I barely register the cold air hissing out when I yank open the door and barge in, panning the cooler with my weapon. A number of gurneys are lined up along the wall, but only two of them are covered with sheets and I level my gun at those.
My finger curls around the trigger when I see movement under the sheet of the gurney on the left.
“Police. Don’t move.” My voice echoes loudly in the tiled space.
In one hand I keep my weapon trained on the still form, while I reach for the sheet with my other and yank it off.
“Meredith!”
Meredith
I almost cry when I hear Jay’s voice.
I’m not sure how long it’s been since I woke up gagged and strapped to a gurney, my head pounding as I could feel the heat drain from my body. I’d almost made peace with the irony I was going to die in my own morgue.
“Jesus, baby,” I hear Jay mutter, as he seems to struggle with the knots on the strips of sheet holding me down. “You’re bleeding.”
“Hmmkay,” I mumble from behind the wad of fabric shoved halfway down my throat.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”
Jay’s shaking hands immediately come up to pull at the binds covering my mouth and keeping my head from moving. The only thing I was able to do was curl my fingers and scratch my nails against the steel of the gurney.
“I’m oh-okay,” I reassure him when he pulls the wad of fabric from my mouth.
“You’re fucking not okay,” he snaps back, attacking the knots with renewed fervor.
I can see he’s upset, so I opt to stay still other than the involuntary shivering of my body.
The moment he has my hands and feet free, he pulls me into his arms, burying his face in my shoulder. His body is shaking almost as hard as mine is.
“Christ. I almost fucking shot you.”
“You didn’t.”
“I had my finger on the goddamn trigger.”
I push back on his shoulders, forcing him to lift his head. “But you didn’t pull it.”
He closes his eyes and shakes his head as if to clear it. Then he pins me with a glare, his mouth an angry line.
“What the hell happened?”
I tell him how I heard something, went to go check, and the next thing I know I’m tied to a stretcher in the cold locker.
“You never got a look at him?”
I shake my head no and instantly regret it as the pounding intensifies.
An hour later I’m sitting in my office, still fuming at the discovery whoever knocked me over the head had taken the laptop from downstairs and all physical evidence from the morgue. Not only that, they broke my favorite pair of glasses.
EMTs have come and gone, since I refused to go to the hospital. The small cut on my head was easily closed with some wound glue, and although I know I might have a concussion, I assured them I’d have someone stay with me. I have a feeling I wouldn’t be able to ditch Jay if I tried.
He’s out in the hallway with Blackfoot, talking in hushed voices while the crime scene team is working downstairs. That’s pissing me off too.
“Hey!” I call out, and both men turn in my direction.
“My brain may have been knocked around a bit, but it’s working and not only is it my morgue that was broken into, but last time I checked I was still part of this case.”
Blackfoot drops his head but not before I catch him biting off a grin, while Jay looks angry.
“You’re injured,” he protests.
“I have nothing more than a paper cut on my scalp and a little headache. Hardly enough to get sidelined.”
I observe something unspoken pass between the two men before they step into my office.
Blackfoot is the first to speak.
“We’re discussing who would be familiar with the morgue.”
“Plenty of people,” I offer. “Four of us working here now, but the morgue hasn’t had an upgrade in at least thirty years. I’m sure there have been many more that worked here before. Not to mention the frequent drop-ins from your department, the family members, funeral homes. The list is long.”
“Fair enough.” Keith sits down in a visitor chair across from me, but Jay stays standing, leaning a shoulder against the doorpost as he glares at me. I decide to ignore him. “Let’s cull the list. Who is familiar with the morgue and would have had access to the body of Dennis Heath?”
I told them earlier about Casey Shea’s report, which led to the discovery that the body parts belonged to a man I did an autopsy on months ago. I’d also already mentioned with no living relatives, Heath’s body was handed over to Benson Funeral Home where he would have been scheduled for cremation. His ashes would have been interred at Greenmount Cemetery in a public plot.
“What about your assistant? Paul Gibbons?” he prompts when I don’t answer right away.
It hurts my head to even think of that possibility and I rub my gritty eyes with the heels of my hands.
“That’s it,” Jay announces suddenly, stalking over and putting a hand on my shoulder. “I’m taking her home. You do what you need to do.”
To my surprise, Keith doesn’t argue. He nods at Jay and once again I get the sense something is being communicated I’m not in on, but I’m too tired to care anymore.
I let Jay pull me up and lead me out of the office, his arm tucking me close to his body. It’s not until we’re almost home I turn to him.
“I don’t think Paul has anything to do with this.”
He glances over and puts a hand on my knee.
“We’ve gotta run down all the possibilities, and like you said, there are quite a few. If he had nothing to do with it, we’ll find out.”
“He’s a good man. He’s been with the coroner’s office for a long time.”
I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince, Jay or myself. The thought he was in any way involved in this turns my stomach, yet I can still see the way he was studying Casey’s report.
Jay pulls his truck up to my house and turns off the engine. I undo my seat belt and am about to get out of the cab when he holds me back with a hand on my arm.
“Before we go in, there’s something I need to tell you…”
Chapter 15
Meredith
I feel a little rough.
Probably not surprising after a knock on the head and only a few hours of sleep. The quick shower helped a little.
Beau and Belle were missing from my bed when I woke up. They’re not exactly invited, but both somehow end up there in the mornings. Except this morning.
Coming down the stairs, I see Jay’s long body sprawled on my couch with his legs dangling off one side. Beau is on his back beside the couch, all four paws up in the air, and Bell is curled up on Jay’s chest. Neither seems particularly interested in my presence.
Traitors.
Since I know Jay was in my room a few times checking on me, I let him sleep, moving quietly around the kitchen to get a pot of coffee going. Real coffee. I figure he’ll need it.
The soft click of nails on the floor announces Beau is ready for his breakfast, as his head bumps against my hip. I drop a hand and scratch his ear.
“Morning, buddy. Glad to see you remember who feeds you.”