by Joyce Lavene
He whistled through teeth that made Tom Cruise’s look dingy. “That sounds wild. Need any help?”
“You’re my most experienced assistant,” she told him. “I can’t afford for both of us to be in jail.”
Sam couldn’t argue with that logic. He didn’t seem eager to try. They locked up the shop, and went for pizza before he drove her to meet Mai.
“Can I leave the heather in your truck?” Peggy asked him.
“Sure. Want me to take it to your house?”
She looked at the flowers, thinking about what they meant. “No, that’s okay.”
“So much for that way of meeting someone. Guess I won’t try it,” he quipped. “Call me when you’re done spying. I’d like to hear all about it.”
Mai was waiting nervously in the parking lot by her car. She crouched down when she saw the truck’s headlights. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this, Peggy.”
“How else will we know what really happened to Mark and who was responsible?”
“I don’t know. But I’m feeling kind of queasy. I might be coming down with something. I think I should go home.”
“You’ll be fine. Have some chewable zinc. This won’t take long. Where do we go from here?”
Mai drove them to the medical examiner’s office on College Street. She used her police pass to park in the lot next to the building. She turned off the car but didn’t move. “Are you sure we should do this?”
“I’ve only seen a few dead bodies in my life, sweetie,” Peggy told her. “I’m not anxious to see any more. But I know this might be the only way to prove what really happened. We can’t let the opportunity go by, can we?”
“No. I suppose not.” Mai straightened her spine, then got out of the car. “Let’s go.”
It wasn’t exactly stealthy. Mai had to show her ID and tell the security guard that Peggy was there to identify her dead uncle. Once they got past the front desk, they followed the spotless corridor to a set of double doors that opened into the morgue.
“Put these on.” Mai gave Peggy a mask and a pair of latex gloves. “You never know what could be up here. And for goodness sake, don’t touch anything.”
They walked into an area where the walls were lined with handles. They almost looked like recessed file cabinets. Then Mai picked a drawer with a case number on it. It slid open with a little squeak. The body was covered by a paper sheet. Peggy felt the blood drain from her face.
“Are you okay?” Mai asked her.
“I’m fine, thanks. I told you I haven’t seen many of these.”
“We’ll all be one someday.” Mai took out a syringe. “I just don’t want you to faint. I don’t want to do anything to draw attention to us. We’ve been lucky so far. Getting out could be more difficult.”
Peggy watched carefully as Mai filled three syringes with blood from Mark’s body. She didn’t think she’d be able to. Her plan had been to get Mai in there, then look away. But she found that she couldn’t. Mark looked far worse than when she found him in her shop. Deterioration was starting to set in. His gray skin looked like rubber. She couldn’t see his face and thought she should probably be glad.
“Almost through. I might need a tissue sample. This is definitely our last chance to get it.” Mai replaced the cap on the syringe and took out a plastic bottle. She unscrewed the lid and handed the bottle to Peggy. “Hold this.”
Peggy held it out for Mai’s sample. She noticed the other woman’s hands were shaking. “Are you all right?”
“Just nervous. I like my job. I plan to be chief medical officer someday. I don’t want to end up in that little office forever.”
“I can understand that. And just think of the top marks the medical examiner will give you when you prove my theory.”
Mai laughed. “Or when my landlord throws me out because I’ve lost my job. I don’t think the ME will be too pleased if I prove he was wrong. People are funny that way.”
“You must think there’s some merit in what I told you,” Peggy reasoned, “or you wouldn’t be here risking so much to help me.”
“You must be right.” She put the top back on the bottle. “Or I’m crazy. There we go. Now all we have to do is get out of here without getting caught.”
No sooner were the words out of her mouth than they heard voices coming toward them.
“Quick! Behind this door!” Mai closed the body drawer, then shoved Peggy and herself into the next room through a set of swinging metal doors.
Peggy put her hand out to stop the motion of the doors after they were out of the way. The two women stood quietly together in the dark room. The two men were still talking as they entered the room. One of the body drawers slid open and closed. The techs talked about the Panthers’ game and getting season tickets for the Bobcats, the new basketball team.
The drawer the techs opened didn’t squeak. Peggy hoped that meant it wasn’t the one Mark was in. There wasn’t time to put the paper sheet back across him. Maybe they wouldn’t notice.
“I forgot to fix the sheet,” Mai whispered, echoing her companion’s thoughts.
“Different drawer, I think.” Peggy glanced at her lighted watch. It was almost one A.M.
After a few minutes, they heard another drawer open and close again. The voices moved toward the door that led to the hallway, and the light clicked off.
Mai took a deep, shaky breath. “That was close.”
“Let’s take care of that sheet and get out of here.” Peggy pushed open the door.
It seemed so simple. They had what they needed. Even if someone noticed they signed in, no one would ever know what they were doing there. If Peggy’s theory was correct, even Jonas would have to admit they’d done a good thing. If not, no one would be the wiser. They didn’t talk about how Mai would present the evidence. There was no point in debating that until they knew if what they had made a difference.
She and Mai hurried down the corridor toward the front desk to sign out. They were only a few steps away from walking out of the building.
Paul pushed open the front door and walked in. “Mom?” He swiveled his gaze to the right. “Mai? What are you doing here?”
“We’re working, of course.” Mai’s gaze narrowed, and her pointed chin came up defiantly. “What are you doing here?”
“I came for some documents the captain wants. That’s not the point. What’s my mother doing here? Last time I checked, she didn’t work for the city or the county.”
Mai glanced at Peggy. “She’s helping me do some research.”
“With what? What are either one of you doing here at this time of the night?”
“I don’t think that concerns you, Officer Lee. Your mother and I had business here. Now we’re leaving. Good-bye.”
Paul put one hand on Mai’s shoulder as she started to move away. “Hold on a minute—”
“I’m a thirty-second-degree black belt,” she warned with a laser glance at his hand. “Don’t invade my personal space unless you want to lose a hand.”
Paul’s green gaze clashed with Mai’s infuriated brown eyes. “Yeah?”
“Is there a problem, Officer?” a short security guard with bulldog features asked him.
“No problem.” Paul took his hand away from Mai’s shoulder. He waited for the security guard to walk away, then turned back to the two women. “Unless you want me to mention this to Lieutenant Rimer, the two of you better wait outside for me. I’ll only be a minute.”
Mai ignored him and walked outside. Peggy smiled and followed her. Paul shook his head and went to the front desk.
“Do you think he means it?” Mai asked his mother when they were alone.
“I think we should tell him what we’re doing. The best way to keep someone quiet is to make them an accomplice.”
“You’re pretty sharp, Peggy. Paul can’t report us if he’s guilty, too.” Mai shivered. “But I think we should wait in the car. It’s freezing out here.”
When Paul came out, he told them his shift was
over. “Let’s not draw any more attention to this, whatever it is. I’ll meet you at your house, Mom.”
“I’ll put some coffee on,” Peggy agreed before he went back to his squad car.
Mai shifted the small freezer chest she was using to protect and transport the blood and tissue sample they collected. “I suppose he means me, too.”
“I’m sure he does. But don’t worry, we’ll talk to him, and everything will be fine.” Peggy looked at Mai as she started the car. “Do you really have a black belt?”
“No. But everyone thinks I do because I’m Asian. It comes in handy sometimes. Bruce Lee made all of us masters of the martial arts.”
Paul followed them back to Queens Road. With the cold and the light drizzle, the streets were nearly deserted. It was unusual for Peggy to be out in the city late at night. She admired the lights and the shimmering lines of glossy black pavement. Especially because it gave her something to think about instead of what they’d just done.
Mai slapped her hand on the steering wheel. “I can’t believe he’s escorting us to your house! What does he think we are? Incompetent teenagers?”
Peggy didn’t comment. There was enough friction between those two to light up a house. Someday they’d realize what it was all about. It would be nice to have grandchildren before she was too old to appreciate them. Or before she went to jail for all the laws she’d broken tonight.
She was pleased not to find anything damaged in her house. Shakespeare galloped to the door, letting out long, low woofs as he came. He wagged his tail so hard that it contorted his body left and right. Then he licked Mai and Peggy, grinning at them.
“It’s a good thing you have such a big place,” Mai remarked, her eyes following up the side of the blue spruce. “You couldn’t keep a dog this big in my apartment.”
Peggy put on the coffeepot. “Until I was coerced into it, I would’ve sworn this house wasn’t big enough for both of us. But I think it’s going to work out.”
Mai was asking about the history of the house when Paul came into the kitchen. She stopped speaking midsentence and sat down at the kitchen table.
“Okay.” Paul glared at them both. “Who’s going to tell me what’s going on?”
He was grim-faced through the entire explanation. He shook his head, rolled his eyes, and sat back in his chair, purposely not looking at his mother. “Besides the laws you’ve broken doing this, did it ever occur to you that whatever you find will be useless?”
Peggy stirred sugar into her coffee. “Why is that?”
“Because the district attorney will immediately have the evidence we found as well as anything that extends from its discovery declared not admissible.” Mai looked at Paul. “Does that about cover it?”
“You should’ve thought of that before you took a chance on your career,” he answered. “The best thing to do is get rid of whatever you took out of there. Forget about it. Chances are, no one will call you on it.”
“But if we discover there was alcohol in Mark’s body, that might be enough to reopen the investigation,” Peggy disagreed. “Even if the evidence isn’t admissible in court, it would at least lead the police to someone besides Mr. Cheever.”
“You’re not a lawyer, Mom. And the lieutenant is gonna be pissed when he finds out you were involved with this again. It’s against the law to impede an investigation.”
“But that’s the problem. There is no investigation.”
“Let’s say there is alcohol in Warner’s body. What does that prove?” Paul argued. “Alcohol didn’t kill him. A shovel did.”
“Yes, and alcohol doesn’t kill a drunk driver,” Peggy persisted, “the car does. But alcohol is a contributing factor. Someone may have given him a drink without his knowledge to make it easier to kill him.”
“That isn’t police thinking. You aren’t a police officer or a homicide detective.” He put down his coffee mug and got to his feet. “It’s late. I’m exhausted. Promise me you’ll throw this stuff away and not go any further with this.”
Peggy’s eyes were like shards of bright green glass. “I can’t do that, Paul. If there’s a chance I can help Mr. Cheever with this, I will. You could be more useful, since you think like a police officer.”
“I’m going home.” He glanced at Mai. “I’d like to talk to you outside for a minute.”
Mai stood up. “Sure. I’m on my way out anyway.”
Peggy waited until her son stepped outside, then faced Mai. “I won’t blame you if you don’t want to go any further with this. I probably had no right to ask you in the first place.”
“Whatever! Like I’m going to let him tell me what to do! He’s a badass rookie cop. I have three years of experience in forensics. I outrank him technically. Don’t worry about it. I have a day off and a friend at the state crime lab in Raleigh. I’ll run this up to him, and we’ll see what happens. It might not be anything.”
“I realize that.” Peggy hugged her. “Thanks for trying. And don’t let that blowhard intimidate you.”
Mai made a strange whooping sound in the back of her throat and assumed a martial arts stance. “I saw this on TV the other night. Impressive, huh?”
Peggy laughed and saw her to the door. She started clearing away the coffee cups when she noticed that Mai left her gloves behind. She hurried to the kitchen door and poked her head out into the frosty night to see if the other woman was gone.
Instead, she found Mai and Paul engaged in a passionate kiss against the brick wall. Mai’s boots were barely touching the frozen ground, and Paul’s face was hidden by her hair. Neither one of them noticed when Peggy opened and closed the door.
“That’s interesting,” she told Shakespeare. “I think we’ll leave them alone. It would be good for both of them to have something besides their work.”
Shakespeare looked like he understood. He waited for Peggy to put the cups in the dishwasher, then followed her into the basement.
Peggy’s first attempt at a night-blooming rose was a dismal failure. The graft wouldn’t take, and the plant died. She noted it and tried again. The water lily was doing very well. It seemed to like her little pond. Her six-foot angel’s trumpet was blooming, six, waxy white hanging flowers perfuming the air.
She put on gloves to gather pollen from the stamen and harvest a few seeds. She was working on a fast-acting antidote to angel’s trumpet poison she hoped would someday find its way to pet store shelves. Thousands of animals were attracted to the plants and died from its toxin.
After watering the plants that were dry and logging in her results from all of her work, she crept slowly up the basement stairs. She’d never considered an elevator for the old house. But necessity might make her think about it. Someday. Not right now. Her knee was feeling better. She wasn’t old enough or dysfunctional enough to need help yet.
She went up to her bedroom with the dog at her heels. He jumped on the bed as she changed clothes. “I don’t think that’s going to work.” She grabbed a couple of large floor pillows she used for decoration and threw them on the carpet next to her bed. “There you go. Down boy. Down Shakespeare. Come on. On the pillows. Get down.”
The big mouth was grinning and slobbering. The tail was thumping the mattress. The more she called him, the more excited he got. Finally, she gave up and promised she was going to buy a book about dog training.
Peggy glanced at her computer. She hated not to log on and collect her messages. One of them might be from Nightflyer. Not that she wanted to answer it. She lost the debate with herself, sat down in the chair, and booted up her computer.
There were 215 messages. Some of them were spam, but she’d installed a good spam blocker a few months ago, so it caught most of them. Only one message asked her if she was ready to refinance her mortgage. Then there were the obligatory ads that either wanted to enlarge her penis or her breasts. She trashed those and went on.
The rest of the raw autopsy data from Hal Samson was waiting for her. She didn’t want to look at
it until morning. Unlike the Warner case, there was no suspect in the Columbia poisoning. No one’s life was at stake since the poor girl was already dead. She could relax and go through the details later.
There was one message from Nightflyer. He wanted to meet her for chess at midnight. She glanced at her watch. It was almost two A.M. Surely he wouldn’t wait that long for her.
She logged on at the site and waited for a partner. Since the players were located all over the world, there were always people waiting to play. The chat box showed two of them from New Guinea who were already engaged.
Nightflyer has accepted your game.
The statement always meant a clearing of the screen and insertion of the chessboard. She tapped her fingers on the desk and bit her lip. She knew she shouldn’t stay. Wasn’t she worried enough yesterday to ask for Al’s help?