Kenzie looked at Zachary again. “I don’t know a lot of the details of the case. You’d have to ask the private dick here.”
Zachary swallowed. She was definitely not happy with him.
Dr. Wiltshire considered. “Why don’t you come into my office,” he invited Zachary. “Kenzie, please open a file and bring me the initial intake form. How long ago did this happen? Do we know where the body is?”
“It was last Friday,” Zachary contributed. “The funeral home collected her body. I don’t think there’s been any service yet, but I don’t know whether she’s still… what state the body is in.”
“You know which funeral home?”
“No.”
“Find out from the hospital or care center,” Wiltshire told Kenzie, “and tell them to put a hold on the remains as a courtesy, until we contact them with further instructions.”
Zachary tried not to look at Kenzie as he got unsteadily to his feet to go with the coroner into his office.
Chapter Ten
D
r. Wiltshire looked back when he realized that Zachary wasn’t keeping up with him.
“Sorry,” Zachary apologized, growing even more conscious of his legs and how they were not moving properly. “I had a spinal cord injury and sometimes it takes a minute to remember how to walk…”
Dr. Wiltshire nodded and waited for him, then walked more slowly to his office to allow Zachary to get control of his gait, which still felt unnatural. They sat down, Dr. Wiltshire behind his desk and Zachary in one of the guest chairs before it. Dr. Wiltshire took off his glasses and laid them down on the desk.
“You’re the private investigator who challenged my findings on the Declan Bond case and proved that he was murdered.”
“Uh, yes.” Zachary nodded, hoping this wasn’t going to get him kicked right back out of the office without a further interview.
“How is his mother? My daughter-in-law loved The Happy Artist. Is she going to start the show again? Or have they canceled her contract?”
“Her return is going to air in a couple of weeks. It’s been a hard time for her, but I think she’s looking forward to getting back again.”
“Good.” Dr. Wiltshire smiled. “Her audience will be thrilled. She has quite the following in these parts.”
“She does,” Zachary agreed politely.
“And you were the one who was involved in that nasty business at Summit too, weren’t you?”
Zachary swallowed. He shifted in his seat and tried not to think about the nightmare that had turned out to be. Clarissa haunted his dreams regularly with her electric shock devices and her sadistic smile. At least the nightmares about Annie were fading.
“And now you’re looking into another death in my jurisdiction.”
Zachary felt like he should apologize, but he held his tongue. He wasn’t trying to discredit the coroner. It hadn’t even crossed Dr. Wiltshire’s desk. Zachary was just trying to find the truth. He was just doing his job.
“What have you discovered so far?” Dr. Wiltshire asked. “Start at the beginning.”
Zachary did his best to give a coherent narrative of all that he had discovered so far. Bridget’s impressions that Robin was not near death and had not given up the fight. The medical professionals’ concurrence, even though they didn’t think it meant anything. Robin’s symptoms before her death, the availability of insulin and her IV.
Dr. Wiltshire listened carefully, asking the occasional question. Zachary was aware that it didn’t add up to much. It was all circumstantial and there was no evidence that anything had been done to harm Robin. But there wouldn’t be any evidence unless an autopsy was conducted.
Dr. Wiltshire picked up his glasses from the desk. He cleaned the lenses, scratched his ear with one of the arms, and tapped them against his desk thoughtfully.
“This is unusual,” he said eventually. “I have to say, we don’t take on the case of every crackpot who walks in off the street or every family member who wants an investigation started. But you do have a track record. And there is enough to suggest that someone might have shortened Robin Slater’s life…”
“You’ll look into it, then?” Zachary asked, hardly daring to hope.
“I’m sticking my neck out here, so I hope you’re right and there is something to it. Not that we ever wish foul play on anyone. But we are in the business of uncovering the truth.”
There was a tap on the door and Kenzie entered. She didn’t look at Zachary, but approached and put a new folder down on Dr. Wiltshire’s desk, looking at him questioningly.
The coroner nodded his thanks and opened the folder up to fill out the first form. “You asked the funeral home to hold the remains?”
“Yes.”
“Has she been embalmed?”
“No. Not yet.”
“Well, that will help. This is going to take a little finessing, Kenzie. It’s going to take some work to smooth the feathers we ruffle by getting involved in a case this way. I’ll need to file a report with the police department to start a proper death investigation. The evidence has already been compromised.”
Kenzie nodded jerkily. Zachary wished he could just sink into the floor. She was going to be furious with him. He hadn’t intended to do an end-run around her, but now her boss had overridden her, and if Zachary knew Kenzie, she was truly pissed about that.
“Okay. Let’s get the remains scheduled for a post as early as we can. Some of the evidence will have already broken down.” He glanced over at Zachary. “Some substances break down after death. Insulin breaks down within forty-eight hours, for example, which is one of the reasons it is preferred by killers. It looks natural, it’s fast, and it’s almost impossible to detect.”
“If it was insulin… is there any way you’ll be able to tell?”
Dr. Wiltshire sighed and rocked his chair back. It let out a long squeal. “By starting a death investigation, there will be police involvement. They can get copies of the patient’s records and inventory to cross-check them, get surveillance videos, shift schedules, that kind of thing. They’ll do interviews and maybe someone will confess.”
Kenzie shook her head. Zachary knew she was holding back. She wanted so badly to blast him and tell him how bad they were all going to look when there was no evidence of anything but a natural death. That turned his thoughts in the opposite direction.
“If there wasn’t foul play and it was the cancer, will you be able to tell that?”
“Possibly. We may get lucky and be able to see that a mass cut off blood flow to a major organ or shut down liver function. Though the staff probably would have seen signs of that.”
“But don’t hold my breath.”
“The result of my investigation will likely be that there is no evidence to indicate it was anything other than a natural death. I don’t want to mislead you. The chances we will find anything are very slim.” Dr. Wiltshire smiled at Kenzie. “But I do like a challenge! And you and Mr. Goldman have a history of being able to untangle things.”
Kenzie opened her mouth to protest. Zachary looked at her. He hadn’t said anything about Kenzie helping him out with previous cases, so anything that Dr. Wiltshire had divined had either come from something Kenzie had said to him, or just from the fact that Zachary had gone to her for help.
“I’m reading between the lines,” Dr. Wiltshire said, “but I don’t think I’m wrong, am I?”
Kenzie shifted her stance, looking uncomfortable. “It’s mostly Zachary,” she said. “He’s like a bulldog with a steak. I help him a little with forensic knowledge, but… he’s the brains behind it.”
Zachary was stunned. He had grown up with everyone telling him how stupid he was, how easily distracted and impulsive, how he couldn’t ever just focus on one thing and get the job done. He had no schooling past twelfth grade except for what he had taught himself. He hadn’t even earned a diploma. Growing up in foster care had meant going straight into the workforce once he was eighteen.
“I’m…” He wasn’t sure what to say to this. “I’m stubborn, that’s all. I just… stick with it until it’s done.”
“There’s much to be said for being stubborn. And now… Kenzie and I have some fires to light and some to put out. You know how to get ahold of each other?” His grin widened.
“Uh, yes, sir,” Zachary agreed, getting to his feet. Though he still felt awkward, his legs had gained some strength, and he was able to walk back out of Wiltshire’s office without looking too much like a penguin on crack.
He had accomplished the impossible. A death investigation was going to be opened into Robin Salter’s death.
But what were they going to find?
Chapter Eleven
Z
achary’s heart was thumping as he approached the house. It wasn’t like there was a restraining order against him. Bridget had threatened to get one in the past, but Zachary had never been served with one and it wasn’t like she didn’t know where he lived. She was the one who had been coming to see him lately. She had been the one who needed him. He rolled the word around in his mind. It made him feel stronger, more virile. She needed him.
He rang the doorbell and in a few minutes, Bridget opened the ornate white front door. She raised her eyebrows, looking at him and then looking behind him as if he might have brought someone else with him. Who would he bring? Kenzie? The police? Lawrence Long?
“Hi.”
“What are you doing here?” She didn’t know how to react to his presence. She couldn’t be angry with him, even though she’d previously told him to stay away, because he was doing what she wanted him to do, and she didn’t want to alienate him. She didn’t know whether to be concerned about his health and well-being, her usual fall-back position. Or was he there for something else?
Zachary smiled, feeling warm. He had done it. She had needed his help, and he had succeeded. At least with the first step.
“I did it, Bridget. We did it.”
“Did what?”
“We got them to open up a death investigation into Robin Salter’s death. They looking into it.”
“Who is? What are they going to do?”
“A proper investigation. Doing an autopsy to determine cause of death. Interviewing witnesses. Reviewing the hospital records. The whole bit.”
She stared at him, stunned. “Are you kidding me?”
He shook his head. “No. They’re looking into it. The coroner’s office has opened their file and requested her remains from the funeral home. They’re starting on the arrangements right away.”
“I can’t believe it.”
Zachary wanted to step forward and take her in his arms. He wanted to assure her that it was true and comfort her in the loss of her friend. He wanted to be the one who was there for her again. A partner. Her other half.
He took a step toward her. Bridget took a step back, maintaining the distance between them. Zachary stopped.
“So this is real,” Bridget said.
Zachary nodded, though he was uncertain what she meant.
“This is really happening. I wasn’t just imagining things.”
“We don’t know yet whether there was any foul play, or whether she did just die,” Zachary clarified. “We have to wait and see.”
“But there was enough there for them to look into it. They believed that there might be something wrong.”
“Yes, you were right.”
Zachary reached a hand toward her to take her by the arm. She seemed a little unsteady on her feet, and he was suddenly worried about her. Maybe he shouldn’t just have shown up at her door and announced it without any lead-up. Maybe he should have told her to sit down first.
“Who is it?” a male voice boomed, and in a moment, Gordon stood behind Bridget.
Gordon Drake was not a bad guy, other than the fact that he had moved in on Zachary’s territory and was now living the life that should have been Zachary’s. For that, Zachary strongly resented him. He knew that it was just an emotional reaction, and not a fair one. Gordon hadn’t come into the picture until after Zachary was gone. He hadn’t been fooling around with Bridget while she and Zachary were still married. Zachary had checked into his background, and Gordon didn’t seem to have any major skeletons in the closet. As far as Zachary knew, he didn’t complain when Bridget called or dropped in on Zachary, even allowing their holiday plans the previous Christmas to be delayed while Bridget checked up on Zachary’s wellbeing. Gordon was, to all appearances, an all-around good guy. But that didn’t mean Zachary had to like him.
“Zach,” Gordon greeted cheerily. “What are you doing here? You’re looking good.” He looked at Bridget. “Anything I can help with, my dear?”
She gripped his arm, which irritated Zachary, as he had been about to take her arm and to steady her, but once again Gordon had stepped right in between them. Gordon looked down at Bridget with an expression of concern. “Are you alright?”
“She might want to sit down,” Zachary said. “I was just talking to her about Robin Salter. The developments in her case.”
Gordon raised his brows, bemused. “Robin Salter…?” He looked back at Bridget. “Isn’t she that woman you were in treatment with?”
Bridget nodded. Zachary was interested to note that Bridget had apparently not talked to Gordon about what had happened. It wasn’t immediately apparent whether Gordon even knew that Robin had died. Bridget had not told him anything, but she had gone to Zachary for help.
Score one for Zachary.
“Do you want to sit down?” Gordon asked Bridget. He indicated Zachary with his eyes, clearly not sure what to do about him.
“Yes… come in, Zachary, and tell me about it.”
Gordon made a grand gesture for Zachary to enter. For the first time, Zachary was allowed in through the front door. Any other time he had shown up at Bridget’s door, he’d been run off the property with threats of the police and getting restraining orders. But things were changing. He was once again part of Bridget’s circle.
It was a spacious house, lots of classically beautiful art pieces. Nothing abstract like Lawrence’s work. Not the kind of place that you had kids in, so Zachary could only guess that Bridget was sticking to her guns about not wanting to have a family. She had done as the doctors had said to and had her eggs frozen before radiation in case she ever changed her mind about that, but Zachary imagined that ten or twenty years down the line, the eggs would reach their expiration date and be quietly destroyed without anyone ever using them.
He would have loved to have had children with Bridget. He had imagined it from the first day they had met. But she had been adamant that she wanted a career before family. She didn’t want family almost as much as Zachary did.
Gordon and Bridget led the way to a cozy living room decorated almost entirely in white. They sat down together on a long white couch and Zachary chose one of the few pieces in the room that was a deep rich red instead of white. Even though he had put on clean clothes that morning, he would be humiliated if he’d left one smudge of dirt on one of the pristine white pieces of furniture.
“I asked Zachary if he would look into the circumstances of Robin’s death for me,” Bridget explained to Gordon. She was pale, but each cheek had a red flush in the middle. Or maybe it was her makeup, still tinting the skin that had gone as white as the room’s decor.
“Robin’s death?” Gordon echoed. “Bridget, what happened? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Bridget dabbed at dry eyes with a tissue. “It was… I don’t know. I didn’t want to tell you about it until I knew what had happened. I wanted to know first.”
“And… what did happen?”
Gordon looked at Bridget and Bridget looked at Zachary. Gordon turned his head to look at him as well.
“What did happen?” Gordon repeated.
“We’re still sorting it out,” Zachary explained. “They’ve now opened a death investigation, which means they’ll actually be collecting evidence and doing an a
utopsy. Trying to establish the cause of death instead of just relying on what the doctor attending her said.”
“But it was cancer, surely.”
Bridget shook her head.
“It still might have been,” Zachary cautioned, repeating what Dr. Wiltshire and Kenzie had tried to drill into him. “It may be that they do the autopsy and find that it was the cancer, it was just more advanced than the doctor thought. Or a blood clot caused by the cancer. Or some other complication. But they’re going to check.”
“What did you find out about Lawrence?” Bridget asked. “He didn’t do it. I know that. But what did you find out?”
Zachary leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I found out that Robin dumped Lawrence the Wednesday before she died.”
“What?”
“That was the secret. That’s what he was trying to hide. They didn’t have the perfect last date because she wanted to do those things before she died or wanted to give him the gift of a perfect day together to remember her by. She wanted to have one last date with him, and then she broke it off. Told him that she wanted him out of her life.”
Bridget opened and closed her mouth. “But that’s… cruel. They were always so good together. Why would she even break up with him?”
“I guess they weren’t as perfect as you thought.” Zachary thought back to their own relationship and how Bridget had jettisoned him once things got to be too difficult. “Maybe she needed space. Maybe he was just dead weight.”
Bridget’s forehead wrinkled. Zachary couldn’t tell whether she recognized herself in his words or not.
“So she broke up with her boyfriend,” Gordon summarized, eager to hear the rest of the story, “and then…?”
“That was Wednesday night. Thursday she was very tired from the long day and mostly slept. Lawrence did show up at some point, but he didn’t stay long. And the next morning, Friday, the nursing staff found her dead.”
Bridget and Gordon both stared at Zachary.
“You think he killed her?” Gordon asked. “You think he put something in her food, or smothered her with the pillow…?”
She was Dying Anyway Page 10