Gallows Humor

by Carolyn Elizabeth

  “Yeah, sure, no worries.” Rachel looked very worried. “Who was the smelly dude?”

  “I don’t know.” Corey glanced up as someone towered over them. “But here’s the man who’s going to find out, I hope.”

  Rachel glanced up, then rocketed out of the chair, her face paling. “Sergeant Collier.”

  Collier’s eyes narrowed. “Ms. Wiley.”

  Corey looked between them. “You two know each other?”

  “I wouldn’t say know,” Rachel muttered.

  “We don’t need to be introduced.”

  “Can I get you something?”

  “Coffee, black.” He sat in her vacated chair.

  “Corey?” Rachel asked.

  “Actually, if you have any ibuprofen or something that would be great.”

  “How many?”

  “All of them in the world.” She eased back down in the chair.

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Collier sipped the coffee Rachel had dropped off for him. “Aren’t you going to ask how we know each other?”

  “No.” Corey tipped her head back and dropped four tablets into her mouth, washing them back with coffee. “Because I know you’re not going to tell me and I’m too tired to fight about it.”

  He eyed her. “Are you doing okay?”

  “Oh, don’t get all weepy on me, Collier.” She waved him off. “I’ll get it out of Rachel another time.”

  “Right.” He harrumphed and pulled his notebook from his pocket. “I trust your night went well?”

  “Super.” She let her head rest against the back of the chair again.

  He studied her. “What’s with the attitude, Curtis?”

  “Attitude?” She snapped her head forward and regretted the movement instantly, her hand coming to rest against the back of her neck. “How about some jerk off nearly caved my head in outside my own goddamn office and I have no idea why?”

  “Take it easy,” he grumbled, gesturing to her. “Still hurt?”

  “Yeah, it fucking hurts. Will you stop trying to pretend you care about me and do your job?”

  He gaped at her, jerking back in his seat. She had never spoken to him like that. They had their grumpy banter and they gave each other shit whenever possible, but they did care and respect each other.

  She sighed, massaging the back of her neck and let her head hang forward. “Shit, Collier. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  He sat back and stared. “You sure you’re not brain damaged?” His mouth twisted into a smile. “Don’t think you’ve ever apologized to me.”

  She knew she was forgiven but she still felt terrible. “Maybe. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing right now. I’m not even wearing a bra.” She caught his gaze dart to her chest and grinned at him.

  “You’re fucking hilarious.” He reddened and flipped his book open. “I’m not going to bullshit you, Curtis.”

  “I expect nothing less.”

  “There’s not much to go on. We have the brick but we’re not going to get any prints off that. Officers dusted the morgue and pulled prints off just about everything. But without a suspect to match them to, there’s nothing to run against. We would have to eliminate half the medical staff first. It was too late for anyone to be around to witness anything, and we’ve interviewed just about everyone who works in the basement and in and around the loading dock. And you didn’t get a look at him. He may have had a car parked somewhere or he may have been on foot.” He looked a question to her.

  “I didn’t see a car when I pulled in. I would have noticed.”

  “And what we were able to pull from the security footage confirms that. Cameras were pointed toward the loading docks, not the morgue door, but they caught a glimpse of a figure like you described. Tech guys are trying to clean it up but it doesn’t look good,” he explained. “So I’m thinking it was just a crime of opportunity.”

  She didn’t like that conclusion. It made no sense. “He wouldn’t have known which way cameras were pointing and if someone wanted to get into the hospital, there’s half a dozen entrances he could have gone in without going through me. And what the hell are you going to ransack the morgue for?”

  “So, we’re back to you. Anything you can think of? You piss anyone off lately? Besides me, I mean? What about your ex?” He sat back and drank his coffee.

  “I can assure you it was not my ex,” she stated.

  “Her father? Brother? Jilted lover?”

  “No, no and no.”

  “All right. Listen. I’ll leave it open for a few days and see if something turns up. Check other assaults and break-ins in the area and see if we get a hit on something that matches.”

  “Thanks.” She wasn’t happy about it but she knew he would do everything he could.

  “In the meantime I went by your place last night and again this morning. It’s clear so you can go home. It’s very you by the way.”

  Corey straightened. “You were in my condo? How?”

  He fished her keys and hospital ID from his pocket and passed them over. “Your doc gave me these last night and told me where you live. Course I could have found out on my own. I wanted to be sure it was safe.”

  She smiled appreciatively, chagrined at her earlier outburst. “Thank you.”

  “Anything else you need right now?” He stuck his notebook back in his pocket.

  “Can you give me a ride to the morgue? I want to check out the damage and I need to get my truck.”

  “Yeah, come on.”

  They both got out of the car and she looked across the hood to him. “You don’t need to come in. I’m fine.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself. I want to know if you think anything was taken.”

  “Ladies first, then.” She held the door for him grandly and he snorted a laugh.

  “Well?” he asked as soon as they set foot inside.

  She looked around with dismay. The floor had been cleaned but the smell of formalin lingered. All her instruments and supplies had been picked up and stacked unceremoniously on every available counter. “Shit.” She picked up the Stryker saw. “Fucker busted my new saw.”

  “Anything missing?”

  She raked her hands through her hair, wincing when she came too close to the wound. “Not that I can tell, but honestly, I don’t even know everything I have down here.”

  Someone leaned on the buzzer at the loading dock, startling them both.

  “I got it,” he said, ducking back through the door. He returned a few minutes later with a very agitated Jude. “You know this little shit?”

  “Corey, thank you, Jesus.” He glared at Collier. “I need the body of your guy, Akers, from the construction site. His wife wants the funeral tomorrow. I’ve been calling you all morning. I don’t even know if we can pull this off.”

  “Yeah, sure.” She slapped on her borrowed flip-flops over to the cooler.

  “What is it? Casual Friday or something?” Jude snickered, eyeing her clothes.

  “Or something.” She wheeled Gordon Akers’s body out and helped transfer him to the funeral home stretcher. “Hold on. I have some of his stuff.”

  “No time,” Jude replied and whipped the stretcher through the door. “Thanks, man.”

  “Who the hell was that little snot?” Collier grumbled.

  “Jude Weatherly from the funeral home.” Her lips twitched. “Why? What did he say to you?”

  “Nothing I care to repeat.” He headed to the door. “Let’s get out of here. You look like you could use a nap.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Corey took Collier’s suggestion and flopped onto her bed after texting Thayer she was given the all clear to head home and that she was all right. She slept for the rest of the day and was surprised to find the sun setting when she finally cracked her eyes. Her headache was gone, and as she took a deep breath, there was no more burning in her lungs. She was, however, in desperate need of another shower.

 
She could not abide anything less than a scalding hot shower, so this time she turned the fan on and left the door open to dissipate any steam that might cause her breathing issues to resurface. Her shower was hot and uneventful, and for that, she was grateful. She was pulling on lounge pants and a long-sleeved Star Wars T-shirt when her doorbell chimed. She took the stairs two at a time thinking Collier would bust it open if she didn’t answer in a timely fashion.

  “You made your point.” She flung the door wide. “You care.” She froze seeing Thayer standing at her door. “Hi. Sorry. I thought you were someone else.”

  “Well, I do care,” Thayer replied, “which is why I’ve been texting you all afternoon and evening. And then I got worried. And then I bought dinner and brought it over so I would have an excuse to check in on you. Are you hungry?” She held up a pizza box.

  “Yeah.” Corey nodded, enthusiastically. “Actually, I haven’t eaten since the last time you fed me so this makes perfect sense.” She moved back from the door and relieved Thayer of the pizza. “Come on in.” She headed to the kitchen, grateful she had straightened up yesterday.

  “I hope you’re okay with bacon cheeseburger pizza. It’s kind of my jam after a long day.” Thayer slid onto a stool on the opposite side of the kitchen counter.

  “Okay with it? Marry it, more like.” She paused. “Why do you know someone who isn’t?”

  “Actually, yes, and it doomed our relationship.”

  “Well, yeah. How could it not? There is no compromising on pizza toppings.”

  Thayer narrowed her eyes. “Green pepper?”

  “Amazing.”

  “Onions?”

  “Always.”

  “Pineapple?”

  “The best.”

  “Mushrooms?”

  Corey hesitated. “I can pick them off.”

  “Black olives?”

  She grinned. “Verboten.”

  Thayer’s mouth twitched. “Not a deal breaker, I suppose.”

  Corey dropped her head onto her hands. “Oh, thank god.” She sighed before lunging for the pizza box and helping herself to the biggest slice. She crammed a huge bite into her mouth. “Mmm, so good.”

  Thayer laughed and chose a slice for herself. “So, it seems we’re not doomed.”

  “Were you concerned?”

  Thayer chewed thoughtfully. “Your truck is out front.”

  “It is?” She feigned surprise. “Huh.”

  Thayer arched a brow at her and continued to eat. “You drove AMA.”

  “Advanced maternal age? Isn’t that thirty-five?” She took another bite and looked away.

  “Clever. Against medical advice. But I see you’re up on your acronyms.”

  “Thayer, I’m fine.” Corey grinned. “What would you like to drink?” She opted to change the subject and turned to the fridge, flinging it open. “I have beer and uh, tap water.” She turned with two bottles.

  Thayer, her mouth full, waved her over and took a bottle, twisting the cap, and draining half of it to wash down her pizza.

  “Hidden depths, Dr. Reynolds.”

  Thayer raised her bottle. “If that’s what you call enjoying a good lager, sure.”

  She raised her bottle to her lips and paused. “I’m okay to drink this, right?”

  “Absolutely not. No booze.”

  “Oh.” She set it on the counter, eyeing it longingly.

  “Corey, I’m joking.”

  She snatched it back up and took a long pull. “Okay, good.”

  “There’s something I need to tell you.” Thayer’s face grew serious but her eyes danced with humor.

  “Uh-oh.” She lowered her bottle. “Sounds ominous.”

  “It may be. That black A4, you know the one?” She grinned. “It belongs to Dr. Tweedle.”

  Corey’s jaw dropped. “No way.” Her face split in a huge grin. “Holy shit.”

  Thayer nodded. “We all got an email reminder from security to park in lit areas, lock your car doors and call on security to walk you to your car if you’re feeling unsafe because there was an attempted late night break in.”

  Corey cracked up. “Oh, shit. That is so funny. I’m going to laugh about that forever.” She reached for her beer again. “Wonder what he was doing there so late.”

  “Probably his secretary.”

  She choked on her beer. “Really?”

  “I don’t know.” Thayer laughed. “I just made that up. Don’t repeat that.”

  Corey watched as Thayer spun on her chair to survey her living room. It was nothing fancy but the furniture matched and was comfortable. She had an entertainment center against one wall with her television, Blue Ray collection and some of her favorite books. All other walls were adorned with framed movie posters from the eighties—her favorites—that her best babysitter, a woman with whom she still kept in touch and considered a friend, introduced her to.

  Thayer hopped off the stool and worked her way around for a closer look. “I don’t even know most of these.” She stopped in front of the poster of 9 to 5. “Is that Dolly Parton?”

  “And Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin. You’ve never seen it?” She was aghast.

  “Uh-oh.” Thayer glanced at her. “Doom isn’t threatening again is it?”

  “Oh, no. Your eighties movie education is something easily corrected.”

  “Phew.” Thayer moved on and pointed to the poster of Aliens. “This one I know.”

  “That’s a start.”

  “This one looks ridiculous.” Thayer tapped on the glass. “I mean this woman is gorgeous but what is she wearing? A wetsuit?”

  “That, my friend, is Helen Slater as Billie Jean Davy and The Legend of Billie Jean is amazing and I used to want to be her. I credit her with helping make me the woman I am today.”

  “Wow, that’s high praise. Guess I’ll have to give it a fair shot.”

  “Fair is fair.” Corey grinned stupidly.

  Thayer smiled back but clearly didn’t get the joke. “So, it looks like I have my work cut out for me.” She eyed the many other posters.

  “I can send you home with some if you like.”

  “First, I don’t have a television. It’s on my list of things to do.” She turned and faced her. “Second, why would I want to watch your favorite movies without you?”

  Corey’s heart skipped a beat at Thayer’s clear intention to come over more often. Her brain quickly flashed images of the two of them cuddled on the couch together…and then doing other things. Thayer turned those golden eyes on her and she lost herself again in the fantasy of Thayer under her, over her, inside her. Her brain shorted out as her muscles tightened and her core flooded with heat and a delicious ache between her legs. “Okay,” she blurted, finally wrestling herself back to reality.

  “But not tonight,” Thayer said regretfully, breaking her gaze as if she could read her mind. “I have to go in again and do an overnight and I want to hear what the police said about your assault last night.”

  Corey’s face fell as, once again, reality beat her into submission. She dropped onto the sofa and flung her long legs on the ottoman. “My assault,” she grumbled. “Jesus, that pisses me off.”

  Thayer sat next to her on the sofa but perched on the edge so she could look at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “No, it’s not you.” She reached out and placed a hand on her arm. “It just makes me sound like such a victim.” She blew out a breath. “Which I am, I guess.”

  “Could Jim tell you anything?”

  “Only how slim the chances are of ever finding the asshole.”

  Thayer looked concerned. “Do you want to talk it out? See if something else comes to mind?”

  She managed a small smile at Thayer’s offer to help her gain back control. She was thoughtful and perceptive and it touched Corey deeply. “I don’t know what else I can add.”

  “Well, what do you keep in the morgue?”

  “Dead bodies and body parts, paperwork about bodies a
nd parts and instruments with which to dissect bodies and parts.”

  “Could he have been looking for a body?”

  “In the drawers?”

  “Okay, stupid question. What about something that came in with a body? Drugs or money?”

  That got Corey’s attention and she cocked her head. “Seems plausible but anything like that usually gets snapped up by police long before the body ever gets to me. There have been things I’ve found on people, but again, the cops are the first phone call I make.”

  “Okay, something that wouldn’t have been suspicious or meaningful to anyone else?”

  “Sure, okay, but the only things I’ve even had all week are…” Corey trailed off and sat up.

  “What?” Thayer asked with wide eyes.

  “The stuff from Gordon Akers’s pockets.”

  Thayer frowned. “The guy from the construction site the other day?”

  “Yeah.” Her lips pursed. “I’m still holding onto a lighter and a multi-tool. It’s been locked up in the fireproof cabinet.”

  Thayer blew out a breath. “Seems like silly things to hurt someone over.”

  Corey pushed herself to her feet, her brain whirling, as she grabbed her phone off the kitchen counter and swiped it on. She searched for a few minutes before looking up, chewing on her lip in thought. “When is your shift over tomorrow?”

  “Eight in the morning,” Thayer answered, suspiciously. “But I’ll need to crash for a while after. Why?”

  “Do you want to go somewhere with me at six?” She raised her brows, hopefully. “It’ll be fun.”

  Thayer stood and crossed her arms like she sensed something was about to happen. “Okay,” she hesitated. “What’s the occasion?”

  “A funeral.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Thayer cracked up in full-throated laughter for several seconds before noticing Corey’s expectant expression. “You’re serious?”

  “Fun, right?”

  “Wow. You really know what a woman wants. Would we consider it a first date, then?” She laughed again. “Because that’s a story to tell the children.”