by Liliana Hart
I nodded, feeling like I could actually accomplish the task if I closed my eyes. “Stop dodging your mother,” I said. “She just found out she has a grandchild from the media. You need to talk to her.”
“I had to talk to you first,” he said. “I’m going to see her next. I love you. And I need you. Not for an election or my pride or any reason other than the fact that it’s always been you. You’re my heart and soul. And I’m humbly putting them both in your hands.”
With those parting words, he reset the alarm and then locked the door behind him when he left. I wasn’t sure how long I stood in the kitchen, staring after him, trying to decide if he’d even been there at all or if I was just so desperate to see him my mind had conjured the whole thing.
I shook my head, trying to clear the cobwebs, and breathed in the lingering scent of him. He’d been real. And I had choices to make. I turned out the lights and shuffled out of the kitchen, making my way to my office. The couch beckoned me and I grabbed the plush blanket that hung over the back of my office chair and wrapped it around me before curling up on the couch. My eyes closed before my head hit the pillow.
2
I woke suddenly and with an alertness that seemed odd considering my exhaustion. I looked toward the window and saw the gray clouds of an impending storm and no sun in sight. I hated doing funerals in the rain. The thought of the funeral had me panicking. I looked toward the clock on the wall and breathed out a sigh of relief. I hadn’t slept through. It was just after eight in the morning.
“Wow, you must have ears like a bat,” Emmy Lu said. My gaze went to the door that was cracked wide enough for Emmy Lu to stick her head in. “I barely made a sound when I turned the knob.”
“Come on in,” I told her, swinging my legs around so my feet touched the floor. I hadn’t slept in the most comfortable position, and my body was protesting, but I was just thankful for what little sleep I’d had.
Emmy Lu had only been working for me for a short while, but it felt like she’d been there forever. She was so efficient and organized and loyal I wondered how I’d ever gotten anything done without her.
She was a decade or so older than I was, and she had that soft, round, motherly look that guaranteed no bull and great hugs. Her five boys could attest to that. She had a lot of hair that was always piled on the top of her head and seemed to grow larger as the day went on, and her cheeks were perpetually rosy.
“I’m sorry to disturb you,” she said. “I know you need the rest, but a call came in from the sheriff’s office.”
Dread filled my stomach at the mention of the sheriff’s office. It had only been a couple of hours since I’d seen Jack face to face, and his presence had stayed with me even in sleep. I’d dreamed of him, expecting to have him next to me when I woke up, so the disappointment of waking alone on the couch in my office brought things back into perspective.
“What happened?” I asked, stretching my neck from side to side.
“Dispatch tried to reach you on your cell phone, but you left it in the refrigerator,” she said, holding it up. “I saw it this morning when I went to make a fresh pot of coffee. I charged it for you, and it still works.”
“Yippee,” I said, taking the phone from her.
She snorted a laugh and said, “Barbara Blanton finally called me on my cell so I could pass on the message. Of course, that’s not all she wanted. That woman would’ve sold secrets to Hitler as long as she was the first to get to pass on the gossip. I finally had to pretend like I had bad reception and hung up on her. Why anyone would have made a gossip like her a dispatcher is beyond me.”
“She’s been there a million years,” I said. “And you know how it works with county employees. It’s impossible to get rid of them. Who died?”
“Looks like a cyclist got hit by a car out on County Road 36. Vehicular homicide. Looks like he’s been out there a couple of hours, but it’s a pretty deserted stretch of road so it took a while before someone drove by and saw him.”
I grimaced. Cars could do a lot of damage to the human body. “I’ve got the funeral at ten.”
“Got it covered,” Emmy Lu said. “All the plans are in place and everything is set at the church. Sheldon and Lily will both be there.”
Sheldon Durkus had been my assistant for the past few months. To give him credit, he’d jumped right in and hadn’t quit after he was almost killed at a morticians’ convention. He was taking his exams to get his license at the end of the month, and though his social skills left a lot to be desired, he was great at organization and embalming, so I was keeping my fingers crossed his awkwardness around the grieving would pass.
Lily Bennet was my pathology intern, at least until the semester ended and she graduated. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do without her. She was brilliant, and she’d taken it upon herself to take Sheldon under her wing and get him out of his mother’s basement so he could converse with the world. It had crossed my mind that Lily might be the perfect person to take my position as coroner if I resigned. Though the position itself didn’t really have a lot going for it, so most sane people would run away from the offer as fast as they could.
“Okay,” I said, realizing I couldn’t put it off. “I’ll get showered and head that way.” I stood up and looked down at the phone. My screen was covered with missed messages and calls. I cleared the screen. I wasn’t ready to delve into all that yet, so it was best to pretend it wasn’t there.
“They said to hurry,” she said. “The rain is holding off for now, but they don’t know how long.”
“Got it,” I said. And then I cleared my throat and met her gaze. “Thank you for keeping things together the last couple of days. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Oh, honey,” Emmy Lu said, coming over and wrapping her arms around me. “Of course you could have. But that’s what a team does. We all take up the slack when one of us is down. You and Jack are going to get this figured out. Sometimes men do stupid things. They can’t seem to help themselves. I’ve got to think the good Lord had himself a laugh when he created men and women so differently. It’s any wonder the species survived without killing each other.
“You go on to that crime scene and show everyone what you’re made of,” she said. “All this nonsense now is nothing compared to what you’ve been through before. And remember that men aren’t as tough as we are, not when it comes to issues of the heart. Jack’s going to need you once he manages to get his foot out of his mouth. Remember what I said about teamwork. When one of you is down, the other takes up the slack. That’s marriage, right?”
I was crying. I wasn’t sure when I started, but the more she held on and stroked my back in nice, slow circles, the harder the tears fell. I didn’t really know what parental hugs felt like, but all I could think of now was how much I’d missed out on in my childhood if they were anything like what Emmy Lu was giving me now.
“You give good hugs,” I said, timidly putting my arms around her and hugging her back.
“Well, of course I do,” she said, chuckling. “It just takes practice. You go on and get cleaned up and head out. Your bag and camera are on the hooks in the mudroom, and you’ve got fresh coveralls and boots in the back of the Suburban if you need them.”
“I love you,” I blurted out, and then immediately felt awkward. I wasn’t sure I’d ever told anyone besides Jack that I loved them. But I did love her. Emmy Lu had babysat me as a kid and given me as much love and attention then as she did now.
“I love you too, sugar pie,” she said. “Don’t worry about a thing here. We’re so organized things are practically running themselves. You go take care of this victim, and then you go take care of your marriage. It’s all about priority.”
She gave me a little wave and closed the door behind her. I padded into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She was right. I needed to decide on my priorities. Jack had screwed up. There was no question about that. But I could either wallow in his mistakes and my misery, or I c
ould make the choice to heal and move forward. I couldn’t imagine my life without Jack in it, and that was all the answer I needed.
King George was a rural county with lots of farmland and national parks. The terrain was flat in some areas, more along the southern part of the county in King George Proper where the population was denser and where the naval station was located.
The more north you moved, the more the flatland turned to rolling hills and thick copses of trees. The houses were fewer and farther between, and the inconvenience of country living was outweighed by the clear skies and fresh air. The closer to the Potomac you got, the more the hills turned to rocky cliffs and towering pines that seemed to grow from the rocks. That was the area where Jack and I lived.
County Road 36 was about a twenty-minute drive from the funeral home. I’d showered and dressed quickly, and I felt somewhat refreshed. The clouds were moving across the sky quickly, and in the distance, I could see the storm moving straight for us. The temperature was hovering around forty degrees. It was the kind of day that deserved hot cocoa and fireplaces, not funerals and crime scenes. I’d chosen sturdy jeans, a thick black cable-knit sweater, and my rain boots.
I hadn’t planned on messing with my makeup or hair, but Emmy Lu’s words stuck in my head. I was going to show up with my head held high and let them see what I was made of. So I’d used concealer to hide the dark bruises under my eyes and brushed on blush to put color in my cheeks. There wasn’t much I could do with my hair except to pull it back so it wasn’t hanging in my face while I examined the body. It was getting too long. It was time to chop it off.
There was a cop car with flashing lights parked haphazardly and blocking the road where the accident had happened. Officer Plank leaned against the hood casually, checking his phone. He was still a rookie, and he’d clearly drawn the short straw. If the scowl on his cherubic face was anything to go by, he wasn’t happy about being stuck on traffic duty instead of down at the crime scene.
He brightened some when he saw me, and I rolled down my window as I turned into the tight space he’d left in the road for official vehicles to get through. A few days before, we’d been in an armed robbery situation together, and moments like that tend to bond people. It also helped get some of the rookie shine off.
“Hey, Doc,” he said, his ruddy cheeks deepening in color.
Poor kid. He was probably a worse poker player than I was, and that was saying a lot.
“Hey, Plank,” I said. “I’m here for pickup. Anything I need to know?”
“I don’t know,” he said, his scowl moving back into place. “I’ve been stuck here. But I heard it was a hit-and-run. Don’t know why a guy would be out riding this morning. The fog was real bad. I went on shift at six and it took me an extra twenty minutes to get to the station.”
“Who knows,” I said. “But I bet he wishes he’d slept in now.”
Plank grimaced, and I realized he was still fresh enough from the academy to not appreciate gallows humor. I gave him a departing wave and drove past his car and onto the two-lane road.
There was barely a shoulder, and it definitely wasn’t the safest road for a cyclist to ride, but even I could see the appeal as I accelerated up the first hill and saw the view. There was another cop car parked at the top of the next hill with lights flashing, and I carefully passed it, not sure what the scene would look like on the other side.
Cop cars were parked all over the road, most of them with their lights flashing, but there was an area cordoned off at the bottom of the hill where I could see the cyclist and what was left of his bike. There was an ambulance parked away from the police cars. They would’ve been dispatched with the initial 911 call.
I maneuvered around the cars until I reached the yellow crime scene tape and parked. It was obvious by the curious stares of the cops who’d cordoned off the area that they were surprised to see me. There were no secrets in small towns.
I remembered what Emmy Lu said about keeping my chin up, and I took a deep breath. When it had come out that my parents had been criminals wanted by the FBI, the looks I’d gotten from most cops and friends alike had been scornful or judgmental, as if they couldn’t trust me around their handbags or the silver. The looks I was getting now were ones of pity. I think I preferred the former.
I knew all the cops on site, but there was one person missing. Jack wasn’t on the scene, and I wondered if he’d done it on purpose to defuse the gossip and let me do my job. Or maybe he was putting out a million other fires and figured I could handle this one.
I got out of the Suburban and went to the back, opening the hatch, and I grabbed my medical bag and camera. I slung the bag across my shoulder and pulled out a pair of gloves, blowing into them before putting them on.
“Hey, Doc,” Officer Chen said.
“Chen,” I said, nodding. “How’s it going?”
“Better than this guy,” she said automatically. “What about you? Anything new and exciting happening in your life?”
My eyes snapped up and met hers, and I saw the humor and understanding there. I choked on a laugh and covered my mouth and added a few extra coughs so no one thought I was laughing over the victim.
“Same old, same old,” I told her.
“That’s a shame,” she said. “People are assholes. Don’t listen to the hype. None of us are worried about the election. The sheriff will win in a landslide.”
I blew out a breath and said, “From your mouth to God’s ears.”
Kristi Chen had only been at the KGSO for a couple of years, but she was far from a rookie. She was a transplant from Atlanta, and she had a dozen years as a cop under her belt. Her size fooled many—she was petite and her uniforms had to be specially made because they didn’t come in sizes small enough—but she had multiple black belts and I’d seen her bring grown men to their knees in tears during an arrest.
I found it curious that Chen was the only one who’d had the guts to speak to me. All the male cops had found something to do so they looked busy and wouldn’t have to make eye contact. It was hard when a couple was fighting, especially in a work situation because there was an instinct to take sides. Jack’s cops were and should be loyal to him. They all knew what would happen if someone like Floyd Parker was elected sheriff. Anyone with rank would be out of a job and everyone else would be miserable.
I lifted the crime scene tape and went under, and then I made my way toward the body.
“Who found the victim?” I asked, taking in the scene.
There was a mangled bicycle about two feet outside of the white stripe that designated the narrow shoulder of the road. Several yards from the bicycle was the body of a man.
He was wearing the proper gear—expensive from what I could tell—but even the best equipment couldn’t provide the protection needed from a couple of tons of metal going at a high rate of speed.
“A motorist called it into 911 at 7:51 this morning,” Chen said.
“Did they see who hit him?” I asked, taking some pictures of the position of the bicycle and the body at different angles.
“Nope,” Chen said, rocking back on her thick-soled boots. “The lady that called was in hysterics. She’s sitting over in the ambulance breathing into a bag.”
“It’s not every day you find a body on the side of the road,” I said. And then I added, “At least not for most people.”
That made Chen snort, and I almost started to relax, but I felt a shift in the atmosphere
and I knew Jack must had arrived. All the cops on scene went still, and though none of them looked like they were watching, I knew they were.
I figured the best way to get everyone moving again was to act like everything was normal, so I turned and watched Jack lift the yellow tape and come straight for me. He’d managed to catch a shower and change clothes, but he hadn’t bothered shaving. I rarely saw Jack with a beard, but apparently he’d decided to keep it. He wore khakis with a lot of pockets and a chambray shirt with King George County Sher
iff’s Office stitched over the breast pocket. The shirt was tucked in tightly and he wore a black duty belt around his narrow waist with all his gear, and his badge was pinned over his heart. He hadn’t bothered with a jacket.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “I got caught up at the office.”
“I just got here,” I said. “Chen was filling me in. Victim is a Caucasian male. Has anyone touched him?”
“The EMTs checked him when they arrived and determined he was deceased right off,” Chen said. “First cops on scene immediately secured the area, and no one has touched anything.”
“Let’s see if he’s got some ID,” Jack said. “You have extra gloves in your bag?”
I handed him a pair and his hand barely touched mine as he took them from my grasp. Just that small touch had felt like a thousand volts of electricity down my arm. I turned and moved toward the body quickly, trying to settle my nerves.
“Maybe his shirt pocket?” I asked. “There’s a zipper pouch.”
“He’s probably got GU gels in there,” Jack said, squatting down at the front of the bike. “I always kept mine in the front zipper pouch.”
“Wait, what?” I asked, confused. “You always kept what in the front of what? I haven’t seen you on a bicycle since we were thirteen.”
Jack smiled and looked up at me, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I used to cycle quite a bit before I became sheriff. That was before you moved back. Didn’t have much time for it after I was elected, but I enjoyed it. There are a couple of local teams around here. This guy is a serious rider. His bike probably costs ten grand, maybe more. He’s got all the equipment and riding gear.”
“Holy cow,” Chen said. “Ten grand for a bicycle?”
“Some are a lot more expensive than that,” Jack said.
He unzipped the black bag attached to the handlebars and pulled out a phone and a wallet. Chen opened an evidence bag and Jack dropped the phone inside and then he flipped open the wallet.
