Never Say Never

by Taylor Holloway

  20

  Eva

  “Do you want some water? I could probably rustle up some coffee if you prefer.” Officer Henkel said cautiously, settling the grey fleece police blanket around my shoulders. She was looking at me with the obvious relief that she’d been tasked to interview me and not poor Isaac. He’d thrown up now so many times that there was nothing solid left to come up. That didn’t stop him from dry heaving constantly and pushing out whatever water and stomach acid were still in him. The police guy interviewing Isaac a few yards away would need to hose his shoes off later.

  “No thanks. I’m ok,” I managed to say. I hadn’t said a word in an hour or so, just stared blankly ahead and watched the circus unfolding in front of the mansion. It was an achievement that I was able to go and stand or sit obediently where I was told. My voice sounded small and lost in my ears. “I’m not sure it would be a good idea to drink anything right now, anyway.”

  “I understand,” Henkel said with a shake of her head. She was a tall, statuesque woman in her early forties with skin like bitter chocolate and big, strikingly hazel eyes. She exuded strength and calm, and being a military brat, the uniform definitely helped to comfort me. Comfort was exactly what I needed, and I tried to soak in her strength along with the warmth from the blanket. All the while, Henkel was continuing to talk to me in a soft, gentle voice. “You’re probably feeling really strange right now. You should know that what you’re feeling—whatever you’re feeling—it’s all totally normal. There’s no right or wrong way to respond to seeing something like this.”

  I smiled a small, wary smile at her and wrapped the blanket tighter around my chilly body. She was probably only saying what she’d been trained to say to traumatized people. I had no doubt that she’d been exhaustively coached on how to handle situations with high emotion, but it was still nice to hear that I was normal, even if it was a platitude. Her wide eyes looked at me with the type of compassion that can’t ever be entirely faked. I liked her instantly.

  “You want me to tell you what happened, right?” I asked, sitting up straight and trying for an air of competence and attention. I was a nurse after all. I’d seen death before, many times in fact. It’s just that usually those deaths were, um, much fresher.

  Henkel nodded and fished out a pen and paper. “If you’re up to it, yes. We try to conduct the interviews with witnesses as soon as we can. That way you don’t have time to forget any of the details and we can solve the crime better.”

  I swallowed hard and managed the world’s smallest smile. “I’m not sure I’ll ever forget this. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know though. Ask away.”

  “Just tell me what happened, exactly as you remember, with as much detail as you can.” Henkel opened the small notebook and poised the tip of her pen to take notes.

  “Ok. Well at about three p.m. this afternoon I’d just returned and was going up the steps when I heard Isaac screaming. He collapsed on the ground. I went over to see what was wrong and Isaac was lying there having a fit and swearing. At first, I thought Isaac was hurt. You know, like maybe he had a muscle cramp or something? Then I saw the, um, feet sticking out of the leaf pile he’d been bagging up.”

  I paused to let Henkel’s pen catch up to my story. When she finished scribbling, she nodded and said, “then what happened?”

  “Then I smelled the... I smelled him. I still had to make sure that he was, you know, real. You know, not a rotten scarecrow or something? So, while Isaac was still lying down resting, I used the rake to shift the leaves around and see more of the guy just to... anyway as soon as I uncovered the face I freaked out and called 911.” I glanced over at where the body had been found, now surrounded in yellow tape and being exhaustively photographed. The body was, blessedly, already gone. It had been loaded up in an ambulance that left with no lights flashing. Henkel’s voice pulled me back to the present.

  “You were the one to put in the call to the police?” she asked. I noticed that she seemed surprised, which was odd to me. Of course, I would call the police. Isaac and I found a dead body. Maybe she was surprised it was me and not Isaac who’d called?

  “Well yeah… Isaac was still, well…” We both looked over to see him bent double with his head between his knees. For a big, strong guy, he was really suffering with all this. I could hardly blame him. His interviewer had gotten wise and now stood behind him and slightly off to the side. Henkel smirked at the sight, but it didn’t last long.

  “The ID we found in the deceased man’s pants belongs to a man named Stephen Fuller. We don’t know for sure that it’s him yet because of the level of decomposition, but nine times out of ten the ID is right. Do you know him?”

  I blinked in surprise. “Actually yes. I know who the name belongs to at least. We never met because I’m his replacement. I was actually hired because he quit abruptly a few weeks ago. He was the lead RN for Mr. Durant before me.”

  “You’re a live-in nurse to the old Mr. Durant? The French one? The super-rich one?” Henkel looked as impressed as Madison Clark and Clara Ellis had at the country club a week ago. The expression held a bit more weight coming from her. She looked up at the giant house behind me and then back to me as if reminding herself where she was. She rolled her eyes, clearly thinking some silent, frustrated thought that she didn’t share.

  I answered her question. “Yes. I look after Mr. Durant as part of his medial team. And Stephen was my immediate predecessor.”

  “How long have you been in your position here?”

  “Only about three weeks. I just moved to town for this job.”

  “And you never met Stephen before you were hired on?”

  “No. I’d never met him. I’ve read his notes though.”

  “And you live here at the Durant estate? Did he live here, too?”

  “Yes. At least, I’m pretty sure he did. The lead nurse and the lead nurse assistant both live here so we’re always accessible if there’s a crisis. There’s a team of rotating night and weekend medical staff as well, and they commute from the city. We all report to Dr. Jean Mathieu. He’s Mr. Durant’s personal physician in Philly.”

  “Were you aware of the reason Stephen quit? Did anyone tell you why he left?”

  “No. I only heard he quit with a note and left in the middle of the night.” The fact that he was now laying covered by a sheet in the morgue made me wonder what exactly was in that note. Clearly, Henkel had the same question.

  “Do you know what the note said?”

  “No. Sorry. That was before I was here. I think he just had enough. Like he reached his breaking point or something. This can be a really challenging workplace sometimes.”

  Henkel looked at me sharply, as if checking to see if I had some sort of attitude or sarcasm in my answer. I was much too shaken for anything like that at the moment. The truth was all I had the energy for after seeing my predecessor’s decomposing body. Besides, the task of caring for someone with Alzheimer’s was legitimately very difficult. It wasn’t the job for everyone, or even every nurse. The idea of someone leaving in the middle of the night and resigning abruptly wasn’t at all impossible for me to imagine or understand. Henkel nodded after a moment. “That’s ok. Who would know that?” she asked.

  I thought for a moment. Plenty of people really. “Probably Rita McNamara. She’s the main housekeeper. Or Mrs. Deborah Breyer. Maybe some of the rest of the staff.”

  “Deborah Breyer?” Henkel said the name like it was the foulest obscenity she knew. Her eyes narrowed and glittered in the evening light. I wondered just what Mrs. Breyer had done to earn so much dislike from the seemingly nice Officer Henkel. I was just glad Henkel wasn’t looking at me like that. She was tall, and even without the gun or the taser, she was intimidating. She could probably punch someone my size into next week.

  “Yes. Mrs. Breyer is Alexander’s only living daughter. His sons, Richard and Alexander Junior could also know something about it. They live here. Mrs. Breyer doesn’t. But none of them
talk to us much, so I don’t really know.”

  Henkel listened to me listing off the members of the Durant family with visible distaste.

  “Us? Do you mean the nursing staff?” she repeated after a second.

  “The whole staff. The help. Any of us.” I shrugged.

  Henkel looked at me and shook her head in disbelief. I got the feeling she found the Durant family somewhat distasteful because they hired so much help. I understood where she was coming from to an extent. It definitely felt strange to be living in someone else’s house and caring for them. Being a nurse was somewhat different than being a maid or a gardener, and I was afforded a bit more respect from Richard, Alexander Jr., and Deborah, but not that much. They all mostly acted like I was invisible during their visits their father. It was really sort-of tragic. He was always so excited when they dropped by and was constantly asking about them or his grandchildren, although his enthusiasm was always wrapped in his typical foul mood. Thomas and I had invented all sorts of lies we told him about why they couldn’t visit more.

  “Eva?” Henkel asked, and I realized that I’d sort of zoned out.

  “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” I said, shaking my head to clear it. “I just sort of faded out for a moment. How embarrassing. What did you ask?”

  “It’s alright Eva,” she replied. Her expression conveyed compassion rather than irritation, but it cut through my haze that she was looking at me with the same look I sometimes gave Alexander. It was a mixture of understanding and pity. I didn’t want anyone to look at me like that. “I know you’re doing your best. You’re much more coherent than most people that find partially decomposed bodies. And this is really helpful information. Believe me. We’re almost done. I was just asking if you knew what exact date that Stephen was last seen.”

  “Oh. No. I’m sorry. That was well before I was hired. Maybe a few weeks?”

  “That’s fine. I’ll find out. Is there anything else you think I need to know right now? Anything I haven’t asked about that you think is important?”

  I blinked. I was surprised that she would ask me a question like that. In cop shows, the cops never seemed to care what the witnesses thought of anything. They definitely didn’t ask open ended questions. Then again, if cop shows had smell-o-vision that conveyed what death actually smelled like or were in any way accurate to what was probably a slow, boring process of investigation, no one would watch. I didn’t think this case would be solved in thirty minutes with a heart-warming lesson.

  When I thought about her question, the answer was clearly Edith. I should tell her about Edith. It could be connected. I was about to open my mouth and say something when squealing tires pulled my attention to the right. A cherry-red, sleek sportscar burst into view and came to a noisy, rapid halt in between two ambulances. Charlie. Charlie was finally here.

  “Fuck me,” Henkel said softly, shocking me with her sudden shift from kindness and understanding to visible, visceral anger. Her eyebrows knit together in obvious distaste. “What’s this douchebag doing here already? Does he have fucking ESP?”

  21

  Charlie

  Eva was very much alive, wrapped in a big, wooly grey blanket and looking forlorn when I arrived at the mansion. Within two-point-five seconds of me exiting the car, I crossed the hundred meters separating us. I’d never been as relieved in my entire life and wanted to sweep her into my arms and up off the ground in a frantic embrace like in the movies. Apparently, the only thing separating me from Usain Bolt level speed and silver screen level romantic gestures was some appropriate motivation.

  “Stop right there,” a cold, female voice ordered before I could get to Eva. “Don’t you touch her.” A hand pressed to my chest restrained me while simultaneously knocking the wind out of me and making me stumble backwards a few steps. My eyes snapped to my left and met a pair of all-to-familiar hazel ones. It was one of my very least-favorite members of the Philadelphia PD, the inestimable, ruthlessly principled Sheila Henkel. I groaned internally. She looked no happier to see me than I was to see her. Our past interactions had been universally unpleasant.

  By some miracle, I didn’t say something to Officer Henkel that would get me arrested in that moment. Instead, it was Eva who spoke.

  “It’s alright Officer, I know Charlie,” she said, reaching out to grab my hand and make it obvious that we were together. “He’s just worried about me.”

  Henkel did a double take on Eva and blinked at the sight of our joined hands.

  “You don’t have to lie to protect them, Eva,” Henkel said firmly. “I’m sure you’re scared, but we can protect you from the Durant’s.”

  Eva looked confused. “Lie about what?”

  “Believe it or not, Officer, she’s actually my girlfriend,” I said. Officer Henkel looked unconvinced and I sighed and rolled my eyes at her disrespectfully. Whatever. She can’t arrest me for being honest. Being in love isn’t illegal. I may not deserve Eva, but she was mine.

  “Eva,” Henkel said seriously, “I’m done now with your interview. Thank you for calling this in. If you ever want to talk more, you can call me day or night.” She handed Eva her card and then looked at me as if daring me to take it from her.

  “Thank you, Officer,” Eva said sweetly. “I hope you find out what happened to Stephen.”

  “We will,” she replied, looking straight at me with satisfaction. “Bodies always talk if you know how to listen.”

  She walked off to converse with her partner Morrison, no doubt to complain about me. At last I was alone with Eva, even if ‘alone’ in this context still consisted of being surrounded by various forms of law enforcement. For the moment, I didn’t care. I wrapped my arms around Eva instantly, breathing in the sweet, strawberry scent of her shampoo and thinking that it was the greatest smell in the history of the universe. Eva was ok. There wasn’t a scratch on her.

  “Richard told me there was a dead nurse,” I whispered into Eva’s hair. “I thought he meant you.”

  She pulled back to run her hand along my face and kiss away my lingering fear.

  “Oh Charlie,” she said. “No. How awful. I’m safe. It was Stephen, the guy who was here before me. Isaac found him buried in a frozen leaf pile.”

  “You called the police?” I asked, thinking that I’d have to find a way to spin this to Richard. He hated when police were involved in anything, unless they were on his payroll. Shiela Henkel and Victor Morrison were decidedly not.

  Eva nodded. Seeing my frown, she looked up at me in obvious confusion.

  “Why does everyone seem so shocked that I would call 911. There was a dead guy in a leaf pile. What was I supposed to do?”

  I brushed a few loose strands of her shiny brown hair behind her ear affectionately. Even when she was cold, unhappy, and suspicious, Eva was stunning. I wished at that moment we could just get in my car and drive away forever.

  “You’re supposed to call me,” I told her with a sad smile. “I’m the crisis manager, remember?”

  Her eyebrows knit together. “But you couldn’t help with this! What if he was murdered? Or what if he wasn’t even all the way dead? Sometimes people can recover from hypothermia like you wouldn’t even believe. I had to call 911. You wouldn’t have been able to help.”

  I stifled a sigh. This wasn’t an argument worth having with Eva. I’d never be able to convince her why the Durant family prized their privacy above anything else, or why staff policy was to call me and never ever call the cops. If past was prologue, she’d see why soon enough. I kissed her instead and she buried her hands in my hair and held onto me for a long moment.

  “It’s fine,” I told her reassuringly when we came up for air and I was nose to nose with her. “You definitely didn’t do anything wrong.” Richard wouldn’t see it that way, but I’d figure it out.

  “Why doesn’t Officer Henkel like you?” Eva asked next. I cringed.

  “We just don’t see eye to eye on some things.”

  My evasive answer clearly d
idn’t satisfy Eva.

  “Did you two used to date or something? She’s very, very pretty. You can tell me if that’s it. I won’t be jealous.”

  I recoiled. “Ha. No. She’s just… our interests don’t align. She’s suspicious of the Durant family. She had a, um, run in once with Mrs. Breyer and ever since then she’s been convinced that the whole family is corrupt and think they’re above the law.”

  Her reply was slow and thoughtful.

  “Is she right?” Eva asked, looking down at the ground as if unwilling to meet my eyes. “This whole situation feels very strange. What if this is connected to Edith somehow.”

  “You didn’t tell her about Edith, did you?” I asked in a sharper voice than I intended. Eva looked up from the ground in surprise.

  “No. But I probably should have. Especially if that’s your reaction.”

  I shook my head. “Eva, I know this is uncomfortable for you. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you got dragged into the Edith thing. I’m really sorry you found a dead guy today, that’s just majorly fucked up. I’m sorry the police are here, they make everything more stressful when they act like I’m on the most wanted list for doing my job and trying to limit my client’s bad press. But don’t lose faith in me. I’m not trying to sweep this under the rug. It’s in everyone’s best interests, even the Durant’s, to figure out what happened to this man.”

  “Under the leaves you mean? We found him swept under the leaves, not under the rug,” Eva corrected. She giggled a small, somewhat hysterical giggle. I was afraid she was reaching the end of her ability to process new information. I needed to get her inside before the reporters showed up.