred briefly and moaned a little but remained asleep. I switched off the light and returned to the couch, removing my shoes and stretching out. I was asleep in just a few minutes.
When I awoke the next morning, Amy was already in the kitchen fixing breakfast for both of us. She looked over at me on the couch and saw my eyes open and flutter and came over to me, kneeling next to the couch.
“Good morning,” she said. “Did you sleep well?”
I tried sitting up but felt a sharp pain in my back. “This couch isn’t really made for sleeping,” I said. “I’m going to be paying for that today.”
“I’m sorry,” Amy said. “You should have stretched out next to me. There’s plenty of room.”
“I’ll remember that next time,” I said. “What’s for breakfast?”
“I hadn’t had time to get to the market so I’m afraid all I have is cold cereal,” Amy said almost apologetically.
“To hell with that,” I said. “Let’s go out for breakfast. I’m hungry enough to eat a horse.”
“You don’t have to tell m
e twice,” Amy set, grabbing her coat and fumbling with her house keys. “Where would you like to eat?”
“You tell me,” I said. “This is your neighborhood, remember?”
We found a little diner right down the street that claimed to specialize in breakfasts. They weren’t lying. We enjoyed the best breakfast we’d had in a long time. I made a mental note of the place and promised myself to return soon. On the ride back to Amy’s I asked her if she’d finished shopping for her wedding dress yet.
“Yeah,” Amy said. “About that, Matt.”
“Oh oh,” I said.
“No oh oh,” Amy said. “I still want to marry you more than anything, but…”
“Here it comes,” I said. “What’d I do?”
“Oh no, Matt,” Amy said, wrapping her arm around mine as I drove. “You didn’t do anything. I was just re-thinking this whole large wedding idea. I was wondering if you’d mind just a simple ceremony and just a small gathering of a few friends afterwards.”
I pulled the car to the curb and shut off the engine. “Is this what you want, Amy?” I said. “I thought it was every girl’s dream to have a big wedding. What made you change your mind?”
Amy hesitated before offering, “You remember yesterday when I ran out of the coroner’s examination room?”
“Yes,” I said, waiting for the rest of the explanation.
“And I ran into Jack’s bathroom and threw up?” Amy said, drawing this out.
“Okay,” I said. “What about it?”
“It’s not the first time I threw up,” Amy said.
“At your age, I should think not,” I said. “I’ve thrown up lots of times in my thirty-eight years.”
“You don’t understand,” Amy said. “I’ve been throwing up a lot lately, mostly in the morning. You see?”
“Food poisoning?” I said.
“Not food poisoning, Matt,” Amy said, hoping I’d make the connection on my own.
“Then what?” I said. And before Amy could answer, I suddenly got it. I looked at Amy, who’d looked away now. I picked up her chin and made her face me. “Are you?”
Amy nodded and looked away again.
“And that’s why you want the smaller wedding now?” I said.
Again she nodded, still not able to look at me.
This time I grabbed her face with both of my hands and gently turned it toward me. “And we’re going to have…”
Amy’s head went up and down, my hands going with it. A tear ran down each of her cheeks and she swallowed hard.
“How far along are you?” I said.
“I think it’s five weeks,” Amy said.
I did some mental calculations and then said, “July?”
Amy managed to squeak out, “Seventeenth.”
“My birthday?” I said, choking up a little myself.
Amy nodded again, her lip quivering now.
I kissed her and held her tight for a moment before releasing her again. “That’s fantastic,” I said. “What a birthday present.”
“You’re not mad?” Amy said.
“Mad?” I said. “Why on earth would I be mad? I’m marrying the most beautiful woman in the world and I’m going to be a father on my birthday. I’m happier right now than I’ve ever been.”
Amy broke out in full-blown tears now, sobbing uncontrollably. I held on tight and just rocked back and forth with her in my arms. I stopped, pulled my handkerchief out of my pocket and dabbed at her eyes. I held it to her nose and said, “Blow.” She honked a little and I wiped her nose after, stuffing the handkerchief back in my pocket.
“We can get married tomorrow, if you want,” I said. “Hell, we can do it today, for that matter. Right now.”
Amy laughed between cries. “It takes three days from the day you get the license,” she said.
“Okay,” I said. “Today’s Friday. We pick up the license, get our blood tests and come Monday morning we find the Justice Of The Peace and make it official. What do you say, kid? You got that kind of adventuresome spirit?”
“Yes,” was all Amy could muster.
“We’ll drive down to city hall right now,” I said.
Amy pulled back. “You’ll do no such thing, Mr. Cooper.”
“What?” I said, surprised.
“First you’ll drive me home so I can wash my face and make myself at least presentable. THEN we’ll go to city hall.”
I started the car and drove toward Amy’s house, unable and unwilling to wipe the silly grin from my face. Once inside we both sat on the couch again, talking about our upcoming plans.
“This changes everything,” I said. “It doesn’t look like you’ll be able to get your cousin here in time to be your Maid of Honor, does it?”
“I thought about that,” Amy said. “Maybe we can have a real ceremony at a later date and do it all up right, but for now, do you think Hannah would consider being my Maid of Honor?”
“You know,” I said, “I think when you get married by the Justice Of The Peace, you really don’t have a Maid of Honor or Best Man. You just have witnesses. You can ask Hannah and I’ll ask Dan. Two witnesses are all we need.”
The weekend seemed to drag on forever. I wanted Monday to get here and my patience was wearing thin. By Sunday night I was a wreck. I sat on the couch at Amy’s trying to watch television with her but my mind kept drifting. And then I realized something. I turned to Amy.
“It just dawned on me that we have two houses,” I said. “One of us is going to have to move tomorrow. You’ve seen my place. Do you have a preference?”
It didn’t take Amy long to decide. “Here,” she said. “I’d like us to live here. It’s walking distance to work and the movies and I like this neighborhood. Can we live here? Please, Matt.”
“Sure,” I said. “I don’t care where we live as long as we’re together.”
Amy leaned into me and I pulled her close to me. “Then we’ll live here,” I said. “After we return from our honeymoon, I’ll put my place up for sale.”
Amy sat upright. “Honeymoon?” She said. “We’re going on a honeymoon?”
“But of course,” I said, trying out my phony French accent but failing miserably. “What else would a newly married couple do?”
“Where?” Amy said anxiously.
“Where would you like to go?” I said.
Amy thought for a moment and then said, “Chicago.”
I looked at her strangely and then said, “Chicago? Of all the places you could go, you pick Chicago? Why?”
“It’s where I’m from, remember?” Amy said. “And your brother and his family live there. I want to meet them, Matt. I’ll be part of the family then and I want to meet them and get to know them. Okay?”
“Sure,” I said. “I’d like to see Phil and Betty and Troy and Little Matt.”
“I’d like that, too,” Amy said.
“What about your job?” I said. “Can you get some time off?”
“As much as I need,” Amy said. “And once our child is born, I won’t be going back at all. I want our baby to have everything I can possibly give it.”
“Have you given any thought to a name for our child?” I said.
Amy smiled. “If it’s a girl I’d like to name her Sarah after my grandmother.”
“And if it’s a boy?” I said.
“If it’s a boy,” Amy said, “I’d like you to pick a suitable name for him. Do you have any in mind?”
“I know I don’t want Matthew,” I said. “Gets too confusing around the house when you call for senior and junior shows up and vice versa. Besides, my nephew Matt already has dibs on that name. I was thinking I’d like to name our boy Clayton Matthew Cooper. Clay for short.”
“I love it,” Amy said. “It’s perfect. Then it’s settled. Sarah or Clay.” She stuck her hand out and I shook it.
“Deal,” I said.
We slept that night, happier than two people have a right to be. The next morning was Monday and Amy and I got dressed and h
ad a light breakfast. I called Dan and told him to grab Hannah and to meet Amy and me at the office of the Justice Of The Peace right away. After giving Dan a brief explanation about our change of plans, he assured me they’d be there when we arrived.
I drove Amy to city hall and we took the elevator to the office of the Justice Of The Peace. Dan and Hannah were waiting for us when we walked in. There were three other couples sitting in the waiting room so Amy and I sat and waited with them. Hannah took Amy’s two hands in hers and smiled widely.
“This is so exciting,” Hannah said to Amy. “And so, so…”
“Spur of the moment?” Amy offered.
“I was thinking more along the lines of impulsive,” Hannah said. “Impulsive and exciting both.”
The process must not have taken long because before we knew it, there was just one couple ahead of us. A few minutes later they went in and emerged again after three minutes smiling and holding hands. A woman poked her head out of the door and looked at Amy and me. “You’re next,” she said.
Amy and I got up and walked through the door with the glass lettering on it and took our places before a solemn looking man dressed in a dark suit with a carnation sticking out of the lapel. Dan stood to my right and Hannah stood to Amy’s left. I handed him our marriage license and he started right in with the ceremony without further delay. I guessed that he had some quota to fill for the day.
He checked out names on the marriage license and then immediately looked at Amy and said, “Do you, Amy Callahan, take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?”
Amy smiled and looked at me. “I do,” she said.
The man turned his attentions to me. “Do you, Matthew Cooper take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife?”
“I do,” I said, gazing into Amy’s eyes.
“Then,” the man continued, “By the powers vested in me by the city and county of Los Angeles, I now pronounce you man and wife.” He looked at me once more and said without expression, “You may kiss the bride.”
I pulled Amy close and gave her a kiss to last her until we got home again. Dan and Hannah signed the witness portion of the wedding license just before I handed the Justice of the Peace my two dollars. Hannah hugged Amy while Dan shook my hand.
