Corpse Whisperer

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Corpse Whisperer Page 10

by Chris Redding


  “The landlord. He was coming by to fix something. We can’t locate him right now.”

  “That’s odd,” Zach said, the stench of charcoal invading his nostrils. He’d never get over that smell. “You think he started it?”

  Ed shrugged. “We’ll have to see.”

  “Right. Guess you’ll start with the wife.

  ***

  Grace’s cell phone rang. “Hello Mark.”

  “Hey, Gracie. How’d you know it was me? Are you doing that back in time thing again?”

  She sat in her new apartment, lounging in sweatpants and a t-shirt. She didn’t have the energy to unpack. Time travel took a piece out of her. Having done it twice in less than a week, exhaustion attacked her bones. “Yes, I am, but things are odd. The days are not repeating themselves. I don’t know what it means.”

  “How so?”

  “Well I’m meeting people before I’m supposed to and my apartment burned down early this time. It didn’t the first two times.”

  “Back up this truck. You’ve been through this twice? Has that ever happened before?”

  “No, never. The first time the person was murdered anyway.”

  “But that happened last time, too. That murder victim died also. Gracie, I see a trend.”

  She shuddered, thinking about her last town and her last murder victim. Shaking her head she cleared it of the bad reminders of a failed job. “Yes, but the murder victim didn’t talk to me the next time. This one did. I’m scared.”

  “I wish could be there, but I’m in California. Got a gig on a commercial. We start shooting tomorrow. Won’t be done for a week.”

  Ever the struggling actor, Grace didn’t know how Mark even paid his own rent. Should she ask him if he was on his way here? That could be different, too.

  “This will all be over in two days.”

  “Two days? Is that when she’d killed? On your birthday?”

  “My birthday’s in three days.”

  “Check the date, Gracie.”

  She grabbed for a newspaper and sure enough, Mark was right. Her eyes drifted closed as her heart thumped in her chest. How could she possibly do this in this short a time?

  “Do you usually get that little time?” Mark asked.

  “That’s another strange thing. I usually have three weeks. I have some ideas about where to start and who to check off my list, but that’s it.”

  “Doesn’t sound like fun.”

  “No it isn’t. Gotta go Mark, someone’s knocking on my door.”

  ***

  Dolores had brought Chinese food and she and Grace had devoured it when the inevitable knock came on the door. For a moment, Grace wanted to tell Dolores everything. How else could she save her?

  Zach stood on her doorstep scowling. He was going to be even grumpier than last time. Why did she find this man attractive?

  “We meet again. Come in,” Grace said.

  Zach strode into the apartment as if he owned it. Technically when he was married to Dolores he had.

  “Hey, Zach, what brings you here?” Dolores asked.

  “I have a few questions for Miss Harmony.”

  “Is this official business?”

  “Yes, you’ll have to go Dolores.”

  This wasn’t how it had been before. Grace felt the undertow had taken a hold of her foot and she was going to drown. Dolores left and Grace settled on her couch that opened to a bed. Zach stood.

  “Sit.”

  “No.”

  “I’m not answering questions with you towering over me. Do I need a lawyer?”

  He sat. “Not unless you did something wrong.”

  “I haven’t. What is this about?”

  “The fire at your apartment complex. Your landlord is missing and the fire started in your apartment.”

  Grace put a hand over her open mouth. “I asked him to look at my stove. I thought it was leaking. Could that have started the fire?”

  “We don’t know exactly how the fire started, but it wasn’t an accident. How well did you know your landlord?”

  “Not well. I’d only lived there three weeks.”

  Zach flipped open a pad. “You didn’t see him socially?”

  “Socially? He’s married.”

  His stare went through her. Then she understood him.

  “Lovers. You think I was his lover? Have you seen his wife?”

  “No.”

  “She’s a beautiful woman. Why would he have an affair with me when he could go home to that?”

  His gaze remained unflinching, but she refused to fill in the silence. So the lack of noise stretched on for a moment, Grace staring into his gray eyes. Faint lines on his granite face hinted at the character they’d show when he was older.

  His olive skin was already beginning to sport a tan, which didn’t make sense if he spent the day in an office. “So he was in your apartment to fix the stove?”

  “I guess. I was on my way to meet him.”

  She relaxed. If this was about the fire then she had nothing to worry about. “Have you eaten?”

  His gaze bounced from his notepad then to her. His eyes narrowed. “No.”

  “There’s some leftover Chinese I could heat up.”

  “Miss this is an official investigation.”

  “So you don’t eat when you’re on duty?”

  “This isn’t a social call.”

  “I didn’t expect it was, but you need to eat.”

  His eyes looked tired in that instant as if he’d fought too many battles that day to win this one. “Fine, but where were you earlier today?”

  “You mean when the fire would have been set?”

  “Yes if it turns out it was set.”

  “You’re leaning that way.”

  He shrugged. “Instincts.”

  “Okay.”

  She put the food in a microwave bowl and set it on its course to reheating. Then she wiped her hands on a towel before settling back on the couch. “I got off work about 6 a.m.”

  “Did you go home?”

  “No, we’d had a tough last call and I was wired. I went to the gym, worked out.”

  “Anyone see you there?”

  “I had to sign in with an electronic card.”

  He cocked his head. “But you could have left?”

  “I guess, yes, I could have. But I didn’t.”

  “Then what?”

  “I called Dolores and she met me at her place. She told me she was taking a half day anyway so she didn’t mind.”

  “What time?”

  “I’m gonna say ten or so. She may remember.”

  “I’ll ask her.”

  “No doubt.”

  His gaze flicked back to her. She sensed something warm in his look, but he quickly buried it. The microwave dinged.

  “Then after Dolores?”

  “Shopping. I can show you the receipts.”

  He nodded, snapped his book closed then stood. “How about that food?”

  She eyed him wondering how he could bounce out of his cop persona so readily. “Food’s done then.”

  He smiled. “Good, I’m starved.”

  ***

  Zach dialed Ed Bauer as soon as he left Grace’s apartment. “She didn’t do it.”

  “Who didn’t do what?”

  “Grace Harmony didn’t set that fire.”

  “What about the stuff I uncovered in Pennsylvania?”

  “I don’t care. She didn’t do it.”

  “Okay, but I’m not closing the book on her just because you’re dick is twitching.”

  Zach disconnected and let out a loud laugh. Yes his dick was twitching

  Chapter Fourteen

  Grace’s cell phone rang, waking her out of an amazing dream. About Zach again.

  Mark’s slurred speech brought her to full awake. Something was very wrong. Her bones told her. They ached with anticipation and not from her erotic fantasy.

  “Mark? Are you drunk?”

  What was going o
n with him? It was as if the world had leaned a little on its axis. Nothing was as it should be. She hated being confused.

  “Yes, I’m sitting on the beach, toasted in several ways.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She hadn’t known Mark to be a drinker. The occasional beer was the most she’d ever seen him consume. Something awful must have happened to him.

  “I love you,” he said, with finality.

  The words hung in her ear like a crouton that was too dry to swallow. This was not a problem she needed right now.

  Her eyes fell closed. This was all happening too fast. She knew he felt this way, but why was he calling so soon? “What? Mark, what’s wrong? Tell me.”

  “That’s it, Gracie. I love you and always have. I’m trying to prevent a murder, here. I’m so wracked with guilt.”

  “Mark, calm down. Who is going to get murdered?”

  Not another one. She’d had enough of dead bodies in her 29 years. She couldn’t handle another one.

  “Oh, Gracie. You know. You always knew. Sometimes before I did.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I wish I didn’t love you. My phone’s dying.”

  He severed the connection, leaving Grace with a pounding heart and a confused brain. She punched in his phone number, but his voicemail answered. “Mark, call me when you get this thing charged.”

  What could all this mean? Did Mark have something to do with the puzzle of Dolores’ death? She couldn’t figure out how he could. She shook off the eerie chill that had descended on her.

  Knowing full well sleep was not going to happen, Grace pulled on bike shorts and a t-shirt to go for a run. When she finished, she walked the last block, her mind still whirling from what Mark said.

  “He couldn’t mean Dolores? He doesn’t even know her and why would he kill her?”

  She ran a hand over her sweaty face and turned down the driveway, stopping dead for a moment. Someone stood looking up at her apartment. The moonlight illuminated him, but not enough for her to make a description.

  Her cell phone came off her belt and she dialed the police, then Zach.

  “How’d you get my number?” he said.

  Shit. She’d forgotten she didn’t know that yet. “Uh, Dolores gave it to me in case of emergencies. This is one. There’s a guy standing on our driveway.”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  Grace hid behind a tree across the street but kept eyeing the man. He didn’t move, just stood and stared as if studying the place. What would she have to steal?

  A patrol car cruised up the street, no lights or siren, then pulled into Dolores’ driveway. The man stared into the headlights, and then ran.

  Grace walked over to the cop. “I’m the one who called.”

  “I’m Officer James, Ma’am. You live here?”

  “In the apartment above the garage. Didn’t you see that man? He ran away?”

  The cop eyed her. “I didn’t see anyone.”

  “He looked familiar.”

  The cop pulled out a notepad. “You know him?”

  “Can’t say for sure.”

  Her head spun. This wasn’t how it should work. What had she done differently to make a change in the events?

  The man didn’t resemble Mark. Who else would be here?

  The cop asked a few more questions then promised he’d look around the neighborhood.

  ***

  Zach was waiting for Grace when she got out of work. Same stance he’d had before, but two days earlier than she expected.

  He wore khakis and a blue button-down shirt. Wet hair, slicked back from his face, ended in a riot of curls at his neck. Steely eyes stared through her over mirrored sunglasses. With his jaw set, his face looked to have been carved from granite.

  She supposed that countenance could intimidate many, but she wasn’t buying. Her lack of sleep and inability to solve this murder took precedence over his ego.

  “Howdy.”

  His scowl deepened. She found him more attractive when he smiled. Now he was cop-like.

  He pushed away from her car. “How’d you get my phone number?”

  A bird flew overhead and squawked as if laying claim to some morsel of food no one else could see. Parking lot gulls she called them.

  “I told you. Dolores gave it to me.”

  “She says she didn’t.”

  “She did. Maybe she forgot. She is pregnant.”

  His hands clenched to fists, but she felt no fear. He wouldn’t hit her. “She told you that?”

  “Yes. And I think you and I need to talk. Can I buy you a drink? I’ve had a rough day looking in a dumpster for someone’s ear.”

  His stare went through her again. You’d think she’d asked him to strip naked in the parking lot. Not that she wouldn’t have enjoyed a private showing of the Zach Holten show. She missed his touch, even if it sent her brain into a frenzy of colors.

  “Okay,” he said after a long silence.

  He met her at the coffee shop next to the Robber Baron in downtown Mill Hall, a borough just south of the Glen Hills.

  She led him to a table in the back corner of the smoke-free coffee bar. The place was in the lull between people on their way home and those coming out for dessert. This place had the best cheesecake she’d ever tasted.

  Grace ordered a cappuccino, but Zach only wanted seltzer water. She wondered why no coffee? That’s what he’d ordered last time.

  “So speak.”

  “You’re going to think I’m nuts, but I believe that Dolores is in danger.”

  He didn’t flinch. His expression didn’t change. Only his eyes flicked from his hands to her face. A small smile formed, indicating he liked what he saw. He visibly shook himself, reforming his expressionless face. “Danger from what?”

  “From whom. I don’t know. She’s going to be murdered.”

  If she could only kiss him and make him remember what they’d shared, maybe he’d believe her. Everyone else had amnesia. Not her.

  He almost stood. She could see it in the stiffening of his spine. “Are you threatening her?”

  “No, and I know it seems that way, but I’m not. Someone is going to kill her.”

  Zach looked around the well-lit shop as if he were afraid someone heard her. He leaned closed so she could smell peppermint breath. “How do you know this?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “That’s obstruction of justice. Aiding a felon, too perhaps.”

  “Zach, just listen. I realize you aren’t going to believe me, but I need to talk to your ex-boss.”

  “My old boss? How do you know who my boss was?”

  “I just do.”

  “Miss, this is nuts. Why do you need to talk to my boss?”

  “Because he might be the father of Dolores baby.”

  He smacked his forehead then rubbed a hand down his face. “He’s a happily married man.”

  “Humor me.”

  Zach’s head shook, sending his now dry ebony curls in all directions. “No, you will not sully his reputation with these half-assed ideas. Did Dolores tell you he was the father of her baby?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Well she did, but not in this go round. Of course he wouldn’t understand that. She searched his face. There was no recognition of her, none of the tenderness they’d shared. Her heart hurt.

  She’d never wanted to rewind again. Maybe after today became tomorrow and she turned thirty she wouldn’t have to, but would Zach ever fall in love again?

  “For your information, I’m the father of her baby.”

  If he were so sure, he wouldn’t be looking at Grace as if she were the only woman in the room. “You’re not.”

  “I think Lors should know and she told me I was.”

  “You aren’t. She’s too pregnant.”

  “What? How can you know that?”

  “I can’t answer that.”

  The drinks arrived and Grace took a healthy swig of hers.
The liquid scalded her throat like the reality she was facing. This part wasn’t getting any easier. Zach thought she was even nuttier than he did last time she was through this.

  He sipped at his seltzer then set it on the table as if it were fine china. His long fingers traced a circle around the condensation on the glass. “Look, I don’t know what your game is, but maybe you need some help.” His hand snaked across the table and covered hers. She braced for the colors to come. They did, but she was able to keep her focus on his words.

  “You didn’t need to concoct such a convoluted story to get me to go out with you. Grace, you seem like a sweet person, but I’m not the white picket fence type.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You think. That I.” She struggled to finish her sentences. “I didn’t do this to ask you out. If I’d wanted that, I would have asked the question, point blank.”

  He withdrew his hand. “Then this isn’t a guise to get me alone.”

  His face fell a little as if he’d been hoping that she had been interested in him. Could she use this to her advantage? Her mind searched for ideas to no avail.

  “Zach, I’m telling the truth.”

  His face hardened. “You haven’t told me much, Grace. Just some suppositions. Look, I’m hungry. I’m going home to eat.”

  He stood and dropped some bills on the table.

  Grace was at the bottom of a hill with no transportation to the top.

  ***

  Zach finished his yoga, but his mind wasn’t settled. When he’d touched Grace’s hand he felt a warmth and sincerity he’d never seen in anyone. Not even Dolores and he’d married her.

  His brain still not silent, he went for a walk in a local park.

  Grace sat slumped on a bench, gripping her cell phone, a frown creasing her face. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so harsh on her.

  “You okay?”

  She jumped at his voice, then her eyes narrowed. He wasn’t welcome here. Dusk was settling all around them. The park goers had long left the swings still. No children laughed or screamed. The park was ready to go to sleep.

  “Fine.”

  She didn’t move to leave him so he sat next to her. She wore running shorts and a t-shirt damp with sweat.

  “You run?”

  She nodded still staring at her cell phone.

  “Does it do tricks?”

  “What?” She glanced at him.

 

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