Dirt Nap Page 3
“Okay.” He clapped a hand hard on her shoulder before moving off toward Steph who was stumbling toward the tree line retching, while she struggled out of her gear.
Corey ripped her suit and gloves off, stuffing them into a giant red biohazard bag on the ground and staggered to the back of her truck and the industrial-size tub of cleanser. She pumped handfuls of it and slathered it over her hands, arms, and face, feeling every scrape and paper cut from the last week as the alcohol-based formula touched her skin.
Audrey, a cigarette hanging out the side of her mouth, thrust a bottle of water into her hands. “You did good, kid.” She grinned and took a drag so hard her cheeks sunk in.
Corey drained the bottle in seconds, water pouring down her chin before she came up for air. “Got another one of those?” She coughed and wiped her face on the back of her hand.
“You quit.” Audrey eyed her but held out her pack of reds.
“Ten years ago.” Corey nodded and accepted a light taking a long drag before holding it a beat and exhaling into the sky. “I’d bathe in and guzzle bleach right now if I didn’t know I’d die horribly.”
Audrey’s snort of laughter was the last sound as they smoked and drank another bottle of water each.
Corey looked around the clearing, noticing something was different. “What time is it?”
“Around two. Plenty of time to get the body mechanically defleshed and into boxes. I’m going to get cleaned up and meet you at the morgue with a couple of overeager students in an hour.”
Corey blinked stupidly at her. “Where’s the ambulance?”
Audrey smiled thinly. “Sergeant Collier knows the plan. He’s by the lake. I have to get going and get set up.” She squeezed Corey’s hand. “Thank you for your help. You have no idea how much I appreciate it.”
Corey nodded, unsure what was up. “Anytime.”
She grabbed another bottle of lukewarm water and headed around the house to find Collier and Steph passing binoculars back and forth, deep in conversation as they pointed across the lake.
Steph’s white T-shirt was soaked through to nearly translucent, her dark bra strap clearly visible. She gave no indication she minded and Collier gave none that he noticed.
“Hey,” Corey said wearily. “What now?”
“We need to know who lives there.” Collier pointed across the lake to the peaked roof and deck visible through the trees. “We need to go around to the other side and question the owners.”
Corey winced. “I can help you with that.”
Collier waved her off. “You’ve done your part.”
“I mean…” She sucked in a breath, the air blessedly cleaner on this side. “...I know the owner of that house.”
Collier and Steph turned in unison their eyes narrowing, similarly.
Corey pursed her lips. “That’s Thayer’s place.”
Collier blurted. “You’re kidding.”
“I kid you not.”
Steph stared at her hard, her eyes a mixture of sympathy, suspicion, and amusement.
“I need to speak with her,” Collier said.
“You know where to find her.” Corey dragged her hands through her damp hair and scratched her itchy scalp. “In the meantime, what happened to the ambulance and what are we doing with the body?”
“About that,” Collier began. “The ambulance service declined transport in exchange for the backboard.”
“So, how is the body getting—” Corey froze as Collier stared at her expectantly, and Steph could no longer meet her eyes. “No. Absolutely not. No fucking way. What happened to the old coroner’s van?”
Jackson City was too small to warrant a state run Medical Examiner’s office and too far from New York City or Albany to use theirs. Up until a couple of years ago they had been on a county coroner’s system. There were three elected coroners—a pediatrician, ENT, and podiatrist—none of whom could actually perform an autopsy. At most they were figureheads in an outdated system that got paid to show up to scenes to say, “Yup, he’s dead,” and then leave. The county eventually trimmed them entirely out of the budget.
“Got sold at auction last year.” Collier shrugged. “You’ll get a police escort from Austin and my undying gratitude.”
Corey stared daggers at him. “I hate you so much right now.” She turned her glare to Steph and jabbed a finger at her. “You too.”
The joke was clearly on her when the three of them came back around to the front of the house, which was crawling with police.
The crime scene unit in their own version of protective suits was unloading their van and Cin and Audrey were long gone. Corey watched, dismayed, while two severely underpaid-looking techs loaded the body into the back of her truck. They secured the bag with nylon cord to keep it from sliding around and causing more trauma before slamming the tailgate.
“She can even put the lights on for you,” Collier said as they watched the scene unfolding. “I’m going to stay here and supervise this circus.”
“Go to hell,” Corey growled.
“Don’t be like that, Curtis.” He gave her shoulder a rough, friendly shake. “You’ll get to blow through all the lights and everything.”
Corey staggered and bit down on a groan of pain. “Shit.”
Collier’s expression sobered. “Hey, are you—”
“I’m fine.” She gritted out and straightened up. “I need my glasses.”
“I got it.” He beat her to her truck and retrieved her tinted glasses. “Are you okay to drive? ’Cause Austin can—”
“Fuck that.” Corey snatched them out of his hand and flung her cheap ones into the grass. “Fuck those and fuck you.”
Corey peered into her truck bed. “Fuck me.”
Chapter Four
Thayer’s hand trembled slightly when she reached for the door handle to the doctors’ lounge. Damn, her blood sugar was low. It was after two and this was the first time the ED had slowed enough to escape. She was on shift with a first-, second- and third-year resident and Wendy Schilling, a very capable attending in the department. The two women had carried the morning.
There was one other, the fourth-year transfer she mentored as part of her fellowship with the Jackson City Memorial Hospital emergency department. He had been a thorn in her side since the moment he had strutted into the department in a cloud of cologne, despite the fragrance-free policy. His elite upbringing was written in his entitled attitude, veneered tooth grin, and personal trainer physique.
She raided the usually well-stocked refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of water and draining it. She was grateful she was alone when she wiped dribbles from her chin with the sleeve of her white coat. She grabbed a banana and yogurt, wishing she could turn them into a loaded bacon cheeseburger with the power of her mind. She suspected she wouldn’t have a hard time convincing Corey to go out to Main Street Burgers later for dinner, or even better, get takeout and cuddle on the sofa with a movie. Something to look forward to.
She dipped the banana in the yogurt while waiting for a fresh pot of coffee. She desperately wanted to get off her feet for a few minutes, but was afraid if she did she’d never get up again. She didn’t look up when the door to the lounge banged open and a male voice interrupted her precious minutes of peace. She already knew who it was.
Watson Gregory III, the senator’s son, was destined to be an asshole if for no other reason than he had a last name first and first name last. He lived up to it in fine fashion and Thayer winced as his insufferable voice boomed through the room, telling a totally inappropriate story to two impressionable junior residents about a night on daddy’s private yacht.
The strangled burble of the coffeemaker signaled its completion and Thayer glanced up to see one cardboard cup on the shelf above her. She reached for it just as his hand pressed into the small of her back and his other hand snatched it away. “Gotta be quicker than that, Reynolds.”
She closed her eyes, steeling herself and working to unclench her jaw.
In fact, she would have asked Corey to show her a few moves if she thought it wouldn’t lead to questions—and possibly violence when Corey demonstrated those moves on Watson Gregory herself. Corey would lose her mind if she knew this man walked a floor above her and treated people like he did.
“After you.” Thayer smiled icily and moved out of the way while he filled his cup.
She dug a stained drug rep mug out of the sink and washed it.
“That’s what I like to see,” he said as he sipped his coffee. “A woman who knows her place.”
Thayer stilled and she was certain she could hear the junior residents stop breathing. His harassment of her had been far subtler, though never unclear. He addressed her chest when he spoke to her, placed an unnecessary hand against her back and interrupted and talked over her during rounds. The last she usually wasn’t bothered by because he was often wrong. His embarrassment on those occasions, instead of tempering his attitude, just seemed to fuel his agenda.
This was the first time he had insulted her so brazenly in front of witnesses and she had but a moment to decide what to do—or what not to do. She finished washing her mug and poured herself a coffee before adding her cream. “Dr. Gregory.” She simply nodded to him and the junior residents and left him with his smug smirk still firmly in place.
Thayer flew out the door and nearly slammed into Dana Fowler, her friend since childhood and head nurse of the ED, as she was coming out of the adjacent nurses’ lounge. “Shit, sorry, Dana.” She cupped a hand around the rim of her mug to keep the coffee from sloshing onto her friend.
“You’re in a hurry. You’ve got some time still if you want to put your feet up.”
“It’s fine.” Thayer shrugged. “I’d rather just power through. There’s only a few hours left.”
“Excuse me, girls.” Watson Gregory came up behind them and made a show of slipping by, a hand brushing against Thayer’s back, though there was plenty of room for him to go around them without touching her.
Thayer stiffened and thought about throwing her coffee in his pretentious, carefully stubbled face.
Dana watched him as he headed to the desk before turning back to her friend. “How long are you going to let him get away with that shit, Thayer?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t give me that. If you think for one second I don’t know what’s been going on, you’re delusional.”
She sighed into her coffee mug. “I guess I was hoping if I didn’t engage with him he’d get bored and move on.”
“To someone else?”
“No, of course not.”
“The hospital has a zero tolerance policy for any kind of bullying, harassment, or hostile work environment. All you have to do is say the word and he’s out.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to—”
“If you say ‘cause trouble’ I’m going to kick your ass. Because you know as well as anyone this is what got him tossed from the other programs. It’s probably daddy’s money and influence that’s bailed him out and covered his ass so far.”
“That’s not what I was going to say. And I don’t know that and neither do you.” The rumor mill ground away at previously unachieved levels with his admission to their program and she wanted nothing to do with it or for Dana to be caught up in it. “Despite the bullshit posturing I think he has the ability to become an excellent physician if he could get over himself and learn something. If I go to Manning or HR it could torpedo his career.”
“So, you’re protecting him?”
“I’m not protecting him, exactly. I just don’t really believe his behavior is for real. It’s just so outrageous. It’s like he read the idiot’s guide on how to be a sexist asshole. If he’s as rich as people say he is, why go to medical school at all? It’s not like it’s easy or glamorous. Why not go into politics? Or why even work? He didn’t make it this far on daddy’s money. And even if he did, why emergency medicine? Why not plastics or derm? That’s where the money is and you barely have to get your hands dirty. No nights or weekends. The ED is about being on the front lines and helping people.”
“If he only knew his best advocate was the woman he’s treating like shit.” Dana eyed her friend. “What does Corey think about all this? Because I can only imagine—”
“Corey doesn’t know about this and she better not hear about it from you.”
“Got it.” Dana raised her hands in surrender. “But I would like to go on the record for suggesting you tell her and let her rip his throat out.”
Thayer smiled grimly. “The thought has crossed my mind. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Chapter Five
Audrey and Cin were waiting for Corey at the loading dock behind the hospital, which served as the rear entrance to the morgue. With them were two other younger graduate students Corey didn’t know.
She climbed out of her truck slowly and felt her back and shoulders stiffen. She worked to keep any signs of discomfort from her face lest someone pull rank and send her home.
Audrey grimaced. “I’m really sorry about your truck, Corey. It wasn’t my call.”
“Yeah, I know.” Corey sighed, resigned. Her anger had waned and she just felt drained by the day and disheartened at how much work they still had to do before she could clean out her truck.
Steph came up and touched her shoulder. “I’ll help you clean up your truck later,” she offered as if reading her mind.
“Thanks.” Corey nodded. “I’ll get a gurney.”
“What do we do now?” Steph stood against the wall with Corey while Audrey directed Cin and the students in the photography and external examination on the body occupying the only stainless steel autopsy table in the room.
“I wait until I’m needed. Is there something else you’re supposed to be doing?”
“Just observing and preserving chain of custody for now. If we learn anything I’ll pass along the information. When they’re ready to move the body over to campus, Kelly Warren is going to take over and I’ll probably head back over to the lake and meet up with Collier.”
“Warren?” Corey asked. “The kid who found the body, right?”
“He’s older than he looks,” Steph replied. “I think the sergeant has taken a liking to him. He was first on scene so he’s going to keep him involved with the case.”
“Well, good for him, I guess.”
They were quiet for a few minutes and watched as Audrey set a large black case on the counter and unpacked a handheld object that looked like a cross between a large digital camera and a ray gun. Corey straightened off the wall. “Is that a portable X-ray?”
“It is. I had some leftover grant money last year and finally splurged,” she replied. “Anyone who doesn’t want to risk radiation-induced cancer or infertility may want to step into the other room.”
Corey, Cin, Steph, and the graduate students all crammed into the doorway to the anteroom to watch Audrey scan the body from head to toe, watching the digital display intently and pressing the button to take digital stills as she went.
Steph tapped her foot on the tile floor. “Anything?”
Audrey was running the unit over the torso again. “No. No bullets or embedded knife tips or any other metal to speak of, and no obvious skeletal injury.”
Corey asked Steph, “Is that good news or bad?”
“A bullet lodged in his heart would certainly make cause of death easy to determine but I’m not surprised. There wasn’t any blood inside or outside the house.”
She winced, her expression pained.
“Don’t worry,” Corey offered. “You didn’t tell me anything I couldn’t figure out on my own. I was down there too. There was no blood. It certainly didn’t seem like he was injured and bled out under the house.”
Audrey paused her scan over the upper left leg and her brows rose slightly. “Here’s something. He has surgical hardware along his left femur—a plate and screws. That should help with identification anyway.” She shut the machine down and packed it away. “Corey, you’re up if you want to take a look and see if there’s anything you can salvage.”
Corey raised the mask from around her neck and tapped her face shield down over her glasses. She had changed into dry scrubs, paper gown, and plastic apron—her usual autopsy kit. What was left of the flesh was mottled gray-green and bloated in some places, sunken and sloughing in others. The toes and parts of the feet were shriveled black and desiccated, having been protected in heavy boots. All soft body cavities—eyes, ears, mouth, nose—were mostly eaten away by insects. Corey shuddered and shook off the crawling sensation creeping across her skin.
She shook her head as she snapped on a scalpel blade, knowing there would be nothing useable for her, but they had to go through the motions.
Audrey spoke up as Corey prepared for her Y-incision. “I don’t suppose I have to tell you—”
“I’ll be careful.” Corey nodded and sliced from shoulder to sternum and down, around the navel to the pubic bone releasing a fresh wave of putrid gas into the room. The fans were on full but doing nothing to touch the stench.
“Careful of what?” Steph asked around a cough. The other students continued to observe, take pictures and notes.
“Careful not to hit bone,” Cin explained while Corey worked. “It’s not something Corey really has to worry about in a routine post because it’s the soft tissue and organs we’re looking at. In this case that’s all useless so we need to analyze the skeleton, and we don’t want to introduce any artifact that may be mistaken for real trauma when we get the bones cleaned.”