A Simple Lie

by Mary Bush

  Gavin tossed the pictures aside and picked up the glass, swallowing hard what was left. A small amount of wine dribbled down the side. He set it down just as his wife walked in. She looked at him and then the glass, disgust radiating from her face.

  “Put something under that, or you’ll damage the desk,” Melody Gavin snapped. She rushed over to him, lifted the glass, and stared at the ring on the wood. “Damn it, why can’t you be more careful? Jesus Christ, this is ruined now!”

  Melody grabbed the closest thing, which was Gavin’s notepad, seeming to not care if anything important was written on it. She placed the glass on top of the center of the pad, covering a portion of what he had written. “This was my grandfather’s desk. It’s been in my family for over a hundred years and it only takes you one evening to destroy it.”

  “He did give it to me,” Gavin said calmly. Melody’s hair had fallen over her eyes. He reached up gently and pushed it back from her face. She swatted his hand.

  He stood up, taking her wrist softly, and pulled her into him. Melody struggled, jerking away, but Gavin held on and drew her close to him. He lowered his lips to hers, kissing her deeply. For a second he felt her respond, her hands gripping him. Wanting him.

  “You’re beautiful when you’re angry.” He smiled and kissed her neck. “You like being angry with me, don’t you?” He ran his fingers through her hair.

  Suddenly her hands were on his shoulders, pushing him away. “Mitch! Stop it,” Melody yelled. “You’re tangling my hair.”

  “Forget about the hair.” He ran his hand through again, purposely messing it. “It looks wild now. Let me see if I can drive you wild.” He leaned into her, kissing her again, merely brushing her lips this time.

  She shoved him, hard. “I said to stop it!”

  He stood back from her. “I’m not even sure I remember the last time you let me touch you,” he snapped. He was ready to say more but stopped.

  Melody said nothing. For the first time she looked as if she was going to confess what Gavin suspected to be true. But she just simply walked out.

  9

  Val sat on the floor next to the dead woman, inspecting the emaciated body. She wasn’t surprised this life was cut short. This person had obviously been a drug addict. As she glanced around at the room, she couldn’t help but notice how poorly the victim lived—cheap, grimy furniture, threadbare, stained rugs—all of her money must have gone to support the habit; well almost all. There was a fifty-inch TV mounted on the wall.

  A little more than two weeks had passed since Val had become a death investigator. Each time she examined a dead body, she surprised herself with how much she knew and was happy to be learning quickly. Today she was on her own and would be from now on. Her training wheels had been removed and Howie would no longer be at her side.

  “So, what do you think?” Officer Perez asked.

  One thing Val noted quickly: new death scene, new officer in charge. At the rate she was going, she’d get to know the whole force soon.

  The deceased female lay on the living room carpet. Her lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling. Val thought for several minutes, evaluating the woman, carefully estimating time and preliminary cause of death. There was a slight amount of lividity starting on her back. Body temperature was about ninety-six. Rigor was just becoming apparent in the small muscles of the face. The rest of the body was still pliable.

  “She probably died about two hours ago,” she replied, confident of her answer. There was nothing to indicate the decedent had been dead any longer than that. She looked at the woman’s arm then sat back from the body. All signs pointed to an overdose. Open, empty bottles of the prescription opioid pain narcotic Percocet were all over the apartment. She counted the bottles she’d noticed. There were at least five. Val reached out and turned the arm upwards, taking another look at the telltale sign of more than just prescription drug abuse.

  On the inner surface of the arm was a small hole that resembled an injection site. It was a little raised, pinkish red and very recent. Val wondered where the heroin was because she hadn’t seen any in the house. Nor could she find any needles. She glanced over at the victim’s boyfriend who was being questioned by another police officer.

  Val’s attention returned to the body. Her preliminary account listed cause of death as overdose, this was obvious, but for some reason, the neck just didn’t look right. It appeared swollen. So did the lips, and the skin seemed a little blotchy. She pulled the dead woman’s mouth open and looked inside. The tongue was swollen too. She wasn’t entirely sure if the edema was a consequence of how this woman died. It could just be a normal finding.

  After several minutes Val decided to release the body for transport to the medical examiner’s office so Dr. Blythe could figure it out. She had taken her part of the job as far as she could go. Only an autopsy could determine the rest. She stood up and addressed Officer Perez. “She’s ready to go.”

  “Do you think it’s drug related?” he asked.

  “That won’t be confirmed until the autopsy’s done, but I think we can safely say yes.” Val gestured to the victim’s boyfriend. “Did he mention any other drugs she was taking?”

  “He’s not sure what she had today. He went out to shoot pool with a friend and when he returned, he found her dead. He says she wasn’t an addict. Her pain pills were for a bad back.”

  “Not an addict, my ass.” Val picked up two of the empty pill containers and read the date the prescriptions were filled. “Both of these were picked up just days ago. There should have been enough pills in each of these bottles to last for a couple of weeks not a couple of days. Did you find any other drugs in the house? Anything you would use a needle with?” Val asked, hoping the cops had found something she hadn’t.

  “Nope.”

  She pointed to the injection hole. “There has to be something more.”

  The officer just shrugged and nodded towards the boyfriend. “These people know how to get rid of the right things when the cops show up. Prescription meds won’t get him into trouble: they’re legit. That’s why the bottles are all still here. But heroin would. Those drugs are usually missing along with the needles. We see it all the time.”

  Val couldn’t help but feel she was missing something. “If it’s okay I’m going to take one more look around,” she said. “I’ll be able to mention that I did so in my report.”

  “Be my guest.”

  In the bedroom, Val noticed two of the dresser drawers were slightly open and eyed them suspiciously. She opened each, quickly glancing through, moving clothing out of the way; feeling around, searching for any drugs. The first drawer had nothing but underwear and socks. The next, jeans and T-shirts. In the bottom drawer her hand hit something hard. Her fingers traced the rectangular outline. She pushed pajamas out of the way to see what the object was and noticed the vinyl cover. It was just a photo album. Val pulled it out anyway and flipped through the pages, making sure nothing was hidden in there, like the drugs she was searching for. She had heard how people cut out sections from books to hide objects. Why not use a photo album to stash some heroin.

  This one was intact. The photos were old and appeared to be from the 1980s, probably from the victim’s childhood. She shut the drawers, confident that if there were any drugs in the house, they were long gone by now. As she stepped out of the bedroom Val stopped and stared, shocked. Detective Gavin was standing right in front of her.

  Her face felt flushed and her heart picked up a few beats. She addressed him quickly. “What brings you here? Homicide isn’t keeping you busy enough? Are you handling vice too?” Though she hadn’t seen him since that night at the Anchor Bar she had to admit that she had a hard time keeping him off her mind.

  Gavin laughed. “I’m a jack of all trades.”

  Val didn’t have a chance to respond. Officer Perez emerged from the living room and called Gavin over. She followed them as they walked back to the dead woman.

  “Possible cause of death?�
�� Gavin asked Val.

  “Looks like an overdose. Can be either oral or intravenous. We won’t know until the autopsy’s done.”

  Gavin said a few words to the officer and then pulled out his phone. Val overheard him talking to Warren, telling him to get there as soon as possible, and then saying, “What the hell is going on?”

  Val was confused. Why was Gavin so interested in this victim? She glanced at her report to get the name of the deceased.

  It read: Samantha Ritcher.

  10

  “Well, gentlemen, the remains from the Lockland Landfill are those of Francine Donohue,” Julia announced. “Both the arm and the skull belong to her. We had the DNA double-checked. That’s why it took so long.”

  Gavin couldn’t believe it. How could this be? Warren raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. Blythe just had his arms crossed. The body parts sat on a small table in the private autopsy suite in the morgue. The fact that both pieces came from the same victim, and were discovered so quickly after her teeth were found, put this case in a different light.

  Things were escalating.

  “Did you roll her fingerprints? We’ll need them to compare to the unknowns in her apartment,” Gavin asked.

  “Not yet,” Julia answered.

  “Do you think we’ll get anything from these?” Warren asked. He pointed to the dried leathery fingers. They were shrunken and curled toward the palm as if trying to make a fist.

  “We just have to soak them in warm water for a little while then inject saline in the fingertips and they’ll be fine,” Julia said.

  “Why is the arm and skull so different?” Warren said.

  “The skull was stripped of its tissue but not baked this time. The arm was though. He left the skin on the arm and then must have put it in an oven at a low temperature to get it to mummify like this. This time he cooked the arm but not the skull,” Blythe said.

  “Phil, slow down. You know this whole baking thing is speculation,” Julia said.

  “Only if you have no clue on how pathology works,” he responded sharply.

  Julia rolled her eyes and Gavin sensed a smoldering battle between these two. Jesus, he wished Julia was in charge of this case. Gavin glanced to his right at the lifeless body of Samantha Ritcher who lay not more than twenty feet from what remained of her sister. The Y-incision on Samantha wasn’t closed yet and the skin gaped, exposing a body cavity devoid of organs. Those were placed on a specimen table awaiting tissue samples.

  “When is the autopsy on Samantha Ritcher going to be finished?” Gavin asked. Though Samantha was a drug addict and there should be no surprise to see her on a steel slab at such an early age, he couldn’t ignore the bizarre coincidence that she was sharing occupancy at the county morgue with her murdered sister.

  Blythe said, “I’ve completed her autopsy. I’m just waiting for the preliminary lab reports before I decide if additional tissue samples are needed or not. Cause and manner of death will be ruled after that.”

  “I want you to call me as soon as it’s done,” Gavin said.

  “I’ll do that but she can’t possibly be connected to your case,” Blythe replied confidently. “This is completely different from the other two. I have no doubt the manner of death will be accidental.”

  Gavin tried hard to control his mounting irritation. It was so like Blythe to be headstrong like this. So into his own preconceived theories and so unwilling to let them go that he screws up, makes wrong conclusions. Blythe had caused problems with several other cases, though they were Blythe’s errors, it was Gavin who was made to look incompetent. He was in no hurry to go down that route again. This case was far too important to make even the slightest mistake with. “We can’t afford to make any hasty claims. This case is far too high profile for that. Any wrong moves and we’re all going to face a firing squad,” Gavin said.

  Blythe’s face reddened angrily after hasty claims and Gavin knew he’d stepped over a line. He didn’t care though. As far as he was concerned the circumstances surrounding these remains only complicated things. It didn’t simplify them. “I don’t want to rule anything out. And you shouldn’t either, Phil.” Gavin tried to maintain his composure, but his nerves were raw. “Samantha Ritcher is lying dead in the morgue at the same time as her sister. Ask yourself why.”

  “She hadn’t spoken with her sister in what, almost twenty years from what I’ve heard.” Blythe laughed. “What you’re suggesting, given the scientific facts of death in front of me, is absurd. And it’s my neck on the line if I suggest otherwise. No one helped this woman die but herself. Oh, and let me remind you, Mitch, that it’s your job to figure out why on any case. Not mine. If you can’t do your job, well then don’t place blame on my doorstep.”

  Gavin felt as if he was ready to explode at that last remark but as Val walked into the room, everyone stopped talking.

  11

  Val quickly scanned the room, trying to tell what was going on. She immediately sensed she had walked in on an intense private conversation, especially for Gavin.

  “I’m sorry, I thought you were working alone in here, Julia. I have the report you asked for. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Val addressed Julia timidly, holding out the folder.

  “Oh yes, thank you.” Julia took the folder and stated with finality, “We’re pretty much done in here.”

  Gavin looked at Val, and she realized she had been staring at him. She quickly averted her gaze.

  He walked over to Val, his eyes still on her. “I’m going to need your report on Samantha Ritcher.” His tone was direct and urgent. She noticed that Dr. Blythe had turned his back to everyone in the room, now looking through paperwork that sat on the counter.

  “I’ll get that to you ASAP.” She searched for more words to say, but didn’t find any. Though she tried to smother her attraction, she couldn’t help what she was feeling. It was there, the sweaty palms, uneasy attitude, and an inability to sound intelligent when speaking. No matter how much she told herself she wasn’t attracted to Gavin, that wasn’t the case. What she needed to do now was just get over it.

  “Thanks,” Gavin said, lingering for a second, but as Warren walked past him and over to the door, he followed.

  As the group disassembled, Val was about to leave too when Julia asked, “Could you stay and assist me with something? That’s if you have nothing more pressing to do.”

  “Nothing that can’t be finished later. I’d love to stay,” Val said, thrilled. The only person Julia ever allowed to assist her usually was Howie.

  Julia led her out of the private autopsy suite to the main morgue area and walked over to a gurney that held an elderly man who had been in a fire. She slipped on a pair of latex gloves and began examining the body externally. Val looked around. It was just the two of them in the morgue. She wasn’t surprised. The autopsies were all done first thing in the morning, and no other late cases had come in.

  “How has everything been working out? I’m so sorry that I haven’t been able to spend more time with you.” Julia talked as she worked, inspecting the burned skin of the old man.

  “I understand. It’s been crazy around here.” Val had to look away. The man’s legs resembled hot dogs that had been left on the grill too long. The charred skin had split to reveal pink underneath. The barbecue scent was sickeningly sweet. Meat would definitely be off her menu for the foreseeable future.

  “Crazy doesn’t even begin to describe it. We’re all on edge right now. Sometimes I don’t know how Phil handles it all.”

  “Dr. Blythe doesn’t seem to want me around,” Val said cautiously, hoping to get Julia’s opinion on the matter.

  “His problem is with me and not you. So, don’t take what he says or does personally. If I took everything he said to me personally, I’d have a nervous breakdown. Truth is, Phil can be a nice guy. He’s just under a lot of pressure right now. He gets nasty to be around with if things aren’t running smoothly.”

  It was possible. Maybe this was just Blyt
he’s personality. Still, Val couldn’t help but think there was something else. Something Julia wasn’t telling her.

  Julia continued her exam, not saying anything more about Dr. Blythe. “Now look at this. This man set himself on fire while cooking dinner. The flames from the frying pan took hold of his sleeve and then traveled across his torso to his legs. He’s burned over thirty percent of his body. For elderly people this is enough to cause death. They just can’t recover from this type of tissue insult.”

  She pointed out the injuries. The man’s arm was still bandaged in gauze, showing obvious attempts from the emergency room to stabilize his wounds. Muscle tissue, devoid of sound skin, was visible on the periphery of the bandages. His legs were in a much worse state and Val kept her eyes off them.

  Julia worked silently for a few moments. “You’ve probably heard about my dilemma?” The words caught Val off guard.

  Val tried to act like she had no idea what Julia was talking about even though she knew exactly what it was. Julia’s dilemma was her lawsuit. She had performed a minor surgical procedure on a woman who, it turned out, was her husband’s mistress. The woman had contracted a flesh-eating infection and had lost half her face.

  “Stop being polite: everyone around here knows about it. Candace mentions it whenever she gets a chance,” Julia said.

  “You don’t have to explain to me,” Val said.

  “I’d feel better if you knew the truth rather than listening to gossip.” Julia looked Val straight in the eye, her face serious, and said plainly, “I didn’t do it.”

  “I never thought that you did.” Val really didn’t.

  “Thanks. It means a lot to hear you say that. A lot of people do think it and I can see why.” Julia laughed wryly. “It would be a good way to get revenge on your husband’s whore. But honestly, I didn’t know she was having an affair with my husband.” Julia took a deep breath. “I believe she knew I was his wife, though.”