by Jen Talty
Doug ran his fingers across the wooden railing on the front porch. The design wasn’t unique, but Doug saw things other architects and builders couldn’t see, because he was always on site long before construction ever took place. He saw every nook and cranny of a piece of land. The property spoke to him, and it guided his designs. Jim saw his natural ability and nourished it.
“Doug?” a familiar male voice shouted from around the side of the house.
“On the front porch.” Doug checked his watch: only 9:30. Jim should have been at the other site, making sure the final touches went as planned. Often, the last few items were left unnoticed, and that could cause problems with the customer down the road. “What brings you here so early?”
“Thought you might like a friendly face around,” Jim said as he rounded the corner, taking each step up on the porch slowly, admiring the work, then nodding in approval.
“How’s the other site?”
“We’ll wrap that up inside of a week.”
“That’s good.” Doug wiped away the sweat that had dripped down the side of his face. This heat wave was getting to be a bit much. He much preferred to do this type of work when it was fifty or sixty outside, not eighty and humid.
“Did you see the text from Jillian about identifying Mary?”
“Yes,” Doug said. “Stacey’s going to try to meet us there.”
“You talked to her this morning?” Jim reached into the small cooler near the porch steps, pulled out two waters, handed one to Doug, and then sat down on the steps. “She was gone before I got up this morning. She left me a note saying she had some things to do before going into work.”
Doug knew there was never going to be a right time to do this. He also knew if he waited, it would be worse for everyone involved. There were very few things he kept from Jim. This shouldn’t be one of those things. “She stopped by here this morning. Went over some things with Reese.”
“She respects him. The P.I. he sent over seems good. He really drilled us last night.”
“It seems to me that having this big team, doing all these things before there is even a warrant for my arrest”—Doug paused, taking a long swig of the ice-cold water—“just makes me look guilty.”
“Nobody but the cops know you have a lawyer, and Stacey said these P.I.s work discreetly. I wouldn’t worry about that.”
“Reese said the same thing.” Doug left out the part about Gregory and his hatred of women in uniform, though Jim was a smart man, and Doug was sure he already knew. “But Reese also told me to prepare for the absolute worst, as in being arrested.”
“I think Reese and Stacey’s minds are just wired that way.”
Doug fiddled with the paper label, slowly peeling it off the water bottle. He had no idea where to start, or even what to say. He and Stacey had been friends for years. Good friends. But that had changed in a way that could change his friendship with Jim. “Stacey and I—”
“I know.” Jim stared at his feet, rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger.
“If it weren’t for Mary’s death, the only thing I’d be worried about was how you felt about all this. But I guess some rumors have been rolling around about me and Stacey.”
“I’ve heard them.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Jim glanced up. His right brow arched. “Because they weren’t true, and it wasn’t the right time. Besides, I saw this coming and figured it would happen on its own, when the time was right.”
Doug’s pulse sped up. “What do you mean?” Seemed everyone he knew was tuned into something brewing between him and Stacey, except him and Stacey.
“Hard to explain. Sometimes, especially when she was in college and home visiting, I’d see the two of you sitting and talking, and I’d get this feeling there was something besides friendship there.”
“There was nothing going on back then. It’s just been in the last month or so.”
“I know,” Jim said. “When I saw that kiss, I figured I’d have a little fun teasing you both. Especially my daughter, but then with Mary’s death—well, I figured you needed some space. And I worried she wasn’t quite over her anger toward Todd.”
“She’s been over that weasel for a while,” Doug said. “That kiss was the first time I told her I’d been having different feelings for her.”
Jim chugged his water. “Get to the point.”
Doug thought back to the year right before he’d met Mary. He and Stacey would sit outside and talk for hours about everything. It had always been so easy to talk to her, but the feelings he had back then were nothing like what he had now. “I really care about her. I mean, I always have. But it’s different now. I want to be with her.”
“I know,” Jim said. “You’re a good man. Not sure I’ll ever think anyone is good enough for my baby girl, but I think I can cope with you dating my daughter.”
“Dating?”
“Yeah, dating. Like pick her up at the door with flowers and shit. Kiss her on the cheek when you drop her off.”
“You’re busting my ass, right?”
Jim laughed. “A little. But she’s still my little girl. I don’t care if she’s a grown woman. I don’t care that you’re the best man I’ve ever met. And frankly, if it weren’t for what’s going on right now, I’d probably be just fine with it. I do know how all this can affect our lives.”
Doug nodded. “Whatever is going on with Stacey and I right now is private. We need time to understand the changes, and with this big cloud over our heads, I think it’s best that no one knows there is anything between us. I just felt you needed to know just how much she means to me.”
“I appreciate that,” Jim said. “Just take it slow.”
“As soon as all this is over, I’ll go about this dating thing, as you call it, in way that you can respect. I don’t want this to affect our business. Our friendship.” Doug held out his hand, remembering the first time Jim had extended his: the same day he bought Doug food and gave him a job. It sealed their fate. Perhaps this would, too.
Jim took his hand then gripped tightly. A little too tight, but he looked Doug in the eye. “You’ve been my best friend since you were sixteen. I don’t think that sounds any weirder than you having a relationship with my daughter. The rest of the world might think differently, but I don’t. Just don’t hurt her.”
Doug released Jim’s hand then did something they rarely did. They were both proud men, but the moment it felt right, so Doug gave Jim a hug.
“Knock that shit off,” Jim said. “We’ve got to head to the morgue.”
“I’m so not looking forward to that.”
“It will be good for you,” Jim said. “Bring closure. That way, you can start thinking about your future.”
* * *
Doug had bad memories of hospitals. To say he avoided them was an understatement. When his parents had first abandoned him, Child Protective Services brought him to the hospital to be cleaned up, have a full physical, and lots of shots. He’d never been so scared in his life. His last experience had been when Mary lost the baby. That was just unpleasant and depressing.
However, nothing could have prepared him for the cold, isolated hallway that led to the morgue. The formaldehyde so pungent he could taste it. The florescent lights beamed brightly from above, occasionally fading in and out with a loud buzzing noise. Jim walked beside him as they followed a nice enough receptionist, who ushered him into a waiting room. As the door clicked shut, an image metal doors closing formed in his mind.
He looked around the room. Gregory leaned against the wall. The clicking of the doors rattled in Doug’s brain. He took in a slow breath, trying ignore the sensation of being caged.
He smiled when he saw Stacey. She stood at the other side of the room with Jared. Doug’s lawyer, Jillian, was on the other side of the room, tapping away on her phone.
Doug’s muscles twitched and his skin vibrated. He worried his hands were shaking. He was there to identify his wife’s
body, but it seemed like the waiting room to hell.
He watched Stacey greet her father with a hug and kiss. Jim accepted her choice in careers, but he was always a little awkward when she was in uniform. She nodded at Doug, whispered a hello, but kept her distance. He wasn’t sure why, but thought it had to something with the detective smirking in the corner. It was hard to be near her in a place like this and not touch her. He wanted to pull her into his arms. Never before had he wanted to share everything about himself, good and bad, with another person.
Stacey went back to her corner, and Doug sat down with Jillian. The space between them sent a dull ache throughout his body.
“How you holding up?” Jillian asked.
“I’ve been better.” The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. “I don’t know if I can do this. I thought I wanted to, but I’m worried it’s how I will remember her.”
A strong hand squeezed Doug’s shoulder. Having Jim there was a comfort, but Jim wouldn’t be in that room. He had vision of them zipping down a body bag and exposing Mary’s naked body, all cut up from the autopsy.
“Most find it therapeutic,” Jillian said. “We be in and out of that room in less than five minutes, if you want. Or we can linger if you need some time with her. You’ll know when you get in there, but trust me when I say the hard part is going to come next. Gregory has some questions for us, and by the look on his face, I’m not going to like the direction.”
“Why does he have to do that now?” Jim asked.
“It’s actually pretty typical. But could also mean he’s uncovered something else.”
“Doesn’t he have to give that to you or something?” Doug asked.
“They aren’t obligated to tell me anything unless they get a warrant for your arrest, and they don’t have that, so this is just to rattle you.”
“It’s working.”
“We’re ready.” A man wearing scrubs and a lab coat entered the waiting area.
Doug swallowed the bile in his throat as he followed the man in the scrubs into what appeared to be an examination room. He glanced toward Stacey, who smiled weakly. He let out a small breath and continued toward the cold room. Jillian and Gregory followed right behind him.
In the center of the room stood a steel table holding a body covered with a white sheet. He looked beyond the body. Steel drawers covered the back wall. Large lamps dangled from the ceiling. The room was bright, but it felt cold and dark. He tried to take in a deep breath, but the air was so thick with death he feared he might hyperventilate. He stood at the side of the table, his hands shaking violently at his sides.
The man in the scrubs looked at Doug, then gently pulled the white sheet back, revealing Mary’s bruised face. Her skin was pale and her hair pushed back under her head. Eyes closed. The smell of formaldehyde mixed with cleaning products gave him a pounding headache.
“Is that your wife?” Gregory asked.
Doug nodded as he stared down at Mary’s lifeless body, terrified of what her last few minutes on this planet had been like. He tried to look away, but couldn’t. He may not have loved her, but she was still flesh and blood. He wondered if he could have done something differently. Anything that would have prevented Mary from being murdered.
The man in the scrubs covered Mary’s face. Doug walked out of the cold room. He wanted to put his fist through a wall. He wanted to be able to move on with his life, but he knew he couldn’t until Mary’s killer was brought to justice.
“Not much emotion in there,” Gregory said as he stepped back out into the lobby. “Then again, a murderer—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Doug turned on his heels then took two steps toward Gregory, his fist balled and arm cocked, but Jared grabbed his arm. “You should be out there looking for whoever did this to her instead of judging me. You don’t know me. You didn’t know my wife.”
“Trust me,” Gregory said. “We intend on putting whoever did this behind bars.” He turned to glance at Stacey. “And whoever helped him.”
“Then why are you standing here with me?” Doug’s fists still balled tightly. Jim still had a death grip on Doug’s arm.
“Because I need you to provide a hair sample and a DNA swab.”
“You’re going to need a warrant for that,” Jillian said.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Doug went for a chair, and was about to toss it against the wall when suddenly, it wouldn’t move. He looked over his shoulder and saw Stacey gripping the other end.
“Not going to help.” She glared at him. “This is exactly what he wants. Don’t give it to him.”
Gregory tossed up his hands. “I’m just trying to get some answers from all of you.” He waggled his finger at Stacey.
“If you got questions, ask them. Otherwise, your presence here is no longer necessary,” Jillian said.
“Oh, I’ve got questions.”
Doug leaned against the wall, Jillian on one side and Jim on the other. “What is it you want to know?” He held his temper in check when he really wanted to clock the asshole.
“Your wife was beaten. Strangled—”
“Questions, not rhetoric,” Stacey said, moving closer to Gregory. Jared pulled her back, but Stacey shrugged his hand off her arm.
“If he didn’t do it, I would think he’d want to know the details about how his wife died,” Gregory said.
Gregory’s tone was flippant, but he was right. Doug did want the details. “How did she die?” He forced an even tone.
“Your wife’s toxicology report came back. Do you know if she took Xanax or Valium? Anything that would make her drowsy or easily overpowered?”
An odd choice of words. “I haven’t lived with her for months. For the last year, she kept an apartment in Albany and stayed there most of the time. I wouldn’t know if she was on anything.”
“What about when you did live together?” Gregory asked.
“Not that I know of.” It seemed easier not to fight Gregory and just answer the man’s questions. The sooner he did, the sooner he’d get the hell out of this dark and death-filled room.
“We pulled some evidence from Bill’s house last night,” Gregory said. “We do need a DNA swab. It would look better if you just gave it without a fuss.”
“Not going to happen,” Jillian said. “Get a warrant, and my client will comply.”
Stacey leaned against the wall, arms crossed, with Jared next her, looking as though he were ready to stop her from going after Gregory. Jim stood on the other side of Stacey, contemplating like he would do the same thing.
“Anything else?” Jillian asked.
“Not at this moment,” Gregory said. “I’ll be in touch.”
Doug watched Gregory make his way down the hallway, hands his pockets, as if he were on a Sunday walk at the beach. The man whistled while he waited for the elevator. A long silence filled the air until the elevator doors closed.
“That man is a fucking douchebag,” Stacey said.
“Watch your mouth, young lady.” It was a standard “Jim” response, meant as reprimand, but it lightened the mood, considering the young lady was sporting a gun.
Jared chuckled. “He’s got a stick up his ass, and he can’t stand that Stacey was here. Thinks she’s going to screw up his case.”
“Told ya,” Stacey said. “Dou…Asshole.”
“He does have a point about his concerns with Stacey,” Jillian said, “but we can use that to our advantage, if we have to.”
“I just want to be around when she’s around Gregory,” Jared said, indicating Stacey.
“I kept my cool today.”
“You did,” Jared said. “It’s just smart on our part to have a buffer between you and that guy. He knows your hot button, and he’ll push it.”
“Can you tell me what they have?” Jillian asked.
Jared shook his head. “You know I can’t. Besides, he essentially told you, and since he didn’t come here with a warrant for the DNA, he doesn’t have shit, yet.”<
br />
“Yet?” Doug looked up at Jared. He’d known Jared for almost as long as he’d know Jim. “That sounds like you think I’m going to be arrested.”
“Not what I meant.”
“But something we have to plan for.” Jillian stood up. “I think it’s best if we wait until tomorrow to talk. I think Doug needs some time to deal with today. Perhaps we can resume tomorrow evening?”
“We can meet at my place,” Jim said.
“I’m good with that,” Jillian said.
“I’ve got to get out of here.” Doug made a beeline to the elevator, along with everyone else.
The ride in the elevator was silent, and the walk through the hospital as well. The moment Doug opened the doors to the parking lot; he took in a long breath. Fresh air. Air that felt alive. Free. The sun beat down his face. A few puffy white clouds floated effortlessly across the blue sky.
“Why don’t I get you home?” Jim said. “I’ll go back to the site. I think you need a break.”
“Can I have a minute with Doug, please?” Stacey asked.
“Sure,” Jim said.
Doug leaned against Jim’s pickup. The side of the truck proudly displayed the company logo and name: Sutten and Tanner Construction. Jim and Jared aimlessly walked the parking lot, talking and looking over their shoulders.
“That detective really thinks I’m guilty,” Doug said.
Stacey nodded. “He’s a dick.”
Doug let out a sarcastic chuckle. “A dick who thinks I’m guilty.”
“My dad’s right. You need a break.”
“I know.” His head pounded so deep it rattled his toes. His mind fractured between the Mary’s face and doors closing, locking him in a place he’d never be able to leave. “I’m just going to go home. Watch television. Do nothing. I’m not even sure I could eat.”
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” There hadn’t been a time that Doug couldn’t eat. If food were around, he was nibbling on it. Death changed people.