by Eileen Brady
“No problem. Eight, it is.” Jeremy opened his car door, leaned in and started the motor. He pulled up the collar on his coat. “I’m not used to this cold. In Africa I’d be wearing shorts.”
“So, no camping in the snow for you, like we did that one time?” I teased.
“Not yet. Ask me in a few days.” He came over and took my hand. “Listen, I know this is awkward, but nothing’s going to happen unless you want it to. No pressure. What was that goofy thing we used to say? I pinky-swear.”
Relief swept over me, and I remembered why Jeremy and I had become friends during those stressful college years. He really was a nice guy. I gave him a kiss on the cheek. Was he as wary as I was of repeating old mistakes and jumping into an intimacy we’d both regret? Or were we adult enough now to forge a new and better relationship?
Odd as it might seem, that dumb phrase from our past offered a degree of comfort.
“Okay. I pinky-swear, too.”
Chapter Nineteen
Sure enough, at eight the next morning Jeremy popped up, two huge takeout cups of coffee in his hands.
“I hope I got this right. You used to like cappuccinos with a little cocoa on the top.” He handed me the cardboard cup marked with a “K.”
Astonished he’d remembered, I mumbled a “thank you,” then asked him to follow me to the treatment room. Mari was waiting, laptop at hand. Her eyebrows went up when she saw us both drinking Starbucks.
“Anything I should know?” Her curious gaze shifted back and forth between us.
“No.” I tried to give her a look that meant pure business. It didn’t succeed.
“Jeremy, I understand you’ll be riding with us.” Mari’s voice came out as sweet as maple syrup.
“If it’s okay with you. I don’t want to be in the way.” He focused in on her, checking her reaction.
“I think it will be great.” Finished with the morning update, my assistant closed down the computer and fluffed up her hair.
Before the lovefest could get out of hand, I intervened. “So, what’s our first appointment?”
Mari reluctantly tore herself away from Jeremy. “Recheck on our pregnant piggy bride.”
A quizzical look appeared on his face. “Piggy bride?”
I handed him a white coat.
“Welcome to my world.”
***
Although our portable ultrasound machine took up a chunk of space in the backseat, Jeremy insisted on sitting in the truck’s second row behind Mari and me.
“Are you sure you don’t want to move up here next to Kate?” Mari turned almost one hundred and eighty degrees to ask Jeremy again.
“No, I’m fine. I know what it’s like to upset a routine. Believe me, this is luxury compared to what I’ve ridden in. Some of the roads I’ve driven have more potholes than pavement. One Land Rover we used had springs popping out through the upholstery.” Although sort of scrunched up, he did appear to be perfectly content.
I glanced again at his image reflected in the rearview mirror. “What exactly is your average day like?”
“Let me see.” He caught my eye and gave me a wink. “When I get up it’s hot and dusty. Most of the time I’m enveloped in clouds of mosquitoes despite the massive amounts of bug spray I put on. The food is basic, always presented wrapped in plastic wrap to verify it was prepared in a sanitary manner. My work entails standing in a hole deeper than my head and trying to excavate artifacts that no one seems to care about—except other anthropologists.”
“Sounds like fun.” My assistant piped up from the passenger seat.
I couldn’t help but laugh at Mari’s comment. “You do have the thrill of discovery. I remember that from the digs we were on in college.”
“Yes. But the real leaps and bounds in the field are being made by DNA analysis. I’ve been thinking of going back to school, actually, to refocus in that direction.”
Mari swiveled around in her seat again. “Funny you should mention going back to school. I’ve been trying to decide whether or not to go for some technician certifications.”
At our turnoff I slowed down and the tires spun on road gravel. “Hold those thoughts everyone, we’re almost there. Time to count piglets.”
Pulling into the driveway of Nancy Wagner’s home, I noticed a rooster standing by the front door. That was par for the course for our animal-loving client who kept quite a menagerie of pets. As I parked, the rooster ducked into the house through a pet door.
“Remember, guys, we’re going to be on her web cam, so keep everything PG-rated and politically correct.” While I got my bag and started to hoist up the portable ultrasound machine, Mari explained to Jeremy that our potbellied pig bride’s owner ran a very popular website and blog. We cautioned him not to react if he noticed anything strange.
“What do you mean—strange?” He pulled his coat around him in the still chill air.
Handing Jeremy a piece of equipment to bring in I said, “Sorry, no hints.”
Almost as soon as we knocked, Nancy opened her door. She wore a very pretty Renaissance-style dress in a deep red color, with a faux-fur-trimmed velvet cloak fastened at the throat. On her shoulder perched a big green frog.
“Hi, everyone. Come in.”
“Nancy, I’d like to introduce a friend of mine who is riding along with us today. Dr. Jeremy Engels. He’s an anthropologist.”
“Very pleased to meet you.” In keeping with her medieval outfit, she curtsied to him. He responded with a polite bow.
“You look nice today,” I commented as we entered the house.
She looked down and blushed. “I’m in costume for a web interview I’m doing in about an hour. Do you think we’ll be finished by then?”
“Absolutely, unless the ultrasound machine starts acting up.” Mari squeezed past me.
“So where is our princess bride?”
“Oh. Penelope is in her bedroom. Second door on the right.”
Jeremy, who was directly behind, me whispered, “I thought Penelope was a pig?”
“And your point?”
“So what’s with the frog?”
“He’s probably a prince in disguise.”
When we rounded the curve in the hallway I spied my pregnant patient in her pink dog bed, lying on her side. I walked over, knelt, and scratched her big tummy. Mari got down on her hands and knees, and searched for a nearby wall outlet. As I squeezed some gel onto Penelope’s abdomen Nancy wondered aloud, “That doesn’t hurt, right?”
“Not a bit. If she’ll lie here nice and still, we’ll be done in a few minutes.”
Although it was getting crowded on the floor, Nancy got down and began to stroke her potbellied pig’s snout. Bored with everything, the frog jumped down her arm and hopped away.
“Okay, showtime.” I pointed to the lighted screen and began to move the probe across the taunt skin. “Mari, let’s count heads.”
“Why heads?” Jeremy asked.
“We count the heads because they’re dense and easy to identify. Are you ready?”
Mari enthusiastically said, “Sure am.”
Working slowly, and in a specific pattern, the ultrasound soon revealed six little piglets of good size, almost ready to be born.
Nancy immediately announced our findings to the world, her face directed toward the webcam above us. Quickly she added, “I’d like to thank Dr. Kate, her assistant, Mari, and Dr. Kate’s boyfriend, Dr. Jeremy, for all their help.”
“Dr. Kate’s boyfriend, Dr. Jeremy,” grinned straight into the camera and waved cheerfully to Nancy’s viewing audience.
I wondered how soon I’d see us all on Facebook.
Thankfully, I wouldn’t have to explain about the frog.
Chapter Twenty
I was surprised at how much fun it was to have Jeremy around during our ho
use calls. He’d jumped right in to help Mari load the equipment back into the truck, made us laugh with stories of the strange things that happen in the world of anthropology, and had insisted on buying everyone lunch. No doubt about it—he was a big hit.
The next day, knowing Jeremy would be working with us again, I spent a bit more time on my makeup and appearance. Chapstick took a backseat to a colored lip-gloss, and a vigorous brushing left my blond hair looking healthy and happy. My scrubs—well—not much you can do about your scrubs. As a veterinarian, I couldn’t risk pins or jewelry or stuff around my neck that might get caught in claws or fangs during an exam. Our profession has horror stories of teeth that slid under wedding rings, breaking colleague’s fingers—and much, much, worse. The best I could do was start the day clean and relatively free of fur.
Much to my surprise, when I walked into the treatment room, I found the staff clustered around Jeremy, who was ready to go in a borrowed white coat, that offset his tan perfectly. He must have said something funny because a group laugh erupted before I could get near enough to hear.
“Did I miss something?” I lifted my coffee mug in greeting to my anthropologist buddy.
“Jeremy was telling us about the time a giant dung beetle crawled up his leg.” Cindy took a picture of him, looked up from her phone, and smiled. Every moment of her life ended up on social media. I felt torn about it—I enjoyed the posts but I still wanted my private life to stay private.
Most of our morning was taken up with recheck appointments and emergencies. Cindy had also booked two last-minute house call appointments for later in the afternoon, so I expected to be busy all day. After watching me catheterize a dog with bladder stones and remove a bleeding skin tumor, Jeremy took me aside.
“I don’t know how you do it, Kate. I’m exhausted and I’m not even working.”
“I’m not sure myself. Some days are worse than others.”
He kissed me on the top of my head. “Part of me is still on African time. I’m going to go back to my place and take a nap. Don’t work too hard.”
***
Two hours quickly passed and after a particularly complicated recheck on a dog with a broken tail, I was ready for an overdue lunch break. Unfortunately, Mari caught me before I could escape.
“Just a quick question on medication we dispensed in exam room two. The cat is doing much better. I pulled it up on the computer for you.”
I rubbed my face. “Tell Cindy I need a fifteen-minute breather after this one.” My eyes burned from the fluorescent lights and the waves of hot air that periodically kicked out of the old wall registers. Ignoring a grumbling stomach, I pushed open the exam room door. “Sorry to keep you waiting…”
Luke stood in the middle of the room. I didn’t see a cat or cat carrier anywhere.
“Hello, Kate. You look tired.”
He didn’t, but I didn’t want to tell him that. “It’s been a long day already. What’s up?” Luke had brought in his grandmother’s elderly cat to see me a few days ago. After successful dental surgery, the kitty had gone home. “Is Gatto alright?”
“Don’t worry. He’s fine. Mama G wanted to make sure she was giving him the right amount of medication.” Dutifully he pulled out a bottle of pink liquid amoxicillin. “Does she fill it to the top of the line or the bottom of the line?”
This seemed like a question Mari could have answered, but I went along with it anyway. “Fill it on the line, as close as you can get it.”
“That’s what I told her, but you know how she is.” Luke tapped his fingers on the stainless-steel exam table.
I glanced up at the clock over the door. Afternoon appointments would begin in less than an hour.
He shifted his feet. “Did Cindy get a chance to talk to you earlier?”
“Nope. I was off to a flying start as soon as we opened, thanks to a torn toenail that needed to be cauterized.”
“I’ve got an update on the murder for you. At the time of the attack, Flynn was wearing a gold chain with a medallion around his neck, plus an expensive watch he inherited from his father. Both have been recovered with the body.”
“So robbery wasn’t a motive.”
“Doesn’t look that way. The lab is also working on the contents of his wallet and a wad of papers found in his pockets. Most of it is in pretty rough condition.”
I could only imagine after ten years in the ground. “You know I never asked, but how severe was the blunt-force trauma?”
“There was a skull fracture here, and right here,” he demonstrated, pointing to the back of his head and his temple. “But forensics thinks the cause of death was probably a severed spinal cord due to fractured vertebrae above C-five.”
Injuries above the fifth cervical vertebrae could shut down the nerves that control breathing. To inflict that kind of trauma didn’t require great strength, only the wrong angle of impact. Death would be quick.
I read the distress on his face and impulsively reached over to him. “I’m sorry. I forgot how personal all this is for you.”
“Thanks.” His warm hand briefly clasped mine. “I wanted to tell you in person.”
“Do you think this points to someone local or not?”
“No one wants to commit to that theory. There are more questions than answers at this point, I’m afraid.”
“That’s how the family and his friends feel, too.”
Luke shrugged his shoulders.
I decided to change the subject. “Speaking of friends. You graduated with Flynn. Isn’t your class having their tenth reunion soon?”
He looked a bit surprised. “Yes. Dina is on the decorating committee. That’s all she talks about lately. She still has her prom dress from that night.”
I noticed a slight blush rise on Luke’s face. He and Dina had been high school sweethearts. Maybe something other than dancing took place that night.
“It might be helpful to talk to your classmates.”
“I really don’t think that would do much good.” He made motions to leave. “I wouldn’t be going to the darned thing if Dina wasn’t forcing me.”
He took off in such a hurry he forgot to say good-bye. I wondered what it was about the 2007 class reunion coming up that made him so embarrassed and determined to keep me away from it.
***
At around four-thirty in the afternoon Jeremy popped up again, his energy now high from an afternoon nap while mine was going down the tubes. The entire staff had heard the update on Flynn through Cindy’s connection to Police Chief Garcia, so spirits were a little low and rumors were flying. This time when he came in, Jeremy didn’t get any big greeting.
“What’s going on? Did I do something wrong?” he asked when we sat down in my office after the last appointment had left.
I desperately wanted to pull off my shoes and put my feet up, but that would have to wait.
“It’s got nothing to do with you.” My eyes still itched and my head had begun to pound. “Remember I told you about the human remains found a few weeks ago?”
“Right. Is that what this is about?”
“Yes. The victim was a young man named Flynn Keegan. He graduated high school with Luke, the police officer you met the other night.”
He straightened up in his chair. “Luke?”
“Mmmmm.” The ache in my head had escalated to a dull roar. After rummaging around in my desk I found some ibuprofen and proceeded to scarf it down.
“He came by and told us it definitely wasn’t a robbery gone wrong. I’m not sure what that means as far as suspects are concerned.” I closed my eyes and gently began to massage my temples.
“Migraine? Like you got in school?”
“Mnnnnnn.”
Jeremy stood up. “Come on, Kate. We need to get you to lie down someplace quiet.” He took my hand and led me into my apartment. Buddy came runnin
g up, circling and jumping for joy. “You lie here on the bed and I’ll take care of everything else. Okay?”
He didn’t have to convince me. As soon as I put my head on the pillow and closed my eyes, I drifted off to sleep. All I remembered were the lights dimming and a blanket softly covering me.
***
The delicious smell of Chinese food penetrated my sleep and woke me up—that and a few sloppy licks on my fingertips.
I saw Jeremy bustling around in my kitchen, trying not to make too much noise. Buddy, on the other hand, thought it might be a good time for me to play.
“That smells good.” With an effort I sat up.
“How are you feeling?” He was busy taking bowls and plates down from the cabinet next to the stove.
“Much better, thanks. Headache’s gone.” No light penetrated my curtains. I wondered how long I’d been asleep. With a big stretch, I stood up. Buddy ran back and forth between Jeremy and me. A plaid dishtowel lay draped over my guest’s left shoulder. He looked right at home.
“Go ahead and sit down. I didn’t remember what you liked, so I ordered a bunch of things—and of course, wonton soup.”
We shared a look. I’d been addicted to wonton soup in college.
He handed me a napkin and a steaming bowl of soup. Suddenly, I felt starved.
“You can’t go wrong with soup, I always say.” Chinese takeout seemed an integral part of my love life.
“Go ahead and start without me.” He had taken the time to pour all the takeout food out of their plastic containers and into bowls. In the middle of the table sat a vase with a single red rose. Everything looked much more civilized than when Luke and I shared dinner.
“This is lovely. Thank you, Jeremy.” I took the seat opposite him and picked up my spoon. The hot soup tasted like heaven. When I spied mu shu chicken with pancakes on one of the plates, I couldn’t believe my luck. “You hit a home run. All my favorites.”
“I cheated a little. The Lucky Garden said you were one of their most frequent customers and fixed me right up.” He scooped some shrimp in lobster sauce on his plate next to a pile of fried rice.