Part 7 (1/2)
”Danny, didn't you say they told you she drowned?” asked Rae.
Danny shrugged. ”I got the call. They said she was found dead in her hot tub.” He shrugged. ”I guess I jumped to the wrong conclusion.”
Rae frowned as she watched Danny pause to light up a Marlboro on the steps of the Lakewood Munic.i.p.al Complex.
”I'm working on quitting.”
”Did I say a word?”
”I know what you're thinking. I don't smoke in front of Josh...or Beth.”
”Uh-huh. Like they can't smell you.”
”At least it's not pot.” He took one more drag, then ground out the cigarette under his heel without looking in Rae's direction.
”May as well skip Wheat Ridge for now,” Rae said. ”If Veronica can't get anything out of them, we sure can't.”
As they got into the truck, Danny asked, ”What was it about Metro Unit that froze Veronica up?”
”I can't talk about it. I'd be closing a door on a friends.h.i.+p, as well as an information source.”
”I'm your client. Don't I come first?”
He was turned in the seat, facing her. All she could think of was the effort it took not to give him a matching welt on the other side of his spoiled brat face.
”Stupid question,” said Danny, no doubt picking up on her anger. ”I'm sorry, that was cra.s.s.”
Rae shrugged. ”There's stuff you can't know. But I can share this with you. Veronica will do everything she can to help us. She was my husband's partner.”
”I thought he was Denver P.D.”
”He was. Veronica was there-I mean there on the spot-when Anthony was killed. Right after that, she left law enforcement for about a year. Then she signed on with Lakewood, and her career's gone really well. She's in a position to know things. She'll share what she can, but she can't risk her job.”
”Right. Besides, she wouldn't be much help if she got fired.”
Rae turned her face toward the pa.s.senger window, took a deep breath and counted silently to ten. ”Keep going south,” she said coldly. ”Pick up Six. We're going to the Jeffco Coroner's office.”
Danny drove slowly, sticking to the right lane. Rae wondered if he had the stomach to view the grim details of Dee's autopsy report. As she glanced sideways at him, he appeared short of breath, was breathing choppily. He really should kick the nicotine habit.
”Why would JJ kill Deidre when she was his cash source?” she asked after his breathing appeared to return to normal.
”Good point. Dee's little estate is peanuts. Morgan and the kids get her share of Grandpa's now that she's gone.”
”Then it seems like JJ Camacho would be the loser with your wife dead, any way you cut it.”
”How would he have known? He's ripping off a rich lady. I doubt he's the type to have a background in estate law.”
”Point well taken,” said Rae. ”But now he's got n.o.body to rip off.”
”Do I turn here?”
”Yep.”
Danny pulled into the Jefferson County Civic Center, a complex of eggsh.e.l.l-colored cement buildings neatly nestled just off Sixth Avenue in Golden. He parked near a directory where Rae quickly located the building that housed the coroner's office and paced off in that direction with Danny close behind.
The one-story building that housed the coroner's office sat a bit apart from the cl.u.s.ter of larger structures. She felt Danny lagging farther behind her as they approached the entrance. ”Let's just get this over with,” she said, making her voice kinder that it had been. She was turning into a shrew, and pretty soon, if this didn't stop, she wouldn't be able to stand herself.
He followed her like a robot into the building. She observed his chest heaving in those short, shallow breaths he'd bee taking in the truck. When the reception desk loomed in front of them, he let her do the talking. Then they both followed a young woman to an office where they were to meet with a deputy coroner.
Soon a thin, middle-aged woman in a white lab coat joined them and introduced herself as Dr. Roland. Rae completed the introduction for herself and Danny, who barely nodded and kept his hands in his pockets. Rae wondered if it was to keep them from shaking. Her judgment of him softened further as recalled her own state of mind following the loss of Anthony. And Danny bore the burden of guilt just dumped on him for having abandoned his wife to a rapist. No wonder his chest was heaving.
Dr. Roland was ready for them with a slender sheaf of papers. ”The autopsy findings are that death resulted from anoxic encephalopathy related to a seizure consistent with cocaine toxicity.” She read the words from the top paper.
Rae watched Danny's apathy transform into antagonism. ”That's it? That's it, and you decide it was an accident?” His words were inappropriately hostile. The doctor blinked behind heavy gla.s.ses and stepped back a full two paces.
”That is correct,” she said through thin lips that barely moved.
”That conclusion a.s.sumes Mrs. La.s.siter injected herself with cocaine?” Rae strove for a neutral tone. No use of two hot-heads going off at the woman, who was only doing her job.
”There has been no evidence presented to indicate otherwise.”
Rae could see Danny's comment coming, complete with expletives that would get them tossed out on their b.u.t.ts. As she bent toward the doctor, as if trying to read the report, she stepped down hard on Danny's foot. Turning back into his howl of protest, she mouthed the words, Shut up!
Rae turned back to the doctor and asked, ”Could you give us a little more detail on how you arrived at that conclusion?”
The deputy coroner pursed her soda cracker lips and glared at Rae, reminding her of a malevolent owl. ”The report speaks for itself.”
”Excuse me,” said Rae, ”but two separate law enforcement jurisdictions have complaints on file from the deceased regarding threats to her life.”
”I wouldn't know about that.” The woman's sharp little nose twitched slightly, transforming her from owl to rabbit. ”All our office has to go by is the physical evidence. This was a long-term cocaine user--”
”She,” interrupted Rae, ”his wife.” Rae indicated Danny. Neutrality of tone had flown the coop. ”This is how you describe a thing, not a person. Show a little respect.”
She saw Danny wince. No, Danny, I'm not going to hit her.
Owl blinked once. ”I've made you a copy of our entire report.” She stepped away from Rae and handed Danny a manila folder. He took it but didn't open it-just held it as if it might explode. As he turned toward the door through which they'd entered, Owl said ”Sorry for your loss, Mr. La.s.siter.”
Rae took Danny's arm and steered him out of the building. She could hear him fuming under his breath. ”Sorry for you loss,” he mimicked, his voice a notch higher than normal. ”Why do they keep saying that? I mean, they don't f.u.c.king know me. Didn't know Dee. Sorry?” Rae watched him take in deep gulps of cool, fresh air.
”Danny...” Rae hooked an arm in his, moving toward the truck. ”It's what people say when they don't know what to say.”
They were at the truck. Rae watched Danny fumble for the keys, then drop the autopsy report. She s.n.a.t.c.hed up the folder and relieved Danny of the keys. His hands were trembling, and he still couldn't seem to get enough air into his lungs.
”I'll drive,” said Rae. He didn't argue.
They got into the truck. Rae fiddled with the unfamiliar gears.h.i.+ft, taking an extra minute or so to get them on their way. She chose another return route-north on Highway 93, toward Boulder, past the site of the decontaminated Rocky Flats Nuclear Plant that had been converted into a wildlife refuge.
As she drove, Rae thought that the desolation of those windswept foothills on the west side of the highway must match Danny's mood. She wondered if he could ever clean up his toxic memories.
When she no longer detected the sounds of his labored breath, Rae ventured a look at him. ”You okay now?”