by Rowe, Julie
“Hello,” Kini called out again. “Anyone here?” Someone had to be looking after the child, right?
The little girl pointed toward the hallway to the left of the kitchen. “Gampa.”
No sound or movement from down that hall.
“Stay here, okay?” Kini said to the girl.
The child nodded, but didn’t stop gobbling up the yogurt.
Kini moved down the hallway. “Hello,” she said as she walked, going slow so she didn’t surprise anyone. “My name is Kini Kerek, I’m a public health nurse.”
No response.
The first door she reached led to a bathroom.
The next room felt larger, the door open halfway. She knocked and said, “Hello?”
There was no answer, so she pushed the door open, bracing herself for anything. The room was empty.
She released a pent-up breath. Stop scaring yourself, stupid.
There was one more room to check, then she would search the rest of the house. Someone had to be here looking after the child.
She knocked on the last door and called out a hello just in case, but it was empty, too.
“Ki,” said a voice behind her. “Hungy. Num num?”
“Well, your mother has good taste in snack food,” Kini said to her new best friend. “Why not. More num num.”
“Yay!” the child ran into the kitchen and waited by the fridge, jumping up and down and waving her arms like it was game day.
Kini got her another yogurt, opened it, and left her little friend to enjoy her snack. Around the corner opposite the hallway was a living room with the requisite big screen TV, a couple of gaming consoles, and a laptop computer sitting on the coffee table.
The coffee table was also covered in pop cans, dirty plates, and two empty pizza boxes. All the evidence of teenagers without the actual teens.
Where was everyone?
She continued searching, but found no one. Finally, she went back to the kitchen and spied another door hidden behind a coat rack. It was narrower than all the others, probably a closet, but she opened it anyway.
Stairs leading down into darkness. A basement.
She looked around. There had to be a light switch somewhere. She eventually found it, a string hanging above her head. One yank had the light on.
She looked down the stairs. Steep.
She paid attention to where her feet were going rather than examining the rest of the space. That was probably why she didn’t see the body until she reached the dirt floor.
Chapter Eight
A man lay, face down, on the floor. His arms were by his sides and his legs were straight, as if he stopped suddenly and pitched forward rather than fell down the stairs. No injury, wound, or blood was evident.
The scent of earth predominated, but Kini could detect a trace of decomposition in the still air. Only a trace. He hadn’t been dead long.
Long enough for the toddler upstairs to get hungry. If Kini hadn’t come to investigate when she did… Nope, not going to think about the what-ifs when they haven’t happened.
She pulled out her cell phone and tried to dial Smoke but nothing happened. Damn it, no signal down here.
The patter of little feet. “Ki?”
“Stay right there,” she told the child. “I’m coming.”
At the top of the stairs, the little girl waited with sticky hands and a sad face. “Gampa?”
Kini told the first lie she thought of. “He’s sleeping.” She picked up the child despite the food on her clothes, carried her into the kitchen, and plopped her on a chair. “I’m going to make you something to eat.”
The child clapped her hands and said, “Hungy!”
As she looked in the fridge, Kini tried calling Smoke’s phone again.
He picked after one ring. “Smoke.”
“Hi, it’s me.” There wasn’t much in the fridge. She closed it and opened the nearest cupboard. “Can you come to my location?”
“Trouble?”
“I found a toddler all by herself, and…” She grabbed an open box of crackers and shook it. Bingo. “There’s a dead body in the basement.”
After a moment’s hesitation he said, “Stay put.” The call went dead.
Kini found a can of vegetable soup and held it out to her restaurant-for-one customer, who smiled and clapped her hands.
She put her phone away and began searching for a pot.
…
Smoke strode out of the house, got on his bike, and roared down the road back to the highway. He’d managed to say thank you to the wife of the deceased patient for talking to him. He hoped that would be enough of the niceties. Unexpected dead bodies went to the top of his priority list.
Kini hadn’t sounded too freaked out. In fact, she’d sounded distracted, but he’d take that over…okay, so Kini wasn’t the hysterics kind of woman. Hell, all she’d done the morning after waking up in bed with him was tell him to mind his own business.
That didn’t make it any easier to hang on to his patience as he tore up the road toward the house she’d gone to alone.
He knew that place. Same family had owned it for years. A friend of his father’s, with a daughter who’d had kids young. She was in the hospital now, a respirator keeping her alive. Who’d be at the home? Her kids were, fuck, one of them was in his teens by now. The other was a lot younger, a girl.
He reached the highway and was able to put on more speed until he hit the turnoff. He didn’t slow down much, even after he hit the gravel.
Dead bodies were never good.
He pulled up out front of the house, and Kini was coming out of the door before he’d gotten off his bike. With a baby on her hip.
He thought of her, large with child, and a wave of need washed over him. Damn.
“Smoke.” She rushed toward him then came to an awkward halt before she could reach him. She glanced at the baby, as if just realizing she was carrying the little girl.
Kini’s hands were busy, but Smoke’s weren’t. He reached out and touched her shoulder and that of the child’s. “You two okay?”
“Who dat?” the little girl asked, pointing a finger at Smoke.
“Smoke,” he said, gesturing at himself with his whole hand. “Kini.” He did the same to Kini, then he extended his hand toward the little girl.
“Bity,” she said with a wide, toothy smile.
He remembered now. “Brittany.”
She clapped and laughed.
“Call the police yet?”
“No, I’ve had my hands full.”
“Anyone else around?”
“Not that I can see. I knocked and called out before entering the house. Brittany came straight to me asking for something to eat.” The expression on her face was sad and concerned. “She was very hungry.”
“Call 911. I’m going to look around, make sure no one else is taking a dirt nap.”
“What killed him isn’t obvious,” she said. “It might not have anything to do with the hantavirus.”
“Eyes open,” he said with a nod.
It was harder to walk away from her and the baby than it should have been. She could look after herself and a toddler for a few minutes. The body was dead.
Aside from an assortment of tools, a couple of bicycles, and junk, the garage was empty. Behind the house were a couple of sheds. No one was in either. His body went on alert as the sound of a vehicle engine, but no sirens, became audible.
Smoke walked back to the house and checked the back door. Locked. Good. One less way for someone to get in. The vehicle engine died as he strode around the house. A visitor or someone he didn’t know come home?
“Who the fuck are you?” a young masculine voice yelled.
Smoke’s heart rate and breathing skittered, jittered, and jumped like it never had in combat. He broke into a sprint.
“I’m a nurse,” Kini’s voice was high with concern, or was it fright? He pushed for more speed. “My name is Kini—”
“I don’t give a fuck
who you are, put my sister down.”
Smoke rounded the corner. He couldn’t see Kini. Two young men stood between him and her and one of them was struggling with something. Someone. Kini. One of the boys was trying to take the baby forcibly from her.
“A nurse?” the kid grappling with her said, his voice a snarl. “Are you the one everyone is saying brought that sickness to town? The sickness that’s killing my mom?”
“No, I’m trying to figure out what’s made your mother sick.”
The teen pulled the baby away from Kini and stepped back. The little girl began to cry and extended her hands toward Kini. The other kid stepped forward, his body posture aggressive and hostile.
“No,” Smoke said in a bark he’d learned during basic training years ago. It was an order and a threat, and the two teens turned almost as one to meet it.
“Who the fuck are you?” the mouthy one asked, putting the little girl down and taking a step toward him with his hands clenched into fists.
The baby made a beeline for Kini, who picked her up.
“Smoke.” He stopped a few feet away, keeping his shoulders deliberately relaxed while balancing on his feet, ready to repel an attack.
Or initiate one.
Both kids frowned. “You related to Nate?”
“Cousin.”
The two boys separated, moving farther apart, their steps slow and measured. “Never seen you around.”
They were trying to flank him. He almost smiled. “Army.”
They halted as both their jaws dropped. “You’re the guy who’s some kind of Navy SEAL?”
Smoke shook his head.
“Didn’t think so,” the mouthy kid on his left said.
“SEALs are in and out,” Smoke said. “Special Forces go in and stay there. Scouting, teaching, supporting.” He waited a second for that info to soak in then angled his head at Kini. “She’s not a threat.”
They looked over their shoulders at her.
“Is she with you?”
“Yes.” He examined the sniffling little girl. “You made your sister cry.”
The boy sneered. “She’ll get over it.”
They slid toward him like a pair of hunting cats, certain of their prowess and success.
He could take them easily. They thought they knew how to fight but had no concept of the extent of his training. “Did you do it together?”
“Do what?” mouthy asked.
“Kill the dead man inside the house.”
They stopped cold. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Mouthy snarled.
“There’s a body in the basement,” Kini said. “An older man. He looks like he had a…”
Both boys dove toward the door.
Kini, with the baby in her arms, flattened against the wall, letting them pass. “…heart attack.”
As soon as they were out of sight, Smoke signaled her to come to him with the little girl. “Police?”
“On their way.”
Male howling erupted from inside the house. A few seconds later, both boys threw themselves out the door, murder in their eyes.
“You killed my grandfather!” Mouthy shouted at Kini.
“No,” she said in a tone that allowed for no argument. “I found him at the bottom of the stairs. I didn’t touch him.”
Sirens wailed in the distance.
The teens heard them, too. They looked at each other then launched themselves at Kini and Smoke.
Smoke swept between them, pushing both off-balance and into each other.
Kini ran for the house.
The boys saw her go and untangled themselves enough to follow. Smoke kicked the feet out from under one and upended the other with a Judo throw.
He heard the door slam and focused on the two little shits. The sirens were close now, and their wail seemed to enrage the boys. They dove at him, one going for his legs, Mouthy for his face.
He blocked the punch while shifting his weight so the other one didn’t knock him off his feet. The kid wrapped his arms around Smoke’s knees and held tight. He threw his weight to one side and Smoke allowed himself to go with the pull of gravity, rolling free.
Mouthy was waiting with a malicious smile and a fist.
“No you don’t!” Kini’s yell was close. Too close.
Before the teen could turn to locate her, a sneakered foot came up from behind between his legs and landed a solid hit to his balls.
He dropped like stone, clutching his groin.
Smoke wrestled the other one into a headlock just as a police car and an ambulance rolled up.
Two cops spilled out of the car, their guns drawn, and pointed right at him.
“Hands up!” one yelled.
“Let him go, sir,” the other ordered. “Let him go now.”
Smoke released the kid, held his hands up, then backed away a few steps.
“I’m a nurse with the CDC,” Kini said. “The gentleman with his hands up is Lyle Smoke, who also works for the CDC.”
“They murdered my grandfather,” Mouthy said, wheezing.
“No.” Kini’s voice was a whip. “I came to get medical histories and blood samples from the family members of three patients at the hospital suspected of having Hantavirus Pulmonary Syndrome.”
“We heard a rumor that the CDC was doing something in the area.” His tone was skeptical, suspicious, and sarcastic.
“Don’t tell me,” Kini said, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “You stopped at the post office today.”
The cop rocked back. “How did you know?”
“They’ve been telling a lot of people that. One man sicced his dogs on me and another tried to punch me in the face.” She put her hands on her hips. “The CDC is not conducting any experiments or making people sick. We’re attempting to research immune statistics in this region for the hantavirus.”
Smoke, the cops, and even the teenagers looked completely confused.
“We’re exploring the possibility of creating a vaccine.”
“So, you have nothing to do with the dead body inside the house?” the lead cop asked.
“Other than discovering his body, no. The only person who was in the house when I got here was my little friend.” Kini pointed at the baby. “Which brings me to you two.” Kini pointed at the two boys, her voice vibrating with rage. “Where were you? The child was alone with the deceased for a long time. Hours.”
Chapter Nine
“We were in town,” the boy on his feet said. “Aren’t you going to arrest her? She kicked Matt in the balls.”
Sniveling bullies. She’d like to smash the other one’s balls, too. “You both attacked Smoke. Two on one isn’t fair.”
“Kini,” Smoke said, his voice full of censure.
One of the emergency responders approached. “Can we go inside now? If there’s a dead body and not a live patient, you don’t need us, you need the coroner. We need to know for sure.”
“We have to clear the house first,” one of the cops said.
“I’ll call for backup,” the other said and headed to his car.
The first cop looked at Smoke. “On your knees, hands behind your back.”
As soon as he complied the officer put his gun away, pulled out a set of handcuffs, and approached Smoke.
What? They couldn’t do that. Confusion tossed her into a shallow, cold pool she had to fight herself to get free of. She and Smoke had a job to do.
She glanced at the teens. They were both grinning. “I don’t understand. What’s happening?”
Smoke glanced at her. “We’re getting arrested.”
“But—”
“All of us.”
She looked at the two teenagers.
Their grins were gone. They looked from the policeman in the car to the one putting the handcuffs on Smoke and bolted. The two boys sprinted past the house and out into the scrubby bush and untamed land beyond it.
The officer with Smoke finished putting the handcuffs on him then followed the boys at a jog. A
jog? This has to be a joke.
But the other officer stood outside their cruiser, his hand on his weapon, watching Smoke like he was an escaped felon.
Smoke kept his head down and didn’t move.
The other cop came back a few seconds later.
“They’re long gone,” he told his partner.
“Shit.”
“Guess they’re not pressing charges.”
Kini crossed her arms over her chest. “We ar—”
Smoke interrupted her. “Aren’t.”
“Hold your horses, lady,” the first cop said. “There’s still a dead body to deal with.”
“That’s got nothing to do with him,” she said, gesturing at Smoke.
“Kini,” Smoke growled the warning again.
She ignored him. “He never saw the body. He didn’t even go into the house.”
The two cops looked at each other then at Smoke. The first one shrugged while the second one nodded.
He came over and took the handcuffs off Smoke and said, “For what it’s worth, you have my condolences.”
“Yeah.” Smoke sighed.
The officer approached her. “Turn around ma’am, and put your hands behind your back.”
“You’re arresting me?”
“Ma’am,” he said again, an overabundance of patience in his voice. “Turn around.”
“But—”
The baby started to wail and ran over to cling to Kini’s legs. She looked down at the little girl as the officer handcuffed her. “So,” she asked the three men. “Which one of you is going to look after the baby?”
Smoke strolled over, crouched down, and opened his arms.
The baby looked at him, her bottom lip quivering. “Ki?!”
“I’ll take care of Kini, too,” he promised her.
She scooted over and he picked her up, cradling her against his wide shoulder.
The officer who cuffed her waited with Smoke, the baby, the EMTs, and her while the other went into the house. He came out after a minute.
“Clear. The body is in the basement.”
The two EMTs went in with the cop and came back out a couple minutes later. “Call the coroner,” one of them said.
“How long has he been dead?”
“We don’t do time of death, that’s the coroner’s job, but the body is cold to the touch.”