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“We have guests,” I murmur, bringing my eyes down again. Aubree’s back is to the glass, so she doesn’t see what I do. But I describe them, just as she describes the wound that killed a cop. “I count twelve badges out there. Approximately half of them are in uniform. The other half are plain clothed detectives. None areourdetectives.”
“You recognize their faces?” She drops her gaze from the ceiling and carefully stretches Lucas’ wound wider. She doesn’t tear the skin, but she needs more room to move. More space to probe. “Anyone we know?”
“None I can pick off the top of my head. Detective Mercer worked out of Midtown, and though we know a couple of those guys, I don’t see them out there now.”
“Are they angry?” She doesn’t turn to look. Which is a herculean effort, as far as I’m concerned. The autopsy tech who wears colors like rainbows are becoming extinct, and gossips more than she breathes, is never one to hold back. To glance over her shoulder and take a peek would be easy. But she’s working, and beneath all the silliness and spontaneity, is a doctor who busted her ass in medical school to graduate early and walk out with a shiny degree that boasted honors. She acts flighty and crazy, but I’ll be damned if it’s not just a cover. A front, so she has an outlet to balance the death we work with daily. “Are we walking into drama when we leave this room?”
“Yep.” I lower my focus and go back to documenting Mercer’s physical attributes. We don’t get to move on with our autopsy until we pull the slug. “They’re all pretty serious out there. Unfriendly eyes. Broad shoulders.”
“Their colleague was shot.” She folds herself closer to Mercer’s chest so the visor of her mask almost touches the detective’s skin. “I imagine Archer would look kinda mean if Fletch was on this table, too.”
“Don’t put that juju into the air.” If I believed in superstition, I might consider tossing salt over my shoulder to save my friends from bad luck. “I’d feel pretty awful if Fletch got hurt after the way I’ve treated him this month.”
“A reminder to be kind, no matter how petty we’re feeling. I’m pulling the slug out now.” She scrunches her face with concentration, while at the same time, immeasurable caution. Because if she grabs the bullet too tight,she might tear her gloves. And if she tears her gloves, we’re going home and sitting in time out until labs can be run. “It’s a slippery sucker.”
“No one is timing you, Doctor Emeri. Take it slow and get it done.”
I glance up when a new shadow falls across the glass and Fifi pushes the door open.
Though she stays on her side of the threshold.
“Autopsy suites are protected areas, Ms. Lewis. You need to gown up and grab a mask if you wanna come in here.”
“Not coming in. Mayor Lawrence is on the phone. He’d like to speak with you.”
Mayor Lawrence is a royal pain in my ass. “I already spoke to him today. Tell him I’m in autopsy right now, but I’ll email him?—”
“He understands you’re in autopsy right now. He still insists on speaking with you.”
“For,”fucks, “sake,” I grumble. Though I consider my ability to censor myself superhuman. Setting the clipboard on the stainless-steel counter lining the wall, I turn back and meet Fifi’s wary gaze. “Doesn’t he care that I’m trying to work?”
“I’m certain he does. Still, he ins?—”
“Insists on speaking to me.” I stalk toward my phone and pick it up to discover missed calls from the man we speak of. “I get it. Tell him to call my cell. I’m not leaving this suite while Doctor Emeri is conducting this autopsy.”
Unimpressed, but the ultimate professional, she dips her chin and backs away from the door. Then she strides to the nearest desk, picks up the phone, and relays my instructions to a mayor not accustomed to being told what to do.
I wait them out, watching the slim, five-foot-six could’ve-been-a-model instruct the mayor to change his plans; then I look down at my phone and growl when it vibrates with a new call. Swiping to accept it, I bring the device to my ear and bite out an impatient, “We had a deal, Justin. You call less. Email more. I would reply when I get the chance.”
He scoffs, soft and humored. Though damn, the sound weaves its way into my heart until I realize he’s kind of tricked me into liking him. “Consider these extenuating circumstances, Chief. You have Lucas Mercer in your building?”
I narrow my eyes in an instant, furrowing my brows so I feel the wrinkles digging into my skin. “I’m not able to discuss an active homicide investigation, Mayor. You’ve called the wrong person.”
“I’ve called exactly who I intended to call. Archer got the case?”
“No comment.” I hug the phone between my shoulder and ear, so I can get to work peeling the gloves off my hands. Already, they sweat in the unforgiving rubber. “And I repeat: You’ve called the wrong person.”
“Lucas Mercer was an off-duty detective from the narcotics division over at Midtown when he was gunned down on my streets today, Chief. I assure you, whoever I call is intentional, and when I ask a question, I expect to receive an answer. Where are Detectives Fletcher and Malone on this case so far?”
The dude just won’t quit!He knows Archer keeps me in his pocket. So if the mayor wants information on an open case, he hardly needs to call the investigators directly.
I sigh.
“Detectives Malone and Fletcher are taking statements from those who live and work near the crime scene. Word I’ve caught so far says no one heard anything. No one saw anything. I’m not a Copeland native, and I rarely explore, so I don’t know all of its neighborhoods yet, but I’m hearing, and observed that Marigold and Ninth are not particularly friendly streets. Most businesses were boarded up, and those that weren’t didn’t seem inclined to help. Female seamstress called 9-1-1. I believe the detectives were due to speak to her soon.”
“And your autopsy?”
You’re a pain in my ass!“Doctor Emeri is our lead medical examiner on this case. I’m acting only as the assistant and documenting, since the latter half of my week will be spent out of state. Doctor Emeri is currently excising the slug that penetrated our decedent’s body. Her initial findings indicate intercostal penetration. The bullet appears to have lodged in the vic’s right lung. This led to a collapsed organ, and in the end, I suspect we’ll find he died from a massive pulmonary hemorrhage.”
