She Wore Mourning

by P. D. Workman

  He checked the visor flaps for anything else of interest, ran his fingers along the cracks of the seats to see if anything had been dropped and lodged there. Poked through the garbage, but didn’t find anything other than a stray Twinkie wrapper. Her secret vice.

  His search of the car complete, he climbed out, locked the doors again, and walked away.

  Zachary sat in his recliner, the medical examiner’s report in his lap, a half-eaten lunch on the side table by his elbow. He had only done a page-flip of the medical examiner’s report, seeing how detailed it was and if anything jumped out at him. It was relatively short, a cursory review of what the police had said from the beginning was an accident, not a violent death or the mysterious death of a vital person struck down in their prime. The tests and notes all seemed to be routine.

  Was there any point in doing more than that? He knew that Molly didn’t have much money to put into the investigation. A detailed review of the medical examiner’s report, all the police notes he could get his hands on, and re-interviewing everyone he would want to talk to in order to fully satisfy himself that it had been an accident would take a lot of hours and run up the bill unnecessarily.

  His discussions with Spencer and Isabella hadn’t rung any alarm bells. They both seemed to be just what they were, parents grieving the unexpected loss of their only child, getting through it the best they could manage. There wasn’t any sign that it hadn’t been an accident.

  Other than Molly’s assertion that the boy was afraid of water.

  Spencer had shrugged the statement off, agreeing that Declan had a fear of water, but that it wouldn’t have prevented him from going near the water. Zachary didn’t think that either of them was lying; they were just interpreting him differently.

  Zachary ran Kenzie’s business card through his fingers, feeling the smooth, sharp edge. Kenzie Kirsch. She had written another number on it; he assumed it was her home or cell number. It was kind of her to give it to him when she saw he was feeling bad. Did she want him to call, or was it just a gesture? He hadn’t asked her for her number. Women didn’t offer their numbers to men if they didn’t want them to call, did they?

  Looking down at the medical examiner’s report, Zachary reached for his phone. He dialed her number quickly, already rehearsing what he was going to say. Starting conversations with women was not one of his strengths. Give him a suspect interview any day.

  “Hello?”

  “Um—Kenzie? It’s Zachary. Goldman Investigations.”

  “Zachary! I’m glad you called.” He didn’t hear any deception in her voice. She sounded genuinely warm. “How are you?”

  He listened for background noise that might indicate she was out with friends or a date or doing something she didn’t want interrupted.

  “I’m okay. I’m sorry for how I was earlier. I… had something on my mind.”

  “No, it’s okay. I understand. Everybody has a bad day now and then. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” There was a pause. He imagined her sitting by a roaring fire, having a sip of wine before bed. It was a nice image. “Did you have a chance to look at the medical examiner’s report yet?”

  “Only a high-level review. Nothing that jumps out at me on a browse through. I’ll have to spend a few hours going through all the details… if I’m going to pursue the case.”

  “I thought you had already taken the case?”

  “I did. I mean… if I decide to take it any further. The grandmother, the one who hired me, I don’t think she has any means of support. Maybe her daughter is helping out with the bills.”

  “She’s that artist on TV, right? The Happy Artist.”

  “That’s the one.”

  “She’s really popular. I bet she makes a ton of money.”

  “They appear to be well-off, but the grandmother isn’t. If there’s nothing here to find… I’d just be stealing from her.”

  “Dr. Wiltshire is very conscientious. I’m sure he wouldn’t have returned a finding of accidental drowning if he had any doubt.”

  “No. I don’t want to imply he’s done anything wrong. The family just wants someone to go over everything one more time.”

  “Do you want someone to go over the report with you? That would save you some time and help you decide if there was anything else to do.”

  Zachary’s heart gave a couple of extra beats that almost hurt. “Would that somebody be you?” he suggested.

  “It might be.” Kenzie’s voice was light and playful.

  “Could this review be over dinner, maybe?”

  “That would be nice.”

  “Are you free tomorrow night?”

  “Sure. Where do you want to meet?”

  Hardly believing that such a thing was happening to him, Zachary came up with an acceptable restaurant and time, and they agreed to get together. After he had hung up the phone, Zachary closed his eyes and again pictured Kenzie all cozied up, sipping her glass of red wine.

  Chapter Five

  Zachary slept well for once, dreaming of Kenzie, so even though he awoke long before he wanted to be up, he felt lighter and more energetic than he had for a long time. Since he was going to be reviewing the medical examiner’s report with Kenzie, he didn’t spend any more time on it, but reviewed his notes of his interviews with Spencer and Isabella and typed up a summary of each. He glanced over the news articles and releases he had collected.

  The phone rang, and the woman on the other end identified herself as Eugene Taft’s assistant and thanked him for his recent gift. Zachary almost laughed.

  It had not been easy to pin down Eugene Taft to get access to the police file, and in the end, Zachary had resorted to simply sending him the bottle of red wine Bowman had recommended, with a card congratulating him on his anniversary. Zachary had no idea if Taft was married, or if he had any other anniversary in the recent past or near future, but everyone had significant dates that they celebrated, and Zachary had thought that an anniversary gift would go over better than Christmas wishes. Besides which, he didn’t want anything to do with Christmas.

  “Yes, Officer Fitzgerald. I’m glad to hear he got it.”

  There was a hesitation on the other end as Fitzgerald tried to couch her inquiry regarding the bribe appropriately. “You had called the other day to see if Eugene had some time to see you, hadn’t you?”

  “Oh, I don’t need to take up any of his valuable time. He should have received a request through Mario Bowman about allowing me access to a file. It was pretty routine; I’m sure it’s just on his desk awaiting his signature.”

  “Which file was this?”

  “Declan Bond.”

  “Declan Bond,” she repeated vaguely. “Oh, the little boy who drowned…?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Are you a reporter?”

  “No, ma’am. I’m a private investigator. The family hired me to take another look at the case. Just to ease their minds that he covered everything. I’m not expecting to find anything unusual in the file.”

  “I see.”

  “If the request is not there, you could ask Bowman about it. He knows me from other cases I’ve helped out with.”

  “I think I will follow up with him,” she agreed. “I’ll be in touch.”

  “Tell Eugene ‘happy anniversary’ for me.”

  “I will.”

  She hung up. Smiling, Zachary put his travel mug under the coffee maker and brewed up a coffee to take with him for the site survey.

  The scene was bleak during the winter. The skeletons of trees and grasses were stark against the snow. There were no children playing, no dogs running, no ducks swimming. A few black birds flew overhead, the flapping of their wings loud in the silence.

  The pond was iced over and had not been cleared, so Zachary could only see the ominous shape of it beneath the snow, like an animal trap waiting to be sprung.

  Hopefully, there would be pictures on the police file, as it was surely a far different place during the summer.
Zachary paced around the pond, breaking a trail in the snow. A couple of times he stepped farther down than he expected, into an unseen dip or hole. He scanned the yards that backed onto the property, looking for anything suspicious or out of place. Even putting on his most paranoid goggles, he couldn’t see anything that indicated danger.

  The last thing he did was to walk to the Bonds’ back yard. He looked at it from the back, eyes alert for any hiding places, any breaks in the fence, anyone watching out their windows. He examined the gate, which could easily be opened from the back alley and still bore no lock. Anyone could have walked up to the yard and opened the gate. Would Declan have left with them? Would he have gone quietly with a stranger, or put up a fight? Had it been a stranger?

  He examined the back of the house. He could identify Spencer’s office, the master bedroom, and Declan’s bedroom. They all had good views of the yard. A stranger would have had to be pretty bold or sure of himself to walk right into the yard in view of those big windows.

  But during the summer, would there have been blinds drawn across the windows? Isabella claimed to have had a good view of Declan, but was she looking through the slats of blinds? Or was she standing in the full afternoon sun? Just because there were no blinds drawn during the winter, that didn’t mean they didn’t use them to keep out the full heat of the summer.

  Zachary looked at his watch and started the stopwatch function. Then he walked back to the pond.

  Zachary got to the restaurant before Kenzie, which was intentional. He didn’t want to be the guy who showed up late for a date, especially when she was also helping him out. He wanted to show her that she could trust him to be responsible and treat her with respect. After checking to make sure she hadn’t shown up there ahead of him, he went back outside and paced around a little, watching for her. Despite the weather having been only mildly cold when he had been at the pond, there was a biting wind. After a few minutes of toughing it out, he gave in and went back into the restaurant.

  Old Joe’s Steakhouse was a landmark. Casual, but with great service and even better food, everybody knew about it, and it was a wonder that anyone could ever get in without booking reservations three months ahead. Somehow, people knew which hours were the busiest and scheduled their dinners for quieter times, so Old Joe was able to serve a thriving population without becoming elite.

  “Are you ready to be seated, sir?” the college-aged boy leaned closer to Zachary to address him over the hum of the crowd. “I have your table ready.”

  Zachary looked at the door. “I don’t know; I was going to wait…”

  “We’ll bring your guest to you. You may as well sit and have a drink while you wait.”

  Zachary gave a shrug and followed the boy into the dining area. The tables were close together, and the room was noisy, but it didn’t feel overly crowded, just busy. Zachary followed the young man to his assigned table.

  “Uh… why don’t you get me a beer? I’m not sure what the lady will want.”

  “Sure. Any preference?”

  “No. Whatever’s on tap.”

  He kept an eye on his watch, but it was still too early for Kenzie to show up. When she eventually arrived, a quick glance showed Zachary that she was ten minutes early.

  “You’re here already,” Kenzie observed with a smile. “Neat printing and prompt. Have I finally found the perfect man?”

  “Not perfect by a long shot,” Zachary said with a sigh. “But the longer I can keep you fooled, the better.”

  “Ha.” She sat down across from him. “Then you shouldn’t be telling me!”

  The waiter came over to take Kenzie’s order. She eyed Zachary’s beer for a moment, but then ordered a glass of wine.

  Small talk wasn’t the easiest for him, so after perusing the menu and ordering, it wasn’t long before Zachary was digging the medical examiner’s report out of his case. They pushed their chairs together so that they could look at it at the same time instead of being across from each other.

  “You sure you want to discuss a medical examiner’s report over dinner?” Kenzie challenged. “Do you have a strong stomach?”

  “I’ve already been through it. There’s nothing too disturbing. It’s not bloody.”

  “Bodies in water bloat up pretty quickly…”

  “I’ve seen the pictures already,” Zachary said firmly. “I’m okay with this. Really.”

  It wasn’t until after he said it that he wondered whether she was trying to bow out. He had assumed that she would be perfectly okay with discussing the report over dinner. It had been her idea, after all. She was around the stuff all day, so he wouldn’t expect her to be squeamish. But it seemed too late to take his words back.

  “That is… unless…”

  Kenzie laughed. “No, I’m fine with it. Thanks for asking. Let’s go through it, then.”

  She took the medical examiner’s report from his hand and laid it flat on the table, starting in on a lecture on drowning victims, what a medical examiner would expect to find, and what might look different between an accidental drowning and foul play.

  “There was no bruising,” she pointed out, turning to a page with a series of photos of the body, both front and back. “If you’re going to hold someone under the water, then even if it’s a little child, there’s going to be a struggle, and there’s going to be bruising.”

  Zachary nodded. “Okay. No bruising.”

  “I’m sure you’ve seen this one on your favorite forensic show on TV. Someone is drowned in their bathroom, and then their body is disposed of in the river. How do you tell they were drowned somewhere else?”

  “Analyze the water in the lungs.”

  “Right. This is the analysis of the lungs. Their weight, showing they were waterlogged. Then an analysis of the pH, the salinity, the diatoms, any particulates…”

  “Diatoms?”

  “They take a sample of the water in the pond, and a sample of the water in his lungs, and look for diatoms. It’s a unique profile. Like fingerprinting.”

  “Oh.” Zachary nodded. He looked at the text of the report. “And they determined that Declan drowned in the pond.”

  “Right. He couldn’t have drowned anywhere else, or the profile of the water in his lungs would have been different.”

  “Particulates?” Zachary asked, trying to keep track of all that she was saying.

  Kenzie pointed to the section in the report. “When someone inhales water, they also inhale whatever else is in the water. Silt, bugs, plant life…”

  “Okay. Right. So that goes back to the pond as well, demonstrating that he drowned there.”

  “Yes.”

  “But why so much time spent on tying him to the pond? He was found floating face down in it. Isn’t all that already established?”

  “We have to double-check everything. Assume nothing.”

  “Right.”

  “The next few pages are blood tests…” Kenzie leaned closer to show Zachary. He could feel the heat of her body, and focused for the first time on the black knit dress she was wearing, which clung to her in all the right places. He could smell her scent and his own deodorant as he started to sweat.

  Their waiter returned with their steaks, carrying them over on sizzling hot plates.

  “Whoops, make some room, folks. Hot plates coming through.”

  Zachary grabbed the medical examiner’s report and case off the table so that the waiter could put the plates down.

  “Looks great,” Kenzie told the waiter. He checked on whether they needed refills, then left them to their dinner.

  “The blood tests were all normal?” Zachary asked. “I don’t need to check what each measurement means?”

  “Everything falls within normal parameters. Nothing suspicious.”

  Zachary nodded, and they both dug in. For a while, they ate in silence.

  “So how far do I go?” Zachary asked. “We review the medical examiner’s report. There’s nothing suspicious. Everything I do is chargeab
le. I could interview a million people, and it wouldn’t have any effect other than to run up the bill.”

  “Well…” Kenzie chewed, considering. “Why did the grandmother hire you?”

  “Peace of mind.”

  “She wants to be sure it was an accident.”

  “Well… no. She’d rather I found evidence of foul play.”

  Kenzie’s cutlery clattered. She stopped eating and stared at him. “What?”

  “She thinks it would ease the mother’s guilt if I found evidence that there was a third party involved. She wouldn’t have to blame herself for letting Declan wander off under her watch.”

  “Hmm.”

  Kenzie ate. Zachary paid attention to his own meal.

  “I think, either way, they get some peace of mind,” Kenzie said after a while. She was still chewing on her steak and potatoes. “They either get reassurance that there wasn’t any foul play, little Declan didn’t suffer at anyone’s hands, he just slipped away in a few moments. Or they get to let go of a little of the guilt. If there was a mysterious third party involved, then they weren’t negligent. There was nothing more they could have done to protect him.”

  “You think they’re going to be happy with the results either way?”

  “I can’t say anything for sure. What do I know? I think that it was such a shock to them, they’re having a hard time accepting it. When something happens out of the blue like that… a healthy kid one minute, and then the next he’s gone… they want to believe it’s not true. Somebody made a mistake. You see it on TV all the time, cold cases, reversal, someone on death row who was completely innocent… It’s part of our culture. So, they’re looking for that ‘oh, we were wrong.’”

  “Could be.” Zachary cut pieces from his steak and chewed the tender beef slowly. “I think you’re right about the shock. They’re all a little… removed from reality. Stuck in disbelief.”