Corey’s eyes lit up. “You want kids?”
“Focus, woman.”
“Can I explain?”
Thayer gestured grandly. “Please do. I can’t wait.”
“Okay, but could you maybe wait for a minute or two? Maybe longer. You are so beautiful when you’re fiery. If you don’t kiss me I may go crazy.”
Thayer’s blood heated immediately at the thought. The same thought she had the moment she arrived. But Corey’s simple, heartfelt non sequitur and the desire clear in her eyes cut right to Thayer’s core. “Because you’re not crazy, already?” she teased, gaining a second to compose herself but unable to tear her eyes away from her.
Corey closed the distance between them, stopping just short of touching her. “Oh no, I definitely am.”
She was so close Thayer could feel her breath on her face, smell her soap and feel the warmth radiating from her body. “Is this a ploy to get me to agree?”
“No.” Corey inched closer, their lips brushing. “Is it working?”
“Yes.” Thayer sighed and closed her mouth over Corey’s, tentative at first, until she felt Corey’s hands slide around her waist and heard a soft moan of pleasure, from which one of them she was unsure.
Kissing Corey was knee-weakening and when she parted her lips, Corey took the lead, and Thayer knew for certain the next groan was from her. She slipped her hands up Corey’s strong arms and over her shoulders, partly to get closer and partly to steady herself as their kiss deepened, tongues coming out to play.
Their bodies molded together, breasts pressed against one another, as their heads jockeyed for position, breathing and heart rates accelerating rapidly as they toyed with and tested each other. Her body reacted dramatically, belly tightening and center dampening, when Corey’s hands slid up her back, her fingers threading through her hair, pinning her in place and devouring her mouth with passion.
Thayer let herself go for another moment before she got a hand between them and pushed against Corey’s chest. “Stop. Stop. Corey, stop,” she said, breathlessly.
Corey froze for an instant before she disentangled herself, backing away, quickly. “I’m sorry.” She looked stricken. “I’m sorry. I thought you wanted…I thought…oh, shit.”
“No. No. I did, I mean, I do. You thought right. That was, I mean, you are…oh, god.” Heat rose to her face as she trailed off, knowing she sounded ridiculous.
“What?” Corey whispered, her voice husky.
Thayer pulled away further and sat down in the armchair, the only place Corey wouldn’t be able to be near her. She pulled her thoughts together with effort. “I can’t do this with you—wait.” She held up a hand at Corey’s crushed expression. “Let me finish. I can’t do this with you unless I can stay, and I can’t stay tonight. I’m not here for a quickie, as amazing as that sounds. I want dinner and multiple orgasms and shower sex and morning sex and breakfast—in that order.”
Corey’s eyes bugged out of her head, her jaw dropping comically. “Sweet Jesus.”
Thayer sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. Her skin was sticky with arousal, but she had herself back under control. “Are you as wet as I am right, now?” She taunted Corey with hooded eyes.
Corey smiled slyly and lowered herself back onto the sofa. “Come over here and find out.”
Thayer laughed. “Touché.”
“You are setting the bar very high. Like bodice-ripping, romance-novel high.”
“Too high?”
Corey regarded her for a moment. “No.”
Somehow that simple look and one small word said with confidence sent Thayer into a tailspin again and her desire flared. “Tell me about the funeral,” she blurted.
“Sure.” Corey cleared her throat. “All right, I know this is going to sound totally nuts, and I don’t have it sorted out in my head, but just hear me out.”
“I’m listening.”
“Gordon Akers’s death was recorded as accidental from a fall of five stories down an airshaft at the construction site where he worked. Dr. Webster signed the death certificate based on my post or part of it. When I documented the skull fractures, I noticed a depressed linear fracture, also known as a signature fracture, inconsistent with the multiple stellate and comminuted fractures from his head cracking open like an egg when he hit bottom. There was also a curvilinear laceration in the skin corresponding to one end of the fracture.” Corey paused to make sure Thayer was following.
“You think he bounced off something on the way down?”
“I did, yes,” Corey agreed. “Cin and I went out to the construction site to—”
“You did what?”
“It was fine.” Corey waved her off. “The site was closed and we wanted to see the airshaft for ourselves and see if we could get a picture that explained the fracture.”
“And?”
“And we didn’t find anything.” Corey shrugged. “Nothing to explain the injury.”
“And?” Thayer wasn’t sure where this was going.
“Let me back up a little. It was assumed that he was hanging over the airshaft to smoke after everyone left. There was a lighter and crushed pack of cigarettes at the bottom of the shaft with him. A lot of the guys smoked, and he had been a smoker. But he was wearing both a nicotine patch and had nicotine gum wrappers in his pocket when I saw him.”
Thayer considered this but wasn’t clear on the mystery. “Have you ever had to quit smoking?”
“I have, actually,” Corey admitted. “This body has been far from a temple.”
“So, you know how hard it is.”
“Yeah, I know,” Corey conceded. “I get that. But what if it’s not his lighter?”
“So he borrowed it.”
She huffed a breath. “No. What if it wasn’t an accident? What if he was killed first, then dropped down the airshaft to cover up a murder, one easily explained by smoking in the airshaft? Except he wasn’t smoking, so whoever did it had to toss his smokes and lighter in with the body?”
Thayer stared at her, trying to wrap her head around everything Corey was telling her. Part of her wanted to laugh it off and the other wanted to be supportive. She opted for the latter. “And he came looking for his lighter yesterday because that links him to Gordon Akers’s death?”
Corey held out her hands. “Is it any more crazy than some random guy walking by and smacking me with a brick?” Corey jerked. “A brick. Where did the brick come from?”
“A construction site?” Thayer offered, unsure whether she should be excited or afraid since that made a certain kind of sense. “Did you run any of this by Jim?”
“No. I mean, it only just occurred to me. The smoking thing bothered me, and I told him about the inconsistent fracture, but he was only going to look at the case again if Dr. Webster initiated something and he didn’t.”
“And Jim was okay with you going to the site?” Thayer eyed her.
“He doesn’t know about that part,” Corey confessed sheepishly.
“So, why go to his funeral?”
“To return his lighter.”
Thayer considered all this information. “You’re counting on someone knowing if it’s his lighter or not.”
“Exactly.”
“And if it’s not?”
“I’ll bug Collier again about it.”
“Okay, but again, what if he just borrowed someone’s lighter? And if he was trying to quit, he may not have been carrying one.”
Corey frowned. “I don’t know. But trying to quit or not, who carries a pack of smokes but needs to borrow a lighter?”
“Someone who lost their lighter? Someone whose lighter ran out of fuel?”
“Gah.” Corey threw up her hands. “Do you want to come with me tomorrow or not?”
Thayer grinned. “I do.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Will you relax, please?” Thayer covered Corey’s hand that was tapping out an incessant beat on the gearshift. “What are you so worried about?”
“Of course, it’s weird. And probably violates half a dozen privacy laws. And it was your idea, remember?”
“Right.” Corey started tapping again. “Its just crowds of strangers make me a little uncomfortable. No one goes into my line of work because they are a people person, you know?”
Thayer pursed her lips. “Is that your way of asking me to do the talking?”
“Yes. People are drawn to you. You’re charming and beautiful and you’re sexy as hell.”
“Oh, I get it. The truth comes out. You objectify me and only want me for my body.”
“What?” Corey looked at her. “That’s crazy talk. I only want you for your money and your lake house.”
Thayer laughed and ran her hand up Corey’s thigh. “You look sexy as hell, by the way.” She inched her hand a little higher.
“Thanks,” Corey yelped and jerked the wheel. She had stared at her closet so long she felt like she was going on a date. She finally decided black jeans would not look out of place at the house of a construction foreman and a midnight blue button-down would be respectful and comfortable.
Her gaze flicked to Thayer, looking gorgeous in charcoal dress pants and a dark green blouse. “You look great too.”
They pulled onto the street in the blue-collar end of town, pickup trucks lining both sides as far as the eye could see.
“And I was worried we’d stand out,” Corey mused.
They slowly cruised past the house, a well maintained but older two-story, clusters of men standing on the front porch and across the front lawn smoking and drinking canned beer.
Thayer glanced down at her clothes. “I’m afraid that may still be the case.”
They were fortunate someone was pulling out halfway down the block and Corey easily pulled into the giant spot left behind a truck twice the size of hers. “Ready?”
“Let’s do it.”
Corey pulled the two items she had fetched from the morgue that morning, still in plastic bags, from the center console.
The humid summer air was so heavy with smoke, she tried to hold her breath as they made their way up the path to the front porch. All eyes were on Thayer with a few glances flicked Corey’s way as they walked past. Corey tensed but fortunately they had enough respect not to catcall at a memorial service. She nearly laughed, though, when she saw a young guy gearing up to whistle before he got an elbow to his ribs from his buddy. Thayer, for her part, was as cool as usual, even smiling casually at a couple men gaping at her.
Before Corey had a chance to knock the door was flung open by a woman about her age who glared past them at the men. “Those clowns didn’t give you any trouble did they?” She was blond, tiny, and very pregnant.
“Perfect gentlemen all of them,” Thayer said loudly enough for the ones on the porch to hear, causing some good-natured laughter and conversation to resume.
“I’m Shelby Akers.” She extended her hand with a smile. “Gordon Jr.’s wife.”
“Corey Curtis.” Corey met her grasp, impressed with her grip.
“Thayer Reynolds.” She shook her hand. “We’re very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Shelby’s lips pressed together thinly. “It’s been real hard on everyone.” Her gaze flicked over their shoulders again. “You ladies better come inside, or those fools will never leave.” She led them into the worn but well-appointed home, which was also filled with friends and family drinking and snacking around a buffet table. “So, how did you know Gord?”
As promised Thayer took the lead. “We didn’t really, and I hope we’re not intruding, but we’re from the hospital and we have a couple of personal items that were left there that we wish to return to his family.”
“Oh?” Shelby looked surprised. “I had thought the police brought everything after, um, you know.”
Corey decided she wasn’t going to let Thayer do all the work. “They were discovered later in his pockets. Is his wife around? We can give them to her.”
Shelby looked sad at the mention of her. “Gloria’s gone upstairs to lie down. This has all been really overwhelming. Gord was going to retire soon. They were real smart with their money and had plans to travel and do all these bucket list things while they were still young, you know?”
“I’m sorry,” was all Corey could think to say.
“Let me go find JR and Dave.” She turned away and immediately spun back. “Please, help yourself to a drink. I may be a minute.”
Corey jumped when Thayer’s fingers laced through hers and squeezed. “See, it is a date.” She winked. “Can I buy you a beer?” She released Corey’s hand and moved to the table in front of them with ice-filled buckets of beer.
Corey wanted to make a joke but she wanted a drink more. “God, yes.”
Thayer popped open two Bud Lights and handed one to her, taking a sip and smacking her lips. “Ahhh.”
Corey hid her smile behind her beer and took several long swallows. “Best Bud ever,” she agreed, grateful there was no one within earshot but still aware of the attention Thayer attracted. Just about everyone was casting glances her way except for a big guy in jeans and a plaid shirt who was heading fast through the front door. Corey caught the whiff of stale smoke behind him and figured he was heading out for a fix. It occurred to her that she would have to get used to the staring just as Thayer clearly had. She would have to examine that more another time.
After a few minutes Shelby wended back through the milling mourners trailed by two men of similar age who were clearly brothers, and who, if Corey squinted, resembled what she imagined Gordon Akers may have looked like.
“JR, Dave, this is Corey and Thayer from the hospital.” She gestured to each of them.
Hands were shaken and pleasantries and condolences exchanged.
“She says you have something of my dad’s?” the elder brother, JR, asked.
Corey dug in her pocket for the tool. “This was in his pocket when I saw him.” She kept it vague as to where and when.
Dave snatched it out of her hand. “No way.” He removed it from the plastic. “Remember this, JR?” he gushed enthusiastically.
His older brother stared at the tool, his lips thinning. “Yeah.” His voice was thick with emotion.
“We saved up and bought this for our dad nearly twenty years ago.” He handled the tool reverently. “I had no idea he still had it, never mind carried it on him.” As soon as the words left his mouth he realized what he had said and tears sprang to his eyes.
Dave coughed and cleared his throat as he flipped the tool around. “We couldn’t afford to get it engraved so we took a screw and scratched our initials in.” He showed Corey the illegible scratch marks on one side.
Her heart clenched. “It must have been very important to him to be carrying it around after all these years.” She felt Thayer reach for her hand again and give it a squeeze.
“Yeah,” Dave whispered not taking his eyes off it. “Thanks for bringing it.”
“Sure.” Corey cleared her throat and dug in her other pocket. “I have this too.” She produced the bag with the lighter.
JR frowned at it. “That’s not his.”
“It was with him,” Corey explained.
JR took the bag but didn’t remove the lighter. He studied it through the plastic. “It’s not his,” he said again. “Dad quit smoking five months ago when we told him we were expecting his first grandchild.” He pulled Shelby in close and placed a protective hand on her abdomen. “He was doing really well with the quitting. He wanted to set a good example.” His voice broke at the end.
Dave took the bag with the lighter and examined it. “Yeah, it’s not his.” He gave a little laugh. “Even when he was smoking, he always used those disposable plastic ones because he could open his beers with them too. Those things were always scattered all over the house with chewed up ends from bottle caps.�
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“I know whose it is.” Shelby took the bag and flipped it around in her hand. “Gord’s crew has been stopping by and visiting all week, bringing over casseroles their wives made and such. A few days ago a pack of them showed up and one guy was asking if the police had found anything with Gord or had given Gloria anything. He was kind of twitchy about it and said Gord had borrowed his lighter, but it was really important to him and his initials were engraved on it.”
Corey struggled to contain her excitement and she could feel Thayer’s eyes on her. “May I?” She reached for it again and held it up to the light. She was absolutely not taking it out of the bag now. On the bottom she could just make out a faint M.G. Or it could have been an O. “Do you remember his name?”
Shelby shrugged. “Mark maybe? Or Mike? I’m sorry there were so many of them, and honestly, all those guys kind of look the same to me.” She glanced around the room. “I think he was here today, but I don’t see him now. Maybe he’s outside.”
“Borrowed it, huh?” Thayer commented, eyeing Corey from the side.
“That’s what he said.”
“Confiscated, more like,” JR added. “He was a stickler about the guys not smoking on the site. There was an area set up for them on the ground for lunch breaks and stuff. And, like I said, he quit. We were all real proud of him.”
“I’ll hang on to it then and see if I can get it back to him.” Corey jammed it back into her pocket before anyone had a chance to disagree with her. “Thanks so much for taking the time to speak with us.”
“We’re very sorry about your father.” Thayer smiled gently at them. “From the number of people here he was obviously dearly loved.”
“Thank you.” Dave grinned at her and shook her hand. “If yours was the last face dad saw I’m sure he died a happy man.”
“Jesus, Davey,” JR hissed.
Thayer laughed.
Chapter Twenty
Corey stood in the front of the house, nearly cleared out now, watching half a dozen trucks pull away when Thayer caught up with her.
“Hey. You took off fast.”
“Sorry. I wanted to see if I could find out who he is.” She caught movement at the side of the house as a young guy was coming around the side, a beer in each hand. He was apparently here for the free booze.
Gallows Humor Page 11