by Vella Day
“I can only pray it’s not.”
“Why don’t you find the shovel, and I’ll take care of the coffee,” he offered.
She gave him a brief smile. “Thanks.”
Poor Jessie. She was too much of an I-won’t-let-anyone-help me type of woman for her own good. From what her grandmother told him, both Jessie’s dad and Margaret’s husband had been sheriff, and Jessie always felt pressure to live up to the Nash name. It was a tall order in a town where women weren’t always given an equal chance.
She returned with the shovel a moment later. “I need to let Nana know not to expect us back anytime soon.”
“I bet she’d appreciate it.”
Jessie was rather curt on the phone, but he understood her need not to let Margaret ask any questions.
Ten minutes later, with a coffee mug to go, they were back on the road, heading into the darkness. When they arrived, the medical examiner’s station wagon was at the plant, with his engine running, brights on.
Jessie sucked in a large, audible breath. “I really don’t want to do this.”
Dax placed a hand on her arm. “You don’t have to. I’m sure Doc Whitmore and I can process the scene.” I don’t mind losing my breath and feeling like I’m about to die, but for you, Jessie, I’ll handle it.
She shook her head. “No, I have to see this through.”
In truth, he’d expected nothing less from her, and his admiration grew. Jessie was the type to keep going despite all adversity. His dad and the service had drilled that same attitude into him. He guessed they had more in common than he’d originally thought.
“I understand.”
“Remember, I’m in charge.”
“Got it.” He’d let her have the needed control, for now.
Jessie scooted out of the cruiser, opened the trunk, and then banged the lid shut.
He slipped out. “Let me carry the shovel.” He didn’t mind playing flunky for one night if it would help Jessie cope.
She handed it to him then grabbed the forensic kit from the back seat along with a roll of orange tape. He hoped she planned to mark the trail. She stepped up to the Medical Examiner’s wagon, and his door opened. Doc Whitmore stepped out, his white hair and thick glasses making the man look close to the grave himself. Not a charitable thought, but right now, he wasn’t in a good mood.
“You ready?” Jessie asked Dax.
“Let’s do it.”
The three of them headed into the too dark forest, and he prayed he could keep his demons at bay for another few hours. The trees blocked the moon’s rays, causing his lungs to cut off his breath once more. Trying to focus on anything but his fears, Dax kept an eye on the aging doctor to make sure the elderly man didn’t slip. Tons of rocks and fallen branches could trip even the most nimble footed.
Dax carried the shovel in one hand and his larger-than-life light in the other. With all three flashlights aimed at the forest floor, his overwhelming loss of control gave way to ordinary anxiety, which he could handle in small doses, though it took concentration to put one foot in front of the other.
The wind seemed to have picked up, carrying with it the strong aroma of pine and wet leaves. He did love the forest—just not at night. Their boots made enough crunching noises to be heard a mile away, which caused the animals to scurry. They had to rest a few times on the short trip up the steep hill, as Doc wasn’t in the best of shape, but Dax said nothing as Jessie pretended to need the rest more than Doc.
Once they reached the ridge, Jessie flashed her light around. “Here’s the broken tree branch I found before, so I know we’re heading in the right direction.” She hung a piece of orange tape from the limb to mark their route.
After a while, Dax lost track of all the bends, twists, and forks, which was why he was thankful Jessie was placing the tape at every turn. The last thing he needed was to be wandering around any more than necessary.
He surveyed the area. “I guess we should have marked our trail the first time, but from the disturbed leaves I can tell we went this way.” A small pile of wet leaves appeared off to the side. “Hey, this is where I found the button that may have belonged to Sadie.” His pulse sped up at his good luck.
“You still got that button, son?”
Dax patted his pocket. “Yes, sir.”
They went deeper into the woods where spider webs slapped Dax in the face. Fast spinning buggers since they weren’t there when he and Jessie first arrived. He hoped they were still on the right path.
“There.” Jessie shown her light on the big laurel tree fifty feet ahead.
When Dax reached the area, he pushed aside the branches and spotlighted the grave. Thank God, nothing had been disturbed. For a split second, he thought they might have had a repeat performance of the disappearing corpse.
He turned back to Jessie. “We forgot our coffee mugs. Damn. Would you mind going back and getting them?” The twenty minute one-way trip would keep her away for a good while.
She set down the kit. “I know your game plan, Mitchell. You think with me out of the way, I won’t see the body. Well, it won’t work. I’ll be back before you finish unearthing the corpse. Save me a seat.”
“Will do.” He liked her spunk.
She pointed a finger at him. “I’m only leaving because I have to wait for the men with the gurney and show them the way.”
He’d momentarily forgotten about them. “Don’t forget the coffee when you come back.”
She turned and gave him the finger over her shoulder, which actually pleased him. Anger was better than depression, or God forbid, tears.
From what she’d told him on the ride over, the attendants were at a hospital some forty minutes away. Maybe he could take care of the body before she returned with the men.
Dax held the camera out to the medical examiner. “You want to do the honors, or should I?”
Dr. Whitmore waved a hand at the grave. “Be my guest.”
Dax spent several minutes photographing the grave as well as the surrounding area. A couple of times, the medical examiner asked him to take some specific shot, and he obliged. “I’ll come back tomorrow and snap some more photos of the surrounding area,” Dax said. “Daylight can often pick up something the camera misses at night.”
“Good thinking.”
Dax stuffed the camera into his sweater pocket. “If you could aim the light on the grave,” Dax said, “I’ll start digging.”
The doc placed a hand on Dax’s shoulder. “Be careful, now. We don’t want to damage the body. It’s hard enough to do the autopsy; even more so if you put shovel marks in the flesh.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve been through the drill a few times.”
Dax carefully dug around the edge of the shallow gravesite, and within minutes, two fingers emerged from the earth. “Shine the light closer,” Dax said. A dark, gnarled forefinger flapped in the wind.
“You think it’s Sadie Palmer?” Doc asked.
“Hard to tell. Decomp does strange things to a body, but you already know that.”
Dax continued to peel away the dirt until the smell of gases made him move back for a moment. He pressed on, as he wanted to finish before Jessie returned. Dax pulled on a pair of latex gloves and dropped to his knees. Using his fingers, he pushed the dirt away from the body’s face.
The rustling of leaves, along with voices, told him Jessie and her help would be there in less than a minute. When he finished unearthing the darkened face, he looked up at Doc. “Well?”
Chapter 9
Doc held the light steady over the corpse’s face. “That’s Sadie, all right. Dear Lord in Heaven, have mercy on her soul.” He made a sign of the cross.
“Dax?” Jessie rushed up to him, her voice sounding like she was drowning.
He jumped up and held her at arm’s length, shielding her view of the body. “Jessie, I’m so sorry. I’m afraid it’s Sadie.”
“Ohmigod, no.” She tried to step around him, but he blocked her path. “I ca
n’t believe it. I mean, I can b-believe it, but I don’t want it to be true. Are you sure?”
“Doc identified her.”
Her lips firmed, a clear sign she was fighting for control. “How did she die?”
He debated sugar coating the cause of death, but Jessie would be angry when she found out the truth. The bullet had penetrated the skull and lodged in her cheek. “A shot to the back of the head.”
She gasped then bent over a few inches acting as if someone had punched her in the stomach. “Here’s your damned coffee.” She shoved the mug at his chest, but he recognized her anger wasn’t directed at him.
“I’ll take over, sir.” One of the attendants slipped the shovel from Dax’s fingers.
“Thank you.” He turned back to Jessie. “Why don’t I walk you to the car while these men finish up here?” In her emotional state, she’d only get in the way.
She straightened, shot him a focused glare, and then pushed past him to step to the edge of the grave. A strangled cry left her lips, and for a moment, he thought she might become sick viewing the body, but she didn’t.
Instead, she clenched her hands and whipped back around. “I don’t know how they do things in Baltimore, but in Kerry, it’s my duty to stay until Sadie is safely in the medical examiner’s van.”
He gave her a two-fingered salute. It had been a mistake to treat Jessie with anything less than total equality. She was a fine officer. “Understood.”
Dax moved out of the workers’ way, lifted the lid off the hot coffee, and guzzled it. Damn if it didn’t lack that needed kick he was looking for. He took a sniff but detected no aroma. However, on a cold evening, he couldn’t be picky.
“Excuse me, Jess,” one of the attendants said. “We need to move the gurney closer to the body.”
“Jessie, stand by me,” Dax said.
She moved, but it was to the other side of the grave. Perhaps he’d been too patronizing. Hell, he couldn’t help it. He was used to giving orders, being in control, and looking out for everyone.
It took close to half an hour for the two attendants to place the body into the bag and ready the gurney to transport to the van. Except for the scuffling of feet, both human and animal, along with the occasional squeaky wheel, the team marched in silence along the path. Maneuvering down the rocks took skill, but the two attendants handled the chore well. Doc was a bit shaky going down, but Dax couldn’t tell if it was his age or from being upset over Sadie’s death.
When they arrived back at the plant, Jessie went into her deputy mode, directing the men on how they should do their job until one of the attendants took her aside. Dax couldn’t hear what was said, but from her rigid posture, she didn’t like what he told her.
Jessie then began her pacing ritual while the men finished up with Sadie. After Dax cleaned the shovel the best he could and dropped it in the cruiser’s trunk, he pried the field kit from her fingers. She was holding the damned kit so close to her chest he’d have thought she had a million dollars worth of diamonds in there.
In the time it took to dig up Sadie, a fog bank had rolled in, blocking the light from the moon. If he believed in vampires and werewolves, he’d be convinced they’d surely be on the prowl right now. Hell, he could almost hear them baying in the wind.
Dax stowed the kit in the back and then snagged Jessie’s car keys so he could turn on the cruiser’s headlights. The moment the area flooded with light, his shoulders relaxed and his breathing evened out.
When Doc Whitmore and the men had Sadie safely stored inside the medical wagon, he took off. The two men from the hospital followed a minute later, leaving cement dust in their wake.
With her hand blocking the headlight’s glare, Jessie watched the team depart, looking like a child who’d been separated from her mother. Dax stepped toward her, debating whether to offer comfort but decided his embrace wouldn’t be welcome—not this time anyway.
Red glowing taillights eased around the bend and disappeared. Goodbye, Sadie. He wished he’d have met her under better circumstances, but such was life, or rather death.
After being outside for several hours, he was almost immune to the chill that had seeped into his lungs. Odd, he never did like the cold, but tonight he was dead inside and out and barely felt it.
Dax brushed the grime off his pants, kicked the mud from the bottom of his shoes, and then slipped back into the passenger’s seat, letting Jessie deal with the trauma in her own way.
A moment later, she ripped open the driver’s side door and jumped in. Clearly, she was battling her inner demons and probably losing. Despite their talk at the station, she still acted as though Sadie’s murder was her fault somehow. From experience, nothing he could say would change her mind, so he kept quiet, letting her work through the pain.
Jessie threw the car in reverse with a little too much gusto, backed up, and raced out of there. No cars were on the road, yet she took a curve so fast two wheels lifted off the pavement for a second, forcing him to grab onto the dashboard.
“Ah, Jessie. No one’s chasing us.” It wasn’t subtle.
She slowed. “Sorry. I just wanted to get away from there.”
“I can’t blame you.”
Jessie was halfway to town before she spoke again. “Sadie’s death is going to kill Nana, you know.”
She sounded composed, but deep inside she had to be hurting. “I figured. You know, one of the reasons I left the force and went into private investigation was because telling someone a family member was dead, ranked up there with someone shoving a gun in my face.” Not the whole truth, but part, anyway.
She half-smiled. “Thank you.”
At least he hadn’t made the situation worse. For him, he considered it a small victory.
“Before we go home,” she said. “I want to do my rounds at the bar. Do you mind?”
She took being an officer of the law to the extreme, but he figured by checking on the bar, she could avoid telling Margaret about Sadie for a bit longer. In a way, he wished she would break down, as it might help release the anger from her system. “Are you there to check up on the locals or do you plan to have a drink?” He hoped the latter.
Not answering, she gripped the wheel tighter.
As Jessie drove back to town, a wave of depression almost made her stop and vomit on the roadside, but she swallowed hard to keep down the bile. She still couldn’t believe Sadie was dead. She’d suspected something bad might have happened to Nana’s friend, but she’d wanted to believe Sadie would come breezing back into town with some wild adventure story, like she had so many times before.
This news would break Nana’s heart, just as hers was breaking now.
Jessie glanced over at Dax. He was staring out the side window, seemingly off in his own world. Working in a big city like he did, seeing a dead body was probably no biggie, and she wondered what encountering corpses on a regular basis did to the soul—crush it or make him immune to any caring?
She set aside the horror and concentrated on the road. As they neared town, the traffic picked up, and she sighed. Saturday night was in full swing, and she definitely wasn’t in the mood to deal with any drunks, but keeping her routine would help her regain some control.
She circled past the bar and returned to the south end of town. “Do you mind if we park at my office and walk the few blocks to the Coal Mine?” Not that she had a choice as the parking spaces in between were taken.
“I’m game.”
She thought she saw him wince. Darn. She should probably drop him off in front of the bar given how badly he had been limping, but she bet he wouldn’t appreciate being treated as an invalid. If it had been her, she wouldn’t have wanted special treatment.
Jessie pulled to the curb in front of her office, cut the engine, and stepped out. Fresh, cold air woke her up and helped ease the ache in her belly. Jessie tried to brush off the dried dirt and grass stains from her pants, but she didn’t succeed. Her beige slacks were now ruined. She hoped people wouldn
’t take one look at her and think she’d had sex in the forest with Dax—on her knees.
For a brief moment of escapism, Jessie let her mind drift far away from the horror of the night. She bet Dax would be smokin’ hot in the bed department—not that she’d ever find out. Any man with his body and strong hands would surely be amazing at—
“You ever go to the bar just to relax and visit with friends or even enjoy a dance or two?” he asked.
“Huh? Oh, the b-bar. Not really. Clinton and I took turns checking on the place, especially on weekends, since we needed to make sure no one became too out of hand or too drunk to drive home. I didn’t go very often just to have fun.”
“I see.”
That made her sound so lame, but having fun was expensive. Be honest. Fine. It might be that she was afraid to let anyone or anything in. Her desire to live up to the Nash name required all her dedication, though of late she had wondered at what expense?
They walked in silence the rest of the way to the bar. Jessie usually enjoyed looking in the bookstore window and in the small craft shop, but tonight, nothing interested her. Dax’s face remained tense as he held open the door to the Coal Mine Bar. Perhaps seeing Sadie’s body had upset him more than she’d realized.
“Thank you,” she said as she stepped past him.
Body heat and the stench of spilled beer slammed into her the moment she crossed the threshold. Too many people were in here tonight. If the fire chief stopped by, half the town would be out on their asses.
Familiar country music blared from the jukebox. As the couples swung their butts around on the tiny dance floor, a twinge of regret grabbed her. Deep down inside, she wanted a dance partner for life, but to let go like that could alter her too much.
Dax moved behind her. “The place is packed.”
Jessie turned and looked up at him, happy to be talking about facts instead of emotion. “It’s always like this on a Saturday night. There’s not much else to do in Kerry but drink. You should have seen it before the mine closed. I swear there was often a line a mile long to get in here.”