Dirt Nap

by Carolyn Elizabeth

  “Hmm,” Collier grunted.

  “More importantly, what are you thinking?”

  After a long moment he said, “I think it’s time to pay Edward’s widow and Robert’s mother a visit.”

  Corey didn’t comment, but based on the physical assessment, she couldn’t see how the body could be anyone but Robert Crandall at this point. Lil’s opinion, while not evidence, certainly supported that assumption. They pulled into the parking lot outside the anthropology building where Steph and Officer Warren were waiting for them. Collier made no move to get out of the car.

  “The asshole giving Doc a hard time—his name Gregory, by chance?” he asked, his gaze trained out the windshield.

  “Yeah, why? You know him?”

  “Of him. The department got word he was coming into town. There was talk of a joint security detail but he refused. Wouldn’t have involved me, but I overheard his name the other day in conjunction with a shit ton of unpaid parking violations. Thought nothing of it until a call was made to the brass and his slate was cleared. Spoiled pricks like him give me the shits.”

  “Yeah, that’s him.” Corey breathed a laugh. “I had his car towed yesterday morning from an accessible spot at the hospital.”

  Collier barked a laugh. “Good for you.”

  “Not when Thayer found out.”

  “You want me to step in? I’d be happy to have a word with him.”

  Corey was touched but smiled grimly. “Would you be happy being on the business end of a Thayer Reynolds dressing down?”

  “Not even remotely.” He paused. “But I would do it if you asked.”

  “Thank you, but on behalf of both of our lives I appreciatively decline.”

  “Thank Christ.”

  Corey joined them in the parking lot, interested to hear what their next moves were going to be.

  “How was lunch?” Steph asked.

  “Delicious,” Collier said. “And interesting.”

  Steph arched a brow in his direction but waited for him to explain.

  “You ready to go talk to Robert Crandall’s mother?” he asked.

  “Are you ready to ID him as the deceased to her?” Steph asked.

  “Not quite, but that’s the direction we’re heading. There’s been no activity on his cards for a week, no one has reported him missing, and no one has seen him. And we need to know more about Harold Crandall and find him, too, and she’s the only connection we have.”

  Kelly Warren asked, “What about me, Sarge?”

  “I want you to get me a list of unsolved crimes in the city with available but unmatched DNA evidence. Everything—assaults, arson, theft, whatever.”

  Corey fought a laugh as Officer Warren pulled out a little notebook like Collier’s and started scribbling. “Going back how far?”

  “Thirty years.” Officer Warren’s head jerked up and Steph looked at him with surprise. “And talk to Oneonta PD. That’s where the Crandalls’ permanent residence is. None of them show up as having a record except for traffic violations but I want to know more. Were they ever liked for anything? And see if you can get some departmental help in locating Harold. We don’t want to step on any toes. If they give you a hard time have them call me. Oh, and get me Robert and Harold Crandall’s prints. They’ve got to be on record somewhere.”

  Only Corey frowned at him with some semblance of understanding. “You’re thinking Robert Crandall has never been caught?”

  “One thing at a time, Curtis. But if what Lillian Thayer described about his behavior is true, animal cruelty is where it started, not where it ended. You have a job too. Let Dr. Marsh know I’ll be getting a warrant for medical and dental records for our most likely ID and she’ll have them by the end of the day. And find out how fast she can do a DNA analysis on the bones and what it will cost. I’ll work on getting the department to pay for it.”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much about that.” At Collier’s questioning look she explained. “If anything comes of the DNA analysis, there are probably a handful of grad students that could get a publication out of it. Someone’s grant money will foot the bill.” Corey offered him a mock salute and headed into the building.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Thayer shivered slightly as they stood in line outside the Old Bridge Coffee House. The days were still warm but once the sun set, they were reminded fall was just around the corner. She knew it would be hot inside with all the people they were packing in and she dressed in jeans and a sleeveless top. She was beginning to regret her insistence on waiting in line with everyone else instead of waving their VIP passes like others were doing to gain immediate entrance.

  She took her mind off the chill by reading the nearby sandwich board that explained fifty percent of the cover was going to the musician and the other fifty was going to the local SPCA. It was clear why Rachel’s business was so successful. She knew her audience. Thayer nudged Corey and pointed to the sign. “Check that out.”

  Corey peered around her to read it. “Oh, that’s crafty. Who doesn’t want to save the puppies? And she’ll make twice the door take in booze and food.”

  “Mmm.” Thayer ran her hands over her arms to warm them.

  “Here, babe.” Corey slipped off her sweatshirt and draped it over Thayer’s shoulders.

  Thayer didn’t bother trying to protest and pulled the hoodie around her. It was warm from Corey’s body and smelled like her soap. Corey, with the high metabolism of the extremely fit, was a walking heater. Thayer looked at the garish, colorful patterns across the black sleeves of the sweatshirt and smiled to herself at the memory it evoked.

  The first time Corey took Thayer to The Pitch Stop, an informal dyke sports bar, a pack of rowdy, gym-tan-laundry bros had come in. Why was anyone’s guess, either as a joke or because they were lost. They proceeded to get drunk, insult the servers, and offend the other patrons with their crude bigotry.

  Corey and Rachel had leaned across the bar, laughing maniacally, and switched every television in the bar from the live games to whatever talk show and soap opera rerun they could find. The other women caught on and the room grew quiet as they all found a table and pretended to watch the shows in earnest, going so far as to shush each other if someone spoke.

  The men protested loudly and profanely before throwing cash on their table and leaving to gales of laughter and cheers. Jan, the owner, bought a round for the house. It was hilarious and though they had been weeks away from saying the words, Thayer fell a little deeper in love with Corey at that moment. As a joke Thayer bought her a sweatshirt like the ones the men were wearing, but the joke ended up being on her when it became Corey’s new favorite article of clothing and she wore it everywhere.

  She leaned into Corey and slipped her arm around her waist, wanting to feel their bodies touching. Corey draped her arm across her shoulders and pulled her close.

  “Are you okay?” Corey asked.

  “Very,” Thayer sighed, her whole body warming at the contact. “I’m very happy and very much in love with you.”

  “Even after I ran my mouth to Lil about what happened with your coworker?”

  Corey had returned to the condo in plenty of time to make dinner for them. That meant cheeseburgers on the grill, salad from a bag, and tater tots from the freezer. She wasn’t much of a cook but her dedication to comfort food and token vegetables was appreciated. Thayer was always an enthusiastic eater, especially if she didn’t have to make it.

  They had talked over dinner. Watson Gregory had switched his shift out with another fourth-year resident, and for the next few days when she was off, Thayer wouldn’t even see him.

  The news of her conversation with him had spread like wildfire and she hadn’t failed to notice the appreciative nods from many of the female staff—some of the male ones too.

  Corey told her about her lunch date with Lil and Collier, and they had a good laugh about Lil’s teasing and flirting with him. Thayer remembered the day they were going to the movies when she was lit
tle but didn’t recall meeting Harold and Robert Crandall. She shuddered when Corey recounted her grandmother’s description of Robert, grateful she couldn’t remember.

  “Oh, come on.” Thayer looked up at her. “You really think Nana wouldn’t have wormed the situation at work out of me?”

  “Well, yeah, but it was your story to tell.”

  “It was yours too.” Thayer gave her waist a squeeze. “Anyway, she was probably more upset about me lashing out at you than she was about me being sexually harassed at work.” Thayer could feel Corey’s rumbling laugh through her chest.

  “With any luck she’ll make you apologize to me again.” Corey kissed Thayer’s temple. “Your makeup sex game is strong.”

  “Rivaled only by yours.” Thayer smacked her on the ass. “It’s too bad we get along so well. We could be doing it like that all the time.”

  They were both cracking up when they finally reached the front of the line and the smiling, dimpled Jude who was taking the cover and stamping hands for those over twenty-one. “You know you two didn’t actually have to wait in line,” he commented as Corey held out two twenties. “Or pay.”

  Corey grinned. “It’s for the puppies.”

  “Have fun ladies.” Jude took the money. “Your table is near the front window.”

  “Our table?” Corey arched a brow at Thayer as they finally entered the already crowded and warm room. There were at least a hundred people milling around and chatting in small groups with beer, wine, and snacks.

  The tables were full and Corey noticed the back where the ratty sofa and chairs usually lived had been converted to a small raised stage lit with floor spotlights. There was a stool, table, microphone and amplifier set up. A couple of guitars rested in their stands.

  “Corey, Thayer,” Jules called to them from near the window. “Over here.”

  “Our table.” Thayer pointed at the two high tops that had been pushed together and the handful of tall chairs. There was a bucket of ice and a bottle of wine and several beers already on the table, and nestled between them a hot pink sign marking the tables as reserved.

  Corey’s eyes widened at the star treatment Rachel had rolled out for them. She nodded to Dana and Jules who were talking animatedly and gesticulating with wineglasses wildly enough that she suspected they had been emptied and filled more than once already.

  “Want something?” she asked Thayer as her hand hovered over the table.

  “Wine, please.” Thayer had moved over to the other side to greet her friends while Corey poured her a glass and handed it across the table. “Thank you.”

  Corey returned her loving gaze, for a moment thinking seriously about leaving and taking Thayer back home for some more quality alone time. She took several long swallows of her beer and shook herself out of her libidinous thoughts.

  “Listen up, bitches.” Rachel’s voice boomed from the microphone as she took the stage. “For those of you who don’t know, I am Rachel Wiley and I’d like to welcome you all to our first charity and local artist concert series.”

  “You need a better name!” someone heckled jokingly from the crowd.

  “Yeah, no shit,” Rachel agreed. “You know what? Drop your suggestions off at the counter. Winner gets two VIP passes for September’s concert.”

  Corey’s eyes widened as the crowd cheered loudly and whistled. Rachel was full of surprises. Up until now, because Rachel had wanted to keep a low profile, Corey had never really seen her work.

  “Before we get started with the music, there are a few housekeeping things to get out of the way.” She trained her gaze to the front door and Corey looked where she was staring. Jude closed the door and made a slashing motion across his throat. “So, we have a full house tonight, which is fucking outstanding. In the event of an emergency there is the front door and…” she hooked a thumb behind her, “…another exit through the kitchen and storeroom in the back.”

  “Next, in case you missed it, all door proceeds will go to either the musician or the SPCA.” She paused for the clapping again. “Over by the counter there is a table set up where Cam will be selling CDs and other swag. If you like what you hear tonight, let her know by supporting her work. Also, there is a table with a couple of boxes. We are taking requests and suggestions for future artists to perform and also for charities you would like to see supported. So make your way over at some point tonight and let us know what you think.”

  “Finally, this is an all-ages show. Those of age may purchase wine and beer and I encourage you to do so. Those not of age, may fucking not. It’s as simple as that. If you get caught by me or my staff drinking underage or supplying drinks to someone underage, you will be summarily dismissed from my house with my boot in your ass and banned for life. For those of you over twenty-one, have a great time, but keep in mind this is not a sports bar so let’s keep it respectful and classy.” Rachel scanned the crowd until her eyes found Corey’s. “I’m looking at you, Corey.”

  Corey choked on her beer and looked around, panicked as people turned to stare at her, disapprovingly.

  “I’m just kidding, dude.” Rachel laughed. “All right, enough about me and you. Old Bridge is thrilled to introduce hometown gal, Cam Delmar. She’s got one album out and working on some new stuff and we’re very pleased she could join us tonight. So, let’s hear it for her.”

  Rachel stepped back from the microphone and Cam stepped out onto the stage. The lights dimmed while the crowd clapped and whistled. She was super cute with blond pixie hair and elfin features. She wore tight jeans and a plain white V-neck shirt, not at all what Corey expected given the powerful, throaty voice she had heard through the speakers the other day.

  “Thank you, Rachel,” Cam said as she took the stage. “Thank you guys for coming out tonight. Let’s get this party started.” She settled the guitar strap across her shoulders and grinned broadly.

  Rachel made her way over to the front of the shop, greeting people along the way as Cam Delmar rocked out. Her talent on the guitar was amazing, her voice strong, and she looked like she was having a blast as the crowd moved with the rhythm of her music.

  Rachel smiled at Corey. “Glad you could make it.”

  “You’re an asshole.” Corey tried to glower at her but couldn’t pull it off.

  “Yup.” Rachel gestured to her tinted glasses. “You don’t need those in here, do you?”

  “No.” Corey shrugged. “I just didn’t want to answer a lot of questions about my busted face.”

  “How is this busted any different from your usual busted?” Rachel gave her a gentle shove.

  Corey shook her head. “You know you’re really good at this.” She gestured vaguely around the room.

  “I know. Nice of you to notice.”

  “No, I just mean…” Corey struggled to put it into words. “…you know, I’ve never seen you be open and proud of your accomplishments. You always wanted to be in the background. Center stage is a good look for you.”

  Rachel smiled, eyes dancing. “Dude, are you hitting on me?”

  “Not until you look at me like that.” She nodded at Thayer, who was watching their conversation from across the room. Her eyes sparkled and she smiled seductively when Corey met her gaze.

  Rachel gave Thayer a wave. “Jesus, that woman is unearthly. Sometimes I can’t even look at her.” She turned back to Corey but her eyes were drawn to someone coming in through the door and her face sobered. “Uh-oh. I better see what’s up.”

  Corey followed her gaze and put a hand on her arm when she saw the uniformed officer. “She’s cool. That’s Collier’s new partner. I invited her.”

  “That’s Collier’s partner?” Rachel’s eyes widened. “Good on him.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Steph looked exhausted. Her uniform was far less crisp than that morning, her eyes less alert and her usually smooth bun was coming out in wisps around her face. “You’re not still on duty, are you?” Corey asked.

  “Yes and no,” Steph said.
“I have to put in a few hours over on campus in a bit so Collier can go over old cases with Warren. If I go home I’ll never get back out again, so I thought I’d stop by.”

  “Jesus, when do you sleep?”

  “I caught a nap in the car on the way back from Oneonta.”

  “That’s like an hour away, tops.”

  “Compliments of the house.” Rachel appeared with a large to-go cup of coffee and set a basket of sweeteners and creamers on the table within reach and a wax paper-wrapped sandwich. “It’s turkey.”

  Steph groaned. “God bless you.”

  “Steph Austin, this is Rachel Wiley, my best friend and owner of this dump.”

  “Nice to meet you, Rachel.” Steph extended her hand. “Congratulations on your ‘Best Of’ wins.”

  “Thank you.” Rachel shook her hand. “You read the article?”

  “Actually, Sergeant Collier mentioned it. Told me he knew you,” Steph explained and sipped her coffee. She smiled when Corey’s mouth gaped and Rachel’s eyes bulged from her head. “What?” Steph asked, looking between them.

  Corey laughed and hid behind a swallow of beer, eyeing Rachel merrily.

  Rachel shrugged. “Jim Collier walked in on me going down on his son back in college. That’s how we, ahem, met.”

  Steph blinked for a moment before throwing her head back in laughter. She laughed for a long time, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes.

  “I’m so sorry.” Steph gulped a breath and got herself back under control. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, Rachel, I promise.” She hiccupped. “I can imagine the look on his face, oh, my god.”

  “It’s cool,” Rachel agreed. “It was funny, then. It’s still funny. Imagine my surprise when it turns out Corey’s his work wife. Our paths cross occasionally as a result.”

  “I’m his what?” Corey spluttered, beer dribbling down her chin.