Bad Medicine

by Caroline Fardig

“Oh,” I say, unsure how to respond.

  He continues earnestly, “You don’t know how many scenes played through my head on the way over here. I haven’t been this scared in my life, including the other two times I thought you’d nearly gotten yourself killed. You’re going to be the death of me.”

  It seems like he still cares, and quite a bit. I smile up at him. “Thanks for checking up on me. Do you need to sit down? You don’t look so good.”

  He frowns playfully at me. “You should talk. You’re as white as a sheet.” Sobering, he asks, “What happened in there? Who’s dead?”

  “That’s actually rather interesting—” I begin, but am interrupted.

  “You can take your hands off of her now,” Brody growls, staring Blake down.

  Blake is still holding me and doesn’t budge. Bad move, Blake. I’m willing to bet that a ginormous pissing contest is in my near future.

  I jump in, “Brody, it’s okay. He heard on the scanner there was an incident here and thought the worst. He’s just congratulating me for not being dead, right Blake?” I look at him meaningfully and gently push him away from me.

  “Right,” he responds, flicking his eyes toward Brody. Oh, here we go. I’m having a weird déjà vu moment reminiscent of the infamous Blake and Lee arguments from right before Blake and I broke up. Only in this matchup, Brody is a much tougher opponent than Lee, and he has a gun. And Blake is still his same arrogant self, so there’s that.

  Trying to lighten the mood, I laugh nervously, “I guess I should introduce you two.” Gesturing to each in turn, I say, “Brody Callahan. Blake Morgan.”

  Neither of the boys moves to shake hands, both of them standing with arms crossed and biceps flexed. Ah, testosterone. Gotta love it.

  Brody breaks the stony silence first. “So you’re the one who made her cry last week.”

  Blake narrows his eyes, responding, “And you’re the one who had his tongue down her throat the next morning.”

  Slapping my forehead with my hand, I exclaim, “And I’m the one who’s uncomfortable here. Both of you shut the hell up.” They both turn to me with wounded expressions and sad, puppy dog eyes. “Hey, too bad, boys. I have zero patience left.”

  “Hey, Callahan,” calls the coroner, beckoning Brody to join him around the corner of the building.

  Brody turns to me. “They’ll want your statement soon. I’ll be back to get you.” He casts one more wary glance at Blake and jogs over to meet the coroner.

  “Are you sure about him?” Blake asks. “He doesn’t seem like your type.”

  Does he ever give it a rest? “Oh, yeah? What makes you say that?”

  “He’s arrogant and domineering.”

  I raise one eyebrow at him.

  “Ha, ha. You know what I mean.”

  I sink back down on the ground. Blake sits down next to me. I begin, “I guess you’re going to ask me for an exclusive…”

  He frowns. “I didn’t come here for the story.”

  Wow. It’s a big deal for him to put me before the story of a murder. “And I appreciate that.” We sit in silence for a moment, and then I say, “But I know you’re dying to know some details.”

  “You know me so well,” he replies, his eyes holding mine.

  I shift the topic of conversation away from us. “I never got a chance to tell you who died.”

  Taking my cue, he jokes, “Let me guess…Lydia saw the error of her ways and decided to end it all.”

  I smile. “Nope. Try again. I’ll give you a hint. It’s a man.”

  Blake pretends to be deep in thought. “Hmm. Sloane. He secretly loves you, and when he found out he couldn’t have you, he decided to end it all.”

  “Again, funny, but no. And this is a murder, not a suicide. And it’s one I don’t think you’re going to be particularly sad about.”

  “Well, that’s certainly intriguing, but it doesn’t necessarily narrow down the field very much.”

  “This could really tie everything together for us.”

  “Out with it, woman!”

  “Jed Stewart.”

  Blake’s mouth drops open. “No way!”

  “Yes way. And don’t forget he was on a date with Lydia a few days ago.”

  I can see the wheels start turning in Blake’s head. He asks, “Are you sure it was a murder?”

  I nod, trying to keep the image out of my head.

  “What time do you think the murder occurred?”

  “Well, I found him in the basement a few minutes ago, when I was locking up. It had to have happened in the last couple of hours, because if not, Becca would have noticed him when she was down there earlier.”

  Blake’s eyes darken, and he becomes very serious. “So the killer was in the building when you were, possibly even when you were there by yourself.”

  I nod, my stomach twisting in knots.

  “Do you think someone wants this pinned on you? I mean, you found Stewart in an area that should only be accessed by employees, right?”

  “Right. And I was by myself for a good thirty minutes before I discovered the body. Lydia could have been watching me and known that.”

  “I don’t like this.”

  Running my hands through my hair, I groan, “Neither do I.”

  “Do you think Stewart was killed here or dumped?”

  “Definitely killed here.” I shudder.

  Blake says kindly, “If you don’t feel like talking about it, that’s fine.” His eyes, however, are sparkling with anticipation.

  I sigh. I’m going to have to tell this story over and over again tonight, so I might as well tell it to a friend first. “He was lying on the floor with a…” I wince at the mental image that overtakes my thoughts. “…a metal grave marker sticking out of his chest. There was a lot of blood.” I stop and massage my temples, trying to get the image out of my brain.

  Laying his hand gently on my back, Blake begins to rub soothing circles. “You don’t have to go on, really.”

  Looking at him seriously, I admit, “I don’t know how I’m ever going to be able to go back and work there again.”

  Brody approaches, staring daggers at Blake, and says, “Lizzie, you need to meet with Detective Johnson now.” He holds out his hand to help me up. “Ready?”

  “I’ll catch up in just a second, okay?” I reply.

  Brody looks from me to Blake, slightly perturbed, but disappears around the front of the building.

  Hauling myself up off the ground, I say to Blake, “Thanks for being here for me. I would have been a basket case without you.”

  Hopping up and taking my hands, Blake replies, “I’m just extremely glad you’re not dead.”

  I smile. “Aw, thanks. I’m glad I’m not dead, either. I better go. See you tomorrow, I guess.”

  “Of course you’ll see me tomorrow. I’ll have to interview you for real. I’ll stick around for a while, in case you need me. Goodnight, Lizzie.” He squeezes my hands before letting go.

  “Goodnight.”

  I close my eyes for a moment and ready myself for a chat with the police. Luckily for me, my chat is going to be with my longtime friend, William Johnson. He worked the Sarah Rodgers case, and he helped out on the Detective Sanchez case as well, so he knows my history inside and out. Plus, he’s extremely kind and patient, especially with me. I’d much rather be interrogated by him than Brody, even when Brody’s trying to be nice.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Walking slowly across the lawn, I can’t help but think all of this is so surreal. The flashing lights have cast weird, scary shadows on the funeral home and the normally quiet neighborhood. Emergency personnel rush around, barging through the front door at will, absolutely ruining the inherent calmness the funeral home always exudes.

  Brody comes toward me and puts his arms around me. “I’m going to be with you through everything tonight. I can’t say anything while you’re being questioned, but I’ll be right by your side if you need me.”

  With him hold
ing me, I feel completely safe. “Thank you. That means a lot.”

  He takes my hand and leads me into the funeral home to talk to William.

  When William sees me, he breaks into a kind smile. “Lizzie, what am I going to do with you?”

  I sigh. “I know. I’m a mess.”

  “Have a seat,” he says, and I perch on one of the sofas in the entry hall. Brody sits next to me, just like he said he would. William continues, “Let’s start at the beginning. Tell me what happened tonight.”

  I launch into my story, trying desperately to include as many details as I possibly can, because people, especially cops, seem to enjoy details so much. I have to describe seeing Jed again, and my empty stomach lurches slightly.

  William nods. “You’re doing great. Now, where were you between seven o’clock and eight-forty five tonight? Did you go down in the basement at all during that time?”

  “No. I was upstairs the whole time.”

  “The whole time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can anyone corroborate that?”

  “Well, I was at my regular post in the foyer most of the evening, and anyone who was here would probably know that. However, you’re dealing with people who are grieving, so they may not be as observant as they might be otherwise.” I probably need to quit talking before I blow my alibi all to hell.

  “How about after everyone left for the evening?”

  I frown. “I was in here for about thirty minutes by myself.”

  “That’s not good, Lizzie,” William says uneasily.

  A hopeful thought crosses my mind. “Oh, Becca has a video security system. You should be able to see me on one of the cameras.”

  “Are there any cameras in the basement?” he asks.

  “No, the cameras are all on this floor. I guess they’re mainly to protect the living. Sometimes people can get agitated at funerals.”

  “Right. We’ll check it out. By the way, the doors were all locked except the front door and the door in the basement nearest the body. Know anything about that?”

  “I went around and locked all of the doors on this floor as part of my post-visitation chores. I found Jed before I had a chance to check the basement door, but normally Becca locks up downstairs when she leaves. You’ll need to double check with her. And I opened the front door for Brody when he got here.”

  “I’ll check with Becca about the door downstairs. Was Jed Stewart here tonight for the visitation?”

  “No, I didn’t see him.”

  William writes something down in his notebook. “One more thing. Why do you think someone would want to kill Jed Stewart here of all places?”

  I look over at Brody. He imperceptibly shakes his head. Hmm. For some reason, I don’t think he wants me telling William my suspicions about Lydia. Maybe because he’s afraid William will think I’m insane, or maybe because he has his own suspicions and wants to see whether they pan out before he alerts the entire LPD about Lydia’s alleged extra-curricular activities.

  I shrug. “I don’t know. And since he wasn’t at the visitation tonight, I don’t know why he would have been here at all.”

  He nods. “Okay. Now, I’m only spitballing here, but let’s say someone did this to cast some suspicion onto you, or maybe even onto Becca. You were the only employee here at the time, and the body was found in an area only you and she had access to. Who might have wanted to do that? Who have you or Becca pissed off lately?”

  I’m a bit embarrassed by his implication, even though it’s likely true in my case. I play it off jokingly. “Becca mainly focuses on pissing me off. And who haven’t I pissed off lately? There was probably a line.”

  “I can’t say I’m surprised,” William says, teasing me back.

  I can feel Brody tense up beside me, and I can only assume he doesn’t think the situation is nearly as light as William and I are making it. That’s terribly sweet of him.

  Pulling an apologetic face, William says, “I’m done with you for now, but I’m sorry to say that we’re going to have to take you to the station and get you fingerprinted.”

  My mouth gapes open in shock. “Whoa. Am I under arrest here?” I turn to Brody, and when I see his grim expression, I really start to panic.

  William holds out his hands and backpedals. “Now calm down, Lizzie. We just need to get your prints so we can distinguish them from any others we might find here. You’re not going to be arrested. That is, unless your alibi doesn’t check out.”

  At this point I’m starting to get irritated. “So it doesn’t matter that I didn’t do it, just as long as my alibi checks out.”

  Sighing, William looks me in the eye and admonishes me, “Lizzie, under most circumstances, someone in your situation would already be on the way to lockup by now. However, since Callahan seems to think there’s been some foul play and all of us on the force know you fairly well, you’re being granted a damn lot of benefit of the doubt. If I were you, I’d keep that in mind. Tonight could be much worse for you than it is.”

  I seriously doubt that, but I had probably better keep my mouth shut if I know what’s good for me. Plus, now everyone on the force probably knows Brody and I are dating, or whatever, and I don’t want them hassling him for having a shrew girlfriend. Not that I’m his girlfriend, but you know what I mean.

  When I don’t respond, Brody says easily, “Back off, Johnson. She’s had a tough night.” He rubs my back gently and leaves his hand there protectively. Wow. I never thought Brody the hard-boiled cop would get between a fellow officer of the law and anyone, including me.

  William laughs good-naturedly. “Aw, she can handle it. Lizzie’s a pretty tough cookie. Better stay on her good side—she throws a mean right hook.”

  I smile, remembering the day I punched William in the gut in pre-school. He totally deserved it.

  Brody leans toward me and murmurs, “Tell me you didn’t assault an officer.”

  Ignoring him, I say to William, “You stole my favorite swing during recess. I told you I wanted it back or else. You chose your own fate, pal.”

  “And you got in big trouble.”

  “It was worth every second of that time-out.”

  Brody asks wearily, “Is there any man in this town you don’t have a history with?”

  I smile sweetly at him. “Just you.”

  William stands up. “Callahan, if you’d take her to the station now, I’d appreciate it. I have a couple more things here I need to do.”

  Brody nods. “No problem.”

  William turns to me and winks. “Don’t leave town, okay?”

  I joke, “No way. I’m having way too much fun here.”

  William disappears downstairs, and Becca stalks in the front door, Jack in tow. I don’t even have a chance to say anything before she starts ripping me a new asshole.

  “What the hell happened here tonight, Lizzie? I get a call that someone has been murdered in my family’s funeral home! I left you in charge, and I thought you could handle it.”

  Both guys look like deer in headlights. They probably know it’s best not to get between two pissed off Hart girls.

  I say through gritted teeth, “Becca, this wasn’t my fault and you know it.”

  Becca rants, “You are a complete nightmare! I can’t believe you get yourself drawn into this crazy shit time and time again. Everywhere you are, there’s trouble.”

  “What was I supposed to do? I didn’t know any of this was going on!”

  “Yes, but weird things happen when you’re around.”

  “Again, this is in no way my fault, and I’m tired of you insinuating that it is.”

  “You’re going to give your poor parents both a heart attack.”

  I warn, “My parents are not going to find out.” She had better not tattle on me to my parents.

  “Really? Because no one in this town gossips or anything.”

  “They’re in Florida. It’s not like they’re going to overhear it at the supermarket.”

&nbs
p; She says, “No, but they have a phone, and some busybody is bound to call them, Einstein.” Shit. I hadn’t thought about that. “And furthermore, you are so freaking fired.”

  I gasp. “Fired? Why?”

  “Because you’re a giant pain in my ass.”

  “I don’t think you can fire me for that,” I huff.

  “The hell I can’t! It’s bad enough that the place is a crime scene, but having you here is going to cause a ruckus right now, so it’s best if you stay far away.”

  Tears spring to my eyes. I guess I am kind of a mess. I mumble, “Fine. I was getting tired of the stupid job anyway.”

  Becca blows out a breath and grips my shoulders. “Lizzie, I’m sorry. I’m only mad at you because I love you. I’m terrified for you, mostly since I know you don’t care as much about your safety as the rest of us do. Please stick close to Brody and don’t do anything stupid.”

  “It almost sounds like you care,” I say snidely.

  “I do care, cousin. Be safe.”

  I grunt in reply, turning on my heel and marching out the door.

  I can’t believe Becca fired me. What a totally bitchy thing to do! None of this was my fault. Well, except if you count the fact that I’ve been investigating Lydia and may have gotten too close to the truth, and now she’s decided to come after me. I am so ready for this to be over.

  Brody lets out a low whistle. “Wow. She didn’t waste any time firing you. That’s family dysfunction at its finest.”

  I shrug.

  Putting a hand on my shoulder, he says cajolingly, “Look at the bright side. You’ll have more time to spend with me.”

  I nod and try to smile, but it probably comes off more like a pitiful grimace. The parking lot is much emptier than before. Most of the emergency vehicles have left. The news vans and the gawkers must have gotten their fill of tonight’s festivities, because they’re for the most part gone as well. Whew. That should make this evening at least a little bit easier on me. Blake is still here, though, leaning against his car.

  “Can you give me a second?” I ask Brody.

  He glances at Blake and then back to me. “Make it quick.”

  I approach Blake, and he very wisely doesn’t hug me in front of Brody this time. He says, “Did you notice the news vans have all packed up and gone home? And no one tried to bother you for an interview?”