Part 23 (1/2)
She was silent a moment. ”Yes. Sean Canady.”
He was quiet, then said carefully, ”He's a good cop.”
”Why do you say that so carefully?”
He hesitated again. ”Well, there was some trouble right here in New Orleans-”
”I remember it! Those gruesome murders.”
”Well, we've had lots of gruesome murders, but these were really specific. Sean had a lot to do with solving them, and then again, there was a lot that went unanswered and unsolved.”
”You sound as if you don't trust him.” ”It's not that I don't trust him, it's just that...”
”What?”
”I just think you might want to keep away from him. He could add fuel to the fire of past fears and ... well, he's good guy. Just.. .just maybe not good for you right now.”
She didn't answer. ”So you're heading back to the morgue?”
”Then home again. I can hardly stand up.”
”You should tell them that. You shouldn't have to work when you're that sick.”
”Well, you've got to realize, the cop powers that be don't often care if we make each other sick as h.e.l.l-they can't afford to. We have to worry about the general public we protect and serve, but I can hardly pa.s.s anything to the kid now,” he said his tone even but with a sense of sadness beneath. ”Forgive me?”
”Forgive you?” she murmured, confused by the sound of his voice.
”For what?”
”For ... for being entirely worthless.”
”You're not at all worthless. There's nothing to forgive.”
”You're just about the best thing that's ever happened to me.”
”Same to you, Rick,” she said softly. ”Call me tomorrow.”
”Will do.”
She hung the phone up slowly, curious that she felt...
Relieved.
No, I'm not relieved, she told herself.
But I am.
She suddenly wished she had asked Shanna where she was going.
She could have shown up and seen this new man who might be entering her sister's life.
She went back to the dining room table where they had been working on the pumpkins, finished picking up the mess they had made, then took the pumpkins one by one and dried them out.
When she finished, she decided to put votive candles in the jack-o'- lanterns, and see how they looked.
Hers was okay, spooky enough once it was lit.
Shanna's pumpkin looked downright evil.
”Those are pointed teeth, little sister!” she mused aloud. The pumpkin made her acutely uncomfortable. To her amazement, she found herself afraid. She blew out the candles and she set both pumpkins out on the brick balcony wall.
Coming back inside the apartment she loved so much, she realized that she felt very restless, and that she didn't want to stay home. She could hear music from the street below, and laughter. Someone was having an early Halloween party.
You're not invited!
But this was her city, and she knew it. She didn't need a party to go out. The French Quarter was beautiful, and she knew the shopkeepers in her neighborhood, and the waiters at the coffee houses, and the bartenders at the lounges.
She'd just go out for a drink or a coffee.
She brushed her hair, grabbed a jacket, and headed out. A long walk alone might be just what she needed.
Terry Broom was young, fairly new to his job at the medical examiner's office. He'd been hired by the head coroner, Pierre LePont, he had shown LePont his findings, and LePont had told him to bring in the Homicide cops.
Terry was six feet tall, very thin, and had a freckled face and wild red hair. He was only a few years out of school- although he was greatly relieved to be able to say that he had turned thirty.
Still young compared to the more experienced doctors here, but he knew his stuff.
He had always been at the top of his cla.s.s. He had learned from a doctor in Gainesville, Florida, who had had such a pa.s.sion for his work that he had all but branded it into his students.
A medical examiner was really a victim's last great hope.
An M.E. cut into the dead and violated the body. That had to be done with the greatest respect.
And done with every effort to bring a killer to justice, or to put a terrible accident to rest.
This time Terry had nearly been fooled by what had appeared to be obvious.
Gla.s.s everywhere. Huge chunks of gla.s.s, shards of gla.s.s.
Cuts everywhere ... It was easy to see how going straight through the winds.h.i.+eld might cause such tragic damage to a human being.
But since he had first examined the body, something had disturbed Terry. Something beyond the obvious.
So now, with skeptical cops encircling him, he nodded at Daniel, a motion that told his even younger a.s.sistant that they were ready for the sheet to be drawn back.
Daniel, looking very green, nodded in turn. The body seemed more horrible each time he viewed it.