by Malone, Cara
“Amelia. I’m a doctor—Simone and I met at a scene.”
“I figured you didn’t work at the firehouse,” Victor said. “My wife and I have met Simone’s whole crew over the years and I didn’t recognize you.”
“It’s nice that you’re so close with her,” Amelia said. Her own parents never would have come to the Medical Examiner’s Office to meet the people she worked with, but then again, her job involved dead bodies. It wasn’t exactly a conducive ‘take your parents to work’ setting.
“Have you been here long?” Celine asked.
“About ten minutes,” Amelia told her. “Do you mind if I wait with you?”
“Of course not,” Victor said. “We live about four hours away so we’re always grateful to know that Simone has people here looking out for her.”
“You must have been on the road pretty early,” Amelia said.
Celine nodded. “The ER doctor called us around midnight, after he got her stabilized.”
Amelia pointed out that they still had some time to wait before they could see Simone, and offered to go down to the cafeteria and get them all a round of coffee and some breakfast. The Oliviers accepted the coffee offer, and Amelia came back with that plus a bag of breakfast sandwiches in case they changed their mind about the food.
“You don’t have to drive up here to see Simone in the hospital often, do you?” she asked upon her return. The question had been nagging at her.
“No, thank God,” Celine said.
“She’s normally very careful, even if she does have a dangerous job,” Victor added.
“She was saving a child,” Amelia said. “Maybe that’s why she took a risk.”
She was starting to feel better, and she was even calmer when Simone’s doctor came out to give her parents an update. He said she was being transported from the chamber to her room and they could all see her in a few minutes. He also said that she’d lost consciousness at the scene, but regained it fairly quickly. She did have carbon monoxide poisoning, but it appeared to be mild—the doctor had just been overly cautious by putting her in the hyperbaric chamber.
He also volunteered the fact that the little girl Simone had rescued was also being treated here, and she was in stable condition and expected to make a full recovery.
In short, Simone would be okay, she deserved a medal, and it made Amelia’s heart swell with pride and a surprising amount of lust. Of course, she tamped that last emotion down while she sat in the waiting room with Simone’s parents.
About fifteen minutes later, a nurse appeared and said Simone was ready for visitors. Amelia hung back for a moment, figuring that Simone’s parents would want to see her first, but Celine looped her arm in Amelia’s and brought her along.
“Anyone who comes to the hospital at the crack of dawn to visit our daughter is family in my eyes,” she said. “I won’t make you wait out there when I’m sure Simone is dying to see you.”
“I’m dying to see her,” Amelia confessed.
Simone looked tired and weak, with dark circles under her eyes and an oxygen mask obscuring the lower part of her face. But her eyes contained the same bright, cheerful light they always did. Both of her parents hugged her at the same time, and with her head propped between their shoulders, Simone smiled at Amelia standing near the door.
“Hey, you.”
“Hi,” Amelia said, waving shyly.
“Come in.”
Amelia did. Victor and Celine made room for her at the hospital bed, and Simone grabbed Amelia’s hand, pulling her into her arms. “I’m glad you came.”
“I was really worried about you,” Amelia told her.
“I’m fine, I promise,” Simone answered. “I’m sorry I scared all of you.”
But she wasn’t quite as well as she tried to make everyone think. Saying those few words stole the oxygen from her lungs and sent her into a coughing fit. Soon after, the doctor came in and explained what Simone would need to do once she got released to continue to heal.
It mostly amounted to lots of rest and some antibiotics to prevent infection. The meds wouldn’t be a problem, but Amelia couldn’t see Simone actually resting like the doctor asked her to. It just didn’t seem to be in her nature.
Her parents were under the same impression, because Celine lectured Simone for at least ten minutes after the doctor left. “We can stay as long as you need us,” she said. “We’ll take time off work.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Simone objected, her voice froggy. She shot a look to Amelia when they weren’t looking, a faint panic in her eyes at the thought of her parents sticking around ‘as long as she needed them.’
Amelia smiled. Now that her parents were gone, she’d have done anything for just another day with them. But when she was Simone’s age, when it seemed like they would live forever, she would have hated the prospect of her parents practically moving in with her and babying her through an injury.
“I’ll be here,” she suggested. “You don’t have to worry about Simone, Mrs. and Mrs. Olivier.”
“I’m her mother, I’m not sure I can help it,” Celine said.
“Are you sure?” Victor asked. “I thought you said you were a doctor… don’t you have patients to see?”
“All my patients are dead, so my schedule’s flexible,” Amelia said, and Celine’s mouth dropped open.
“No offense, dear, but are you a good doctor?”
Simone started cackling despite her burned lungs. “Mom, she’s a medical examiner—like a coroner.” Tears sprang to her eyes and she wiped them away, looking to Amelia. “Thank you for that. It’s been a rough night and I needed a laugh.”
Simone ended up getting released around noon. It took forever to get all the paperwork completed and the prescriptions sent to her pharmacy. Amelia volunteered to go out and get lunch for everyone while Simone’s parents picked up her meds and drove her home. Then Amelia met them all at Simone’s apartment.
It was like night and day compared to Amelia’s house—it was in a towering building with many rental units in the heart of downtown. Amelia took the elevator upstairs and found Simone already settling in on the couch, her mother arranging pillows around her. Simone’s eyes were half-lidded, and it looked like the trip from the hospital had taken it out of her.
“Tired?” Amelia asked.
Simone nodded. “I just need to catch my breath—I’ll be okay in a minute.”
“You’ll take it easy,” Celine warned, handing her a bottle of Gatorade they must have picked up at the pharmacy. “Replace your fluids.”
Amelia set the takeout bag on the dining table near the door. She’d gotten sub sandwiches and chips for everyone, and she set them all out, then looked around. From the couch, Simone asked, “What do you think? Nothing like your place, is it?”
Simone’s apartment was cozy, with hundreds of books and DVDs crammed into the small space. There were lots of throw pillows and her mother had completely cocooned Simone in them, and Amelia noticed pillar candles stacked everywhere.
“It seems very comfortable,” Amelia said. “I’m surprised at the number of candles, though, Miss Firefighter.”
“You will notice that none of the wicks are burned,” Simone said, and indeed, they weren’t.
Amelia laughed. “Why do you have them if you don’t light them?”
“Some are LED,” Simone said, reaching for the one closest to her and flipping a switch at its base. It started to glow and flicker realistically, and she set it back down on the coffee table. “Others I bought because I liked the scent, or just because they make the room feel warm.”
“That they do,” Amelia agreed, picking up a soft blue one that smelled like crisp linen.
Simone helped herself to her first antibiotic dose, and Celine reminded her that she should eat with her medicine. Amelia passed around the sandwiches, and they all ate and watched reruns of The Andy Griffith Show, apparently Victor’s favorite show.
Simone fell asleep on the couch
for a while, and Amelia alternated between chatting with Celine and Victor and doing what work she could from her phone. After three weeks, they’d finally processed all the bodies and gotten rid of all three refrigerated trucks in the ME office parking lot. There were only a couple of John and Jane Does left in the morgue, but there was still enough paperwork to keep Amelia busy for weeks.
It was getting late when Simone finally woke up again, looking significantly more alert. “What time is it?”
“Five,” Victor said. “Are you hungry again?”
“No, I’m fine,” Simone said. “It’s getting late, though. You two should get on the road if you’re going to work tomorrow. I appreciate you coming to take care of me, but I’ll be okay.”
“You were just in the hospital,” Celine argued. “You need someone here with you.”
“I’m here,” Amelia reminded them. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I don’t want you two on the road in the middle of the night,” Simone said. “I promise I can take care of myself, and Amelia’s a doctor. No offense, but she’s far more qualified than you two.”
Celine wasn’t too happy about leaving, but in the end, Victor pointed out that he was supposed to lead a meeting on Monday morning at work. It took another hour to get them out the door, and by six-fifteen, Simone and Amelia were alone.
Simone let out a long breath and opened her arms for Amelia to curl up next to her. “Come here. I don’t know what’s more exhausting—carbon monoxide poisoning or having my mom fuss over me all day.”
“Your parents were sweet,” Amelia said.
“They are,” Simone agreed. “And I appreciate them. But I also appreciate when they leave.”
“Yeah, I understand that,” Amelia said with a chuckle. She snuggled against Simone, asked her if there was anything she needed, then said, “Oh, I almost forgot—when you were asleep, I got an email from Tom Logan. He got back from Granville and Cal Thomas’s paternity test results were waiting for him.”
“What’s the verdict?”
“Cal Thomas, you are the father,” Amelia said.
“Does he know yet?” Simone asked. “Oh wow, and do his wife and kid know?”
“I’m not sure,” Amelia answered. “The email was pretty brief.”
“Well, I’m sure you can squeeze some more info out of Tom in the morning,” Simone said. “Want to snuggle and watch a movie with me?”
“That sounds perfect,” Amelia said. “What should we watch?”
Simone gestured to her massive DVD collection. “I have pretty much everything. Take your pick.”
Amelia got up and perused the shelves while Simone turned on a few more LED candles for mood lighting.
“I’ve never actually seen But I’m a Cheerleader,” she said as she popped it into the player. “I hear it’s good.”
“How did you miss it?” Simone asked skeptically. “It’s a gay classic.”
“I know… I was in med school when it came out and I barely had time to shower back then, let alone watch movies,” Amelia explained.
Simone laughed. “Well, we’re going to change that now. Put it in the DVD player.”
She reached for the remote and Amelia loaded the disc. She sat on the couch and Simone wrapped her arm around her. With all those candles flickering and Simone’s body nestled against her own, Amelia was tempted to say to hell with the movie. She wanted to pounce on Simone and show her just how much she’d worried about her this morning.
But Simone’s lungs were damaged, and she needed to take it easy. So Amelia opted for a long, indulgent kiss instead, then settled in and Simone pressed ‘play.’ As the opening credits rolled, Amelia said, “I’m glad we’re changing things. I’m glad you made me find time for love.”
“Love?”
Amelia’s cheeks flushed. “Yeah. And I’m extra glad that you’re okay.”
Simone hooked her finger under Amelia’s chin and tilted her face up to look into her eyes. “I don’t want you to worry about me. I won’t leave you.”
20
Cal
Cal hadn’t lived aboveground in a month and Elizabeth’s sister’s house was officially feeling too crowded.
While they waited for their insurance claim to be processed and the reconstruction to begin, Cal and his wife were sleeping in his sister-in-law Trudy’s musty basement on a pull-out sofa. Noah had escaped that fate by virtue of his leg injury. He couldn’t manage the stairs while he recuperated, so he was staying in the spare bedroom upstairs—though he seemed to have no problem staying out all night with his friends and he’d been keeping up with them just fine, bum leg and all.
So, when he came into the police station on Monday morning to talk to the detective about that dead girl in his stairwell, he was sleep deprived, cranky, and impatient. When they left him alone in what could only be described as an interrogation room for twenty minutes, he got downright angry.
He was tapping his foot and drumming his fingers on the steel table that was the only furniture in the room when the door finally opened and Detective Logan appeared with two cups of coffee and a folder tucked under one elbow.
“Morning, Cal,” he said, smiling like he hadn’t just given him the run-around. “Thanks for coming in on short notice.”
Logan had called last night and asked to meet with him. Cal had no idea what it was about—other than, obviously, the girl he was investigating. Elizabeth had asked Cal at least two dozen times between last night and this morning, “What do you think he wants to talk to you about?”
Just before Cal left the house, he’d snapped, “I told you the first time you asked, I don’t know. The answer hasn’t changed, damn it.”
He felt bad about being cross with her. They were all under stress, living in that little house with her sister. But Elizabeth’s nagging had cranked up to level ten ever since the tornado and Cal wasn’t sure how much more of it he could take. Hell, a little part of him hoped he was in trouble because a night or two in the county jail would probably give him better sleep than he was getting at Trudy’s place.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Logan said as he set one of the coffees down on the table in front of Cal. “Not the greatest cup of joe in the city, but it does the job. You need cream or sugar?”
And risk making this take even longer? “No thanks.”
Cal picked up his coffee, and Logan sat down across from him. He took his sweet time, getting comfortable and sipping his coffee. And at last, he said, “Mr. Thomas, are you aware that Megan Hunter was your daughter?”
Cal nearly knocked over his coffee cup. “The dead girl?”
Logan nodded. Then he just sat there, watching Cal’s reaction and waiting for him to speak.
“No, she can’t be,” he said. “Why do you think that?”
“Why do you think she can’t be?” Logan countered. “She was nineteen. Your boy is sixteen, right? And you and Elizabeth got married two years before Noah was born. So what were you doing a year before you married Elizabeth?”
“That doesn’t matter,” he said. “Noah’s my only child, and you can ask Elizabeth how hard it was to conceive him. He’s our miracle baby.”
“Well, the DNA results say otherwise,” Logan said, opening the folder and setting a sheet of paper on the table in front of Cal. “This is a paternity test. You ever see one of these before?”
Cal shook his head, and Logan explained what he was looking at—the DNA bands that showed a strong genetic link between Megan Hunter and himself.
“I didn’t give you permission to test me,” Cal pointed out. “Where did you get my DNA?”
“We have our methods,” Logan said. “Did you know that as soon as you discard something in a public trash receptacle, such as a coffee cup, anyone can claim it?”
Cal looked suspiciously at the coffee cup in front of him now. Clearly they already had what they needed from him, but he pushed it away in any case. He didn’t want anything from this deceptive bastard.
&nbs
p; “So you’re telling me you didn’t know Megan Hunter was your daughter,” Logan continued. “And you never spoke to her? Never told her where you live?”
“No, I didn’t know about her,” Cal said. His head was spinning, and all he could think about was how passive-aggressive Elizabeth was going to get when she found out he had a kid with another woman. She wouldn’t care that he didn’t know about it, or that it had apparently happened before he met her.
“I believe you,” Logan said, and Cal felt a morsel of relief. Then Logan pulled another paper out of his folder. This one was thicker and glossy, a photo that looked like it had been printed off someone’s social media account. He set it down in front of Cal. “Do you recognize this woman?”
She was middle-aged, with blue eyes and ashy blonde hair, and a few streaks of gray running through it. Cal shrugged, thinking she looked like any other forty-something white woman he knew. “Not particularly.”
“What about her name? Nancy Hunter, maiden name Nancy Bridges. That ring any bells?”
Cal shook his head. “Nope. Except I’m assuming she’s related to the girl in my basement, given the name.”
“That’s right, she’s Megan’s mom,” Logan said. “And she remembers you.”
Cal just stared at him, waiting for the punchline. Clearly, Detective Logan was waiting for a bigger reaction, some kind of tell, but Cal really didn’t have any memory of this woman. “Yeah?”
“I went down to Granville to talk to the Hunters on Saturday,” Logan said. “You ever been to Granville?”
“Passed through a few times,” Cal said. “So?”
“Do you remember going down there to party when you were younger?” Logan asked. “About twenty years ago?”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what Logan was driving at. Cal said, “Sure, I probably went down there to party once or twice. Obviously I must have slept with this chick or else we wouldn’t be sitting here having this conversation, but I don’t remember it. I was twenty. I slept with a lot of chicks.”