by Linda Wisdom
“I’d rather have four weeks’ worth of sleep instead of a stronger caffeine buzz, but I don’t think that will be possible just now.” Gail poured herself a cup and dropped into a chair. She reached down to slip off her high heels. She winced as she flexed and pointed her toes. “I’m surprised more hookers aren’t cripples, wearing torture devices like these instruments they call shoes.” She held up her shoes, the deadly looking three-inch spike heels pointed upward. “Give me Reebok any day.”
“We were brought up to believe that wearing them made our legs look sexier. They wear them because it makes their legs look sexier. Naturally, it’s men who spout all that nasty propaganda.” Lauren refilled her coffee cup. “So what’s the problem that’s going to make me rant and rave and scream?”
“Your victim is missing.”
Her smile froze. “That’s funny. I thought you said the victim is missing. Since I’d pronounced him dead, I can’t imagine a medical miracle where he got up and walked away.”
Gail looked chagrined at having to repeat her bad news. “I did just say that, and no, he didn’t decide to come back from the dead.”
Lauren sipped her coffee in the hope that her fourth cup of high-test caffeine would allow her brain to function at a normal rate. She could already feel the buzz traveling through her veins. She figured she’d be bouncing off the ceiling by noon. “No offense, Gail, but why are you the one bringing me that lovely piece of news?”
“Because it’s my case, and because I figured if you decided to throw a tantrum, you’d prefer to throw it in front of another woman instead of one of those macho ingrates who would just start spouting crap about what can you expect when women suffer from PMS and all.”
Lauren played with a strand of her hair that came loose from her French braid. “Yes, men can be scum, can’t they? So before I start yelling and screaming about the lost body, although I don’t know why I should bother since it means one less post to worry about, why don’t you give me an idea where he might be?”
By now, Gail just looked disgusted. “I wish I knew. Paul and Kirk left the scene around the same time you did and they haven’t been heard from. I talked to your lovely diner. I swear, Lauren, he reminds me of Peter Lorre.” She wrinkled her nose as she mentioned the clerk in charge of the morgue. “But he hasn’t heard from them, either. I swear, things always go nuts when the moon is full.”
“It usually does bring out the crazies,” Lauren agreed, settling back in her chair. “You can stop worrying. I’m not going to lose my temper and I’m not going to worry about it. I’m too tired to worry much about anything.” She stifled a yawn.
“Driving down to San Diego and back in one day can be pretty tiring. I’m surprised you wouldn’t want to stay the night and come home in the morning.”
Lauren looked at her sharply for a second, but there was nothing in Gail’s expression to indicate she was being sarcastic. At least she now knew that her cover story had gotten out and seemed to be accepted. And it showed just how quick the grapevine was. “I was able to miss most of the traffic by driving back after the rush hour, so it wasn’t too bad. The trouble is, I got to bed real late and ended up with barely a couple hours of sleep.”
“For someone who only had a little sleep, you look pretty good to me.” Gail grimaced as she raked her fingers through her hair. “I’m afraid to look in the mirror for fear of scaring myself and breaking the glass. What’s your secret for looking human?”
“A couple of tricks I learned when I was an intern. One of the nurses I worked with had a sister who’s an actress. One, you wash your face with icy water.” She laughed at Gail’s horrified expression. “Second, you use a pearl-colored moisturizing base under the foundation. At least, no matter how tired you are inside, you don’t look it.” She grabbed the phone and punched out a number. “This is Dr. Hunter. Do me a favor and put out an APB for Kirk, Paul, and one passenger.” She paused. “Yes, I know it’s a full moon. Yes, I know things always go weird this time of the month and a missing coroner’s wagon kind of goes at the bottom of a long list. So let me put it this way: if you don’t want me to sprout fangs and go looking for fresh blood, namely yours, you’ll track them down and tell them to get back here right away. Otherwise, I’ll have to come up there and pick someone out to take the victim’s place for the first morning post. And remember, I don’t carry anesthesia down here.” She slammed the phone down. “Don’t tell me. Harvey never minded if they took their time getting back on a slow night.”
Gail shrugged. “He did tend to go a little easy on them.”
“Then they’re going to find out the hard way that I’m not Harvey.” Lauren hit the save key for her file.
“I think they’re already getting that idea.” Gail stifled a yawn. “Do you know Mitzi Roberts?”
Lauren thought for a moment and shook her head. “The name doesn’t ring a bell, but I’m still meeting people around here.”
“She works as a clerk in the public defender’s office,” the policewoman explained. “She went through a bad marriage with an abusive husband and finally got up the courage to divorce him about a year ago. She would have had a lot of problems with that if it hadn’t been for Josh helping her out.”
Lauren’s interest was instantly caught, but she silently warned herself to be cautious. “I’ve heard he’s heavily involved in those issues. I think that’s very admirable.”
“He’s involved because he grew up watching his father abusing his mother and he’s always regretted not being able to help her.”
Another question answered. Lauren wondered what other private details Gail knew about Josh and why she was bothered by the idea when she’d told Josh just hours ago that she didn’t need a man in her life. She idly picked at a chip on her desk’s surface.
“Why are you telling me about Mitzi?”
“There are rumors that she’s seriously hoping about making him her son’s stepfather. Not only that, but she pretty much assumed Josh would have gone along with it if you hadn’t come along and dazzled him.”
For just a brief moment, the phone message came back to Lauren. She made a mental note to seek out the woman and find a way to listen to her voice to find out if it would sound familiar.
She shook her head, laughing as if she found the idea incredible. “People love to make unbelievable assumptions around here, don’t they? He took me out to dinner because he lost a bet and I made him pay up.”
Gail leaned over, surprise written all over her face. “Really? You have no interest in one of the hottest guys we’ve had here in a long time?”
Lauren nodded. “Is gossip so rare around here that if somebody sees us out together they automatically assume something hot and heavy?”
“It has been quiet lately,” she agreed. “And while you can’t consider Josh a womanizer per se, he does make sure not to be with one woman for too long, so they can’t get any ideas. Although we all thought for a while that Carol Lawson, who worked for a marketing research firm, was going to be the one to change his mind. Now she’s seeing one of the executives in her company. I guess she didn’t like Josh having to break dates at the last minute.” Gail plucked at a hole in her black fishnet hosiery. “I am going to be so glad I won’t have to wear these things any longer. I can’t understand why they were so popular to wear back in the late sixties. I always feel as if I have some disfiguring rash on my legs.” She laughed, then suddenly said, “I heard you’re divorced.”
“Nowadays, who isn’t?”
Gail looked up. “You were married to a cop, weren’t you?”
Lauren nodded warily, wondering where the questioning was going.
“Drugs, alcohol, other women, or abuse?”
It took a moment for Lauren to realize Gail was asking the reason behind the divorce. “None of the above. We discovered that we functioned better without each other than as a couple,” she said.
“No affairs on either side?” Gail winced. “Sorry, I guess questioning about thing
s that are really not my business is a habit.”
“I’m not embarrassed. I just don’t feel the need to talk about a dead issue. As far as I’m concerned, it’s over and there’s no need to rehash old history.” She smiled to take the sting out of her words.
“Sorry about sounding nosy. As I said, I guess it’s part of my nature.”
“No offense taken.” Lauren started when the phone rang. “Dr. Hunter.” She listened to the caller, rolled her eyes, then gave Gail a thumbs-up. “Kirk and Paul just showed up. They said something about taking a detour that turned out to be a dead end and they got lost. Not the best excuse in the world since the van has GPS.” She stood up. “I think I’d better make sure they didn’t pick up a new passenger along the way.”
“Think I’ll have time for some sleep before you post the guy?” Gail asked.
“Sure. There’s a cot in the supply room just off Sophie’s office you can use,” Lauren offered. “I’ll wake you up when I’m ready.”
“Thanks, I’ll take you up on that.” Gail suddenly grinned. “Just do me a favor and remember I’m only sleeping and not one of your guests, so to speak.”
Lauren smiled. “I’ll try.”
“Hey, Lauren?” Gail turned around with her arms uplifted to her hair. “Some people think you’re a cold fish because of that ‘touch me not’ attitude you like to put out. I don’t think you’re so bad.”
Lauren smiled. “Old habits die hard. Forensic pathologists aren’t too popular because in a lot of instances, our word is considered law. After a while, you get used to being the bad guy to a lot of lawyers, and sometimes, even the cops. Go take your nap. Use the shower if you’d like. I keep toiletries in there for when I have to be here for an extended time.” With a quick wave of the hand, she was gone.
…
Gail looked around the office, noting the difference from when Harvey had been in charge. The file cabinets weren’t bursting with scattered papers. Files were piled neatly in the “out” and “in” trays; everywhere she looked she found papers, file folders, reports, all in order. Even her computer and accompanying tablet were dust free.
“I bet she drives Sophie absolutely nuts.”
…
“Whoever stabbed him wanted to make sure he was dead,” Lauren announced, pulling off her latex gloves and tossing them away. Pete remained next to the corpse, stitching up the Y-shaped incision. “There were twenty-seven wounds, twenty of them deep, which I would say means the person either had a lot of strength or a lot of anger. The knife had a serrated edge, and some of the wounds are spaced so closely together that his stomach came out looking like a piece of raw hamburger, so it was difficult to gauge the last time he’d eaten or even what he’d eaten There were also shallow cuts on his hands, as if he’d tried to defend himself, and a deeper cut on his left palm, as if he’d tried to take the knife away from the killer. No skin under his nails, so he wasn’t able to fight back, but I did find a few fibers I’ll send over to the lab, along with blood samples. Although I have a hunch the only blood on him was his own.”
Gail scribbled her notes. “Could a woman have done this?”
“Sure, and she wouldn’t have to be a bodybuilder to accomplish it, either. I’d say the knife used was razor sharp because these are all clean cuts.” She pressed the heels of her hands against her spine and bowed her back to relieve the muscle strain from bending over for an extended length of time. “I guess someone with his history has more than his share of enemies.”
Gail nodded. The expression she directed toward the autopsy table was filled with disgust. “His share of enemies could have us digging for the next twenty years. Personally, I don’t know why we don’t give the person a medal for giving us one less piece of slime to worry about. I fought like crazy to get into Homicide, and wouldn’t you know I’d end up with this for my first case?” She indicated her clothing. “I’m just glad I can finally get out of these things. I only went down there last night dressed like ‘one of the girls’ to get some information. Instead, I trip over him.”
“Well, thanks for the business,” Lauren teased. She glanced up at the clock and groaned at the hour. “I’m going to change and get some breakfast. Want to join me?”
Gail shook her head. “I’ve got to get back to the station and write up my report. Then I’m going home and burning these clothes. From now on, I intend to start wearing something a little more appropriate. Thanks for the info.” She waved her notebook.
“Anytime.”
Gail paused before she left. “Maybe you and I could have dinner sometime?”
Lauren’s face lit up. “I’d like that.”
“I’ll see what my schedule will be like in the next week or so.”
“Cozy with cops, cozy with DAs,” Pete muttered from where he’d just finished his task.
Lauren spun around. “You have anything to say, Pete?”
He looked up, his ferret face gleaming with sweat under the harsh lights. “Coroners have to be objective.”
“Yes, they do,” she agreed. “And they also have to learn how to separate their professional lives from their personal ones so they can have a life at all.”
“Like you do with Josh Brandon?”
Lauren guessed it took weariness combined with the early morning hour for Pete to speak so openly.
She leaned against the stainless steel sink with her hands braced behind her. “So?”
“I should have been the one to take over here. Harvey promised me I’d get the job when he retired.” He spoke with open hostility for the first time. “My qualifications are a hell of a lot better than yours. All you have are more fancy degrees than I do. They only took you because they wanted a forensic specialist.” He spat out the words.
“Did he ever put his promise in writing for you? Did he say he submitted his recommendation?”
He was startled that she hadn’t ripped right into him for opening his big mouth. A saner voice told him she could probably write him up, although there were no witnesses to what he said.
She stared at the floor for several moments before lifting her head. “Pete, when you put your mind to it, you are an excellent second-in-command, but sometimes even experience doesn’t hold enough weight. According to past performance reports, you refused to show any interest in the forensics side of pathology. That is badly needed here, and you have trouble dealing with crime scenes, especially the nasty ones. I threw up more times than I could count when I first went out to crime scenes. All you can do is pray your stomach will soon get the message. Start planning to attend some of the forensics seminars. Be willing to do more than your share. I had to do that and then some. At least you don’t have to worry about ‘women shouldn’t be doing these kind of things’ speeches from the good old boys.”
“Why are you being so helpful about all this?”
She exhaled a puff of air. “Because I figure if you want something bad enough you’ll be willing to work for it. There’s no guarantee I’ll be staying here for the next twenty or thirty years. And there’s no guarantee you’d want to stay if you could get in somewhere else. I’m just saying if you’re willing to try, I’ll do what I can.”
Pete looked undecided as if he was unsure she was speaking the truth, but didn’t want to ruin what could be a good thing, either. “I’ll think about it.”
Lauren nodded and left, grateful he hadn’t been sullen about it. And wishing her day was already over.
…
“Come on, Josh, hear me out,” the public defender begged, dropping into the seat across from Josh as he ate lunch. “Ricky Barlow is willing to plead guilty to holding and give us the name of his dealer as a bonus.”
He wasn’t having any of it. He looked at his hamburger. “Larry, this is the second time Ricky’s been picked up for dealing. This time he was selling to an eight-year-old. Forget it. I want him locked up for as long as possible.”
The PD stared hungrily at Josh’s fries. “Get real, Josh, he won’t e
ven be in there that long and we both know it.”
“Not if we get Sawyer, who’s a real hard-nose with druggies. He believes in stressing rehab along with jail time.” Josh dipped a French fry in ketchup and popped it in his mouth. “Look, Larry, I know you’re as backed up as I am, but this is one I’m not willing to deal on. That kid walked too many times when he was a minor because his mother was in here crying a tale how she needed him at home and the social worker giving her sob story on how he needed to be out to take care of his mother and brothers and sisters since their dad had walked out on them eight years ago. All he’s managed to do is turn his fifteen-year-old sister into a hooker and his twelve-year-old brother into a delivery boy. He’s got an attitude I want to see cut down.”
“Terrific, he’ll be in there getting an advanced degree in dealing and picking up new contacts for when he gets out. Yeah, a great way to keep the streets clean,” Larry muttered, stuffing the file back in his briefcase and pulling out another one. “Okay, how about Ruiz? You handling him?”
Josh shook his head. “Sylvia is.”
Larry almost buried his head inside his briefcase. “All right, what about—”
“Larry.”
The public defender looked up, his expression almost glassy-eyed, so he didn’t catch the grim reality in Josh’s eyes.
“Larry, I am eating lunch here,” Josh said slowly and distinctly. All slight trace of his slow drawl was gone as his eyes bored into the younger man’s. “And for once, I’d like to enjoy my meal without a damn PD dropping in trying to cut a deal for another perp. I’m tired of popping Tums every chance I get, guzzling Maalox in between, and wondering if I’m going to end up with an ulcer. It’s bad enough that I’m dealing with you guys who can’t even keep your clients straight. Sawyer almost had a shit fit last week when Watson came running in five minutes late with a file for a different prisoner than the one he was defending. You want to deal, see me in my office, and if you dare interrupt my lunch again in hopes of cutting a deal, I’ll make your life a living hell. Got it?”