by Radclyffe
“No, I’ll handle it.” Olivia paused. “On second thought, yes. As soon as you get in, find Archie and compare notes with him on last night, make sure we have everything covered. And then check on the status of the posts. You can update me after I’ve made some calls and handled things with the family.”
“Okay, sure. I can do that.”
Olivia chose her next words carefully. She’d been trying to find the opening since she’d reclaimed some of her senses in the shower, and this was the perfect opportunity. “With Dr. Greenly in the hospital, I’m going to be tied up a great deal of the time. Just so you know it’s nothing personal.”
Jay flinched but managed to keep her expression neutral. There it was, the not-so-subtle notice she’d been expecting of how things were going to be—or not be, more likely.
Nothing she could protest about, or even had any right to. “Right. I understand.”
“Good.” Olivia gathered her purse and keys. “I’m glad we have that settled.”
Chapter Twenty-three
Olivia leaned back in her desk chair and closed her eyes. Almost one in the morning and still one more family to meet with. The first notification of the night had been Jane Doe, who had become Mary Ann Scofield, age twenty years, six months, a junior at an elite private liberal arts college. Her parents had arrived at the ME’s building just before seven, the first of three families scheduled to gather in the small, secluded lounge adjacent to a long, narrow, unadorned viewing room where a body, swathed in a white sheet, could be brought in on a gurney and exposed under too-harsh lights for the family to formally claim. Most of the time, the identification signaled the destruction of a family’s hopes and dreams.
Mary Ann’s parents had been part of a missionary group in Southeast Asia, out of contact for much of their six weeks abroad, and had not realized Mary Ann had dropped out of sight soon after they’d left the country. Even upon their arrival home a few days before, they hadn’t thought it unusual not to hear from her right away. Her mother—pale, shell-shocked, and disbelieving—had explained in a monotone that Mary Ann had never been good about keeping track of time.
“Always missing the bus to school,” she’d said in a choked voice, as if Mary Ann were still a child at home.
Neither she nor her husband could believe their daughter had been involved with drugs.
“She was raised to be smarter than that,” her father said hoarsely, his red-rimmed eyes fixed on the pale frozen profile of his daughter’s body. “She wouldn’t have done something like that if she’d had any idea of the danger.”
“Young people often don’t realize that some of the things available to them can be deadly, even the first time,” Olivia said, while knowing her words brought no comfort, at least not then. Perhaps at some later time, when something penetrated beyond the pain.
Victor Gutierrez’s family had arrived shortly after that, his single mother and her mother, both inconsolable. No, they hadn’t known Victor had any involvement with drugs. He was a good boy, a good student, a good son. He never would’ve done something like this unless his friends had urged him on. The next boy’s father had boiled with rage, his timid wife cowering silently by his side. How could the boy have been so stupid with his whole life ahead of him. A scholarship to a good college, the best, better than anybody in the family had ever been to, after all the family had sacrificed for him. He wasted it all.
Olivia had no answers and no words of comfort that would temper his fury but slipped her hand behind his wife’s elbow as she swayed unsteadily, staring at her son.
“Did he suffer?” the mother asked in a quiet, diffident whisper.
“No,” Olivia said. “I don’t believe he did.”
Tasha and Armand Abraham, one of the other MEs, were just finishing the third boy from the club. She would wait until they were done and meet with the family. None of the other families so far had had any information that would’ve been helpful for the police. Similar stories—healthy, successful children, loved and held with high aspirations for bright, successful futures. Olivia suspected the last family would be much the same. She’d promised Sandy Sullivan a call when all the identifications were confirmed. Sandy would probably interview the families again at some time, but unless something definitive arose during Olivia’s discussions with them, it probably wouldn’t be a priority.
After almost forty-eight hours with little sleep, her mind was dull and sluggish. All the same, she was grateful to be so busy. The meeting with the staff had gone well, and after the shock of Greenly’s sudden illness had worn off, everyone seemed comfortable with her taking the reins for as long as he was incapacitated. Greenly’s wife had updated her late that afternoon, saying the cardiologist expected Greenly would be in the hospital for another four or five days and not ready to go back to work for at least six weeks.
After talking to his wife, Olivia wondered if Greenly would ever return.
At the very least she could count on six weeks of intense physical and mental work. She hadn’t exaggerated when she’d told Jay she would be very busy, even if she was glad for other reasons. Every spare moment when she hadn’t been wrestling with some administrative problem or consoling the bereaved, she’d thought about Jay. Her concentration was shot—glimpses of Jay in bed, errant snippets of past conversations, visceral imprints of the sound of her voice, the heat of her flesh—kept intruding when she least expected. Six weeks of intense obligation and round-the-clock work wouldn’t be enough to dull the memories or the desire, but it would help.
Olivia swiveled to her computer, brought up the message from her Go opponent, and read it again.
I believe in five moves, you will have defeated me. Congratulations, you are a worthy opponent. Shall we meet again in another contest?
Olivia typed, Yes. You are the perfect opponent, someone who challenges me to be better than I believed I could be.
She read it over again, hit send, and then rose to return the Go board to its starting position. She carefully arranged the stones, obliterating her last battle plan, wiping out the strategy she’d spent hours contemplating, preparing for the next encounter. It wasn’t lost on her that her closest confidant, the person who occupied more of her thoughts, who respected her in a way she appreciated, was a stranger she’d never met. Until Jay. Once that person had been her mother and then, she’d believed, mistakenly, Marcos. Jay had swept into that aching void in her life and swept away her determination never to allow her irrational needs to rule her reason again.
Olivia turned from the board, took in the shelves laden with journals and textbooks, the files stacked on her desk. This office was her safe haven, even if it served more as a hideout than a sanctuary. Jay was the only one who really spent any time in here, other than her. She hadn’t noticed before how easily Jay had become part of her life.
Olivia sagged back into her chair to gather her wits and her waning energy before starting in on the next task on her list. Before she could decide what to tackle first, someone knocked on her door. Frowning, she double-checked the time. Slightly after one. Other than the night diener and Tasha and Armand in the autopsy suite, everyone should be long gone.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Jay.”
Olivia’s heart galloped, a troubling reaction, but not as troubling as the throb of arousal that sprang up instantly. Her system, it seemed, had already established its new set of reflexes, and Jay was tuned to wake all her senses. She steadied herself, ignoring the fluttering in her chest and the quivering deep inside. “It’s open. Come in.”
Jay entered, a McDonald’s bag in her right hand. “I went over to Children’s Hospital for fuel. I’m willing to bet you haven’t had dinner.”
“Ah,” Olivia said, searching for an excuse to decline. Her stomach rumbled, and even if she hadn’t been famished, she wasn’t good at pretending. She was glad to see her. Very glad. “No, I haven’t.”
“And as I recall, we missed breakfast, and lunch was a fritte
r.”
Olivia laughed, a lightness she couldn’t discount and had no desire to smother energizing her. “And so you decided McDonald’s in the middle of the night was a good idea? Have you ever heard of heart disease?”
Jay grinned, that disarming, oh-so-sexy grin. “Surgeons are immune.”
Olivia tilted her head. “Maybe, although I don’t believe there’s any evidence for that. But you—”
Jay set the bag on the desk. “I know, not a surgeon anymore. But I figure I’ve got a grace period.”
“Does it still hurt when you say that?” Olivia asked, unable to treat Jay as if she didn’t matter. Unable to pretend she didn’t care.
Jay shook her head. “I’m pretty much used to the change in self-image now. Not as big a switch as I thought.”
“Good. I’m very glad.”
“Mind if I join you?”
Olivia glanced up, saw that Jay had closed the door. “No. Sit down.”
Jay pulled the chair across the rug until she sat opposite Olivia at the desk and opened the bag. She passed Olivia a large order of fries and a double cheeseburger. “Besides, I could tell from our first meeting you weren’t a vegetarian.”
“Why is that?”
“You burn too hot.”
Heat flooded her face at that. “I think most vegetarians would take issue with that, you know.”
“I hope most vegetarians aren’t in a position to know about you.”
Olivia plucked a fry from the cardboard sleeve and munched on it. “None that I know of, come to think of it.” She paused. “And none in a very long time.”
“Mind if I ask you why? You’re beautiful, you’re passionate, you’re so fucking sexy I’ve been walking around in knots all day long, just wanting you to make me—”
“Jay,” Olivia warned. “Do you have an off button?”
“Not where you’re concerned, apparently.” Jay unwrapped her cheeseburger, took a bite. After a moment she said, “And you’re not answering me again. Why not, Olivia? Why no lovers?”
Her tone was quiet, not challenging, but insistent all the same.
“It’s not something I enjoy talking about.”
“Because you think you failed or…no,” Jay said thoughtfully, “because you think you made a mistake.”
Olivia sat up, anger coursing through her. “I know I made a mistake. A colossal one. And no, I haven’t forgiven myself.”
“Absolution, I think you called it when you were talking about me and my guilt over the accident.”
Olivia shook her head. “That’s completely different. You stopped to help someone who needed aid. You were hurt, nearly killed, your life as you knew it destroyed, and here you are. Succeeding again. Excelling again. There’s nothing to compare what you did, and my marrying Marcos Ramon.”
“Why did you marry him?”
“Because I was young and stupid and he was very, very good at making me feel special and desirable.”
“He wouldn’t have had to work very hard at that,” Jay said, fighting down a surge of jealousy that made her want to find the guy and remove a few body parts, “since you are special and sexy and a million other amazing things.”
“What I was was a naïve young woman who fell for the charms of an older man who made me feel the way no one had before.”
“I don’t think I like this guy very much.”
Olivia laughed, despite herself. “Actually, you probably would if you met him. He’s sophisticated, accomplished, charming. He was a colleague—kind of a friendly competitor, as far as academics compete—of my mother’s. That’s how I met him. He came on a dig in the Andes when I was nineteen.”
“And I take it he turned out to be a dick?”
Olivia sighed. “What he turned out to be was a very clever man who convinced me I was the most important thing in his world, while he was actually using me to gain access to some of the people working with my mother and, ultimately, to her. By the time I realized he was having an affair with one of my mother’s assistants, he’d already compromised some of her work. I don’t think she’s forgiven me yet.”
“You didn’t put him up to it, I’m sure,” Jay said.
“Of course not.” Olivia took a bite of the hamburger and then set it aside. “But I also didn’t see him for what he was. I was too caught up in my obsession with him, or at least my obsession with what he made me feel. I’m not even sure if I’d known, what I would’ve done. He was a drug.”
“Nobody before him?”
“No,” Olivia said, weariness making her less cautious than usual. “I traveled with my mother most of my childhood and teenage years, so I wasn’t schooled conventionally. Actually, I tested out of the first two years of college, so I hadn’t had much experience with…anything, really, when I met him. And Marcos was so enchanting, his attention bringing out a part of me I hadn’t even known existed. The need to experience that…insanity…suddenly took over my life.”
“Sounds like pretty normal puberty to me,” Jay said. “Maybe you started a little later than most given your upbringing, but that kind of sexual and emotional insanity is pretty common. It sure was for me. Maybe you should give yourself a break.”
“I wasn’t an adolescent, and because of me, my mother’s work and reputation were endangered.” Olivia grimaced. “I would’ve done anything to keep feeling the way he made me feel. I was a fool.”
“I understand what you’re saying.” Jay folded her empty cheeseburger wrapper into a precise square and dropped it into the empty red french fry sleeve. “I know what it’s like when someone throws open doors inside you didn’t know were there and you end up riding an incredible wave of excitement. You just want it again and again.”
“I don’t want it again,” Olivia said. “Believe me, I’m done with mindless passion.”
Jay let out a long breath. “What about pleasure, then, safe on your own terms?”
Olivia shook her head. “I appreciate it, but that’s hardly fair to…someone, is it.”
“Well, that would be for someone to say.” Jay sat forward, done with word games. “What if I told you I was good with that? Your terms, your call when and where and how much.”
“You might think now you’d be good with that, but you…” Olivia laughed softly. “You have too much inside you, too much power, too much passion, to hold anything back. You deserve to receive the same.”
“Again, up to me to say,” Jay said.
Olivia rose, gathered the trash into the white bag, crumpled it, and dropped it into her wastebasket. “Yes, you’re absolutely right. It is for you to say what you want, and it’s for me to say what I’m comfortable with, what I can do. What I want to do. And right now, the only thing I have room for, time for, is right here in this building. I have to go meet with the last family now.”
“Of course.” Jay grabbed her cane and stood as Olivia headed for the door. “Say, Olivia?”
Olivia looked back, one hand on the door.
“Are you sure it’s Marcos you’re trying to get away from? Because he’s not here any longer.”
Wordlessly, Olivia walked out and quietly closed the door.
Chapter Twenty-four
When Sandy walked into the bedroom, Dell was lying facedown on the bed, fully clothed and sound asleep. For half a second she contemplated dropping down beside her but decided she had to have a shower before anything else. She was pretty certain she could still smell the morgue in her hair. Even though the place didn’t smell bad, with the ubiquitous hospital smell of cleanser and whatever else they used to sanitize places like that, in her imagination, she smelled death. The memory of cloying sweetness masking the bitter tang of decay was real enough, and not anything she wanted to take into bed with her and Dell.
Taking just a second to grab on to the scent of life, needing the warmth and excitement and steadiness Dell brought her, she leaned over and kissed Dell’s cheek. When Dell’s eyelashes fluttered, she whispered, “Hey, Rookie, you want to take a s
hower?”
Dell grunted and rolled onto her side, reaching out blindly with one arm, catching Sandy around the waist and dragging her down to the bed. Eyes still closed, she burrowed her face into Sandy’s neck. “Depends. You’re going to be there too?”
“What, you were thinking of someone else, maybe?”
Dell drew back, her lids lifting, her gorgeous mouth curved into a slow smile. “I never think of anyone else, baby.”
Sandy kissed her. “Good answer. And yeah, I’m going to be there. It’ll have to be a quickie, though.”
“The shower or the sex?”
“Either or both. I gotta get some sleep, and then I gotta get back out there.”
“Yeah, me too.” Dell rolled onto her back and pulled Sandy on top of her. “You getting anywhere?”
“Uh-uh.” Sandy braced herself on her elbows, her legs naturally fitting between Dell’s, everything naturally fitting, just like always. The pall of pain and loss lifted, and then it was just the two of them, like always, in tune, together. “Didn’t turn up anything more than what we already had. None of the dead kids had any serious drug history. We still have to talk to their friends, see if we can get a line on who hooked them up with whoever sold them the shit they took, but you know what that’ll mean.”
“Yeah, a lot of hours chasing after a bunch of kids who probably don’t know anything or are afraid to mention anything they might suspect, but you never know, you might hit on something.”
“Well, that’s the job.” Sandy shrugged. “But man, sometimes getting through to these privileged types is tough. They just don’t believe bad things can happen to them. At least out on the street, people know the score.”
“Funny, isn’t it,” Dell said, “how the so-called criminals are more help than the upstanding citizens.”
“Well, the girls know we’re trying to look out for them, at least.” Sandy rested her cheek on Dell’s chest. “What about you? Anything?”
