Chris Redding - Corpse Whisperer

“Not well. I’d only lived there three weeks.”

Zach flipped open a pad. “You didn’t see him socially?”

“Socially? He’s married.”

His stare went through her. Then she understood him.

“Lovers. You think I was his lover? Have you seen his wife?”

“No.”

“She’s a beautiful woman. Why would he have an affair with me when he could go home to that?”

His gaze remained unflinching, but she refused to fill in the silence. So the lack of noise stretched on for a moment, Grace staring into his gray eyes. Faint lines on his granite face hinted at the character they’d show when he was older.

His olive skin was already beginning to sport a tan, which didn’t make sense if he spent the day in an office. “So he was in your apartment to fix the stove?”

“I guess. I was on my way to meet him.”

She relaxed. If this was about the fire then she had nothing to worry about. “Have you eaten?”

His gaze bounced from his notepad then to her. His eyes narrowed. “No.”

“There’s some leftover Chinese I could heat up.”

“Miss this is an official investigation.”

“So you don’t eat when you’re on duty?”

“This isn’t a social call.”

“I didn’t expect it was, but you need to eat.”

His eyes looked tired in that instant as if he’d fought too many battles that day to win this one. “Fine, but where were you earlier today?”

“You mean when the fire would have been set?”

“Yes if it turns out it was set.”

“You’re leaning that way.”

He shrugged. “Instincts.”

“Okay.”

She put the food in a microwave bowl and set it on its course to reheating. Then she wiped her hands on a towel before settling back on the couch. “I got off work about 6 a.m.”

“Did you go home?”

“No, we’d had a tough last call and I was wired. I went to the gym, worked out.”

“Anyone see you there?”

“I had to sign in with an electronic card.”

He cocked his head. “But you could have left?”

“I guess, yes, I could have. But I didn’t.”

“Then what?”

“I called Dolores and she met me at her place. She told me she was taking a half day anyway so she didn’t mind.”

“What time?”

“I’m gonna say ten or so. She may remember.”

“I’ll ask her.”

“No doubt.”

His gaze flicked back to her. She sensed something warm in his look, but he quickly buried it. The microwave dinged.

“Then after Dolores?”

“Shopping. I can show you the receipts.”

He nodded, snapped his book closed then stood. “How about that food?”

She eyed him wondering how he could bounce out of his cop persona so readily. “Food’s done then.”

He smiled. “Good, I’m starved.”

Zach dialed Ed Bauer as soon as he left Grace’s apartment. “She didn’t do it.”

“Who didn’t do what?”

“Grace Harmony didn’t set that fire.”

“What about the stuff I uncovered in Pennsylvania?”

“I don’t care. She didn’t do it.”

“Okay, but I’m not closing the book on her just because you’re dick is twitching.”

Zach disconnected and let out a loud laugh. Yes his dick was twitching

Grace’s cell phone rang, waking her out of an amazing dream. About Zach again.

Mark’s slurred speech brought her to full awake. Something was very wrong. Her bones told her. They ached with anticipation and not from her erotic fantasy.

“Mark? Are you drunk?”

What was going on with him? It was as if the world had leaned a little on its axis. Nothing was as it should be. She hated being confused.

“Yes, I’m sitting on the beach, toasted in several ways.”

“What’s wrong?”

She hadn’t known Mark to be a drinker. The occasional beer was the most she’d ever seen him consume. Something awful must have happened to him.

“I love you,” he said, with finality.

The words hung in her ear like a crouton that was too dry to swallow. This was not a problem she needed right now.

Her eyes fell closed. This was all happening too fast. She knew he felt this way, but why was he calling so soon? “What? Mark, what’s wrong? Tell me.”

“That’s it, Gracie. I love you and always have. I’m trying to prevent a murder, here. I’m so wracked with guilt.”

“Mark, calm down. Who is going to get murdered?”

Not another one. She’d had enough of dead bodies in her 29 years. She couldn’t handle another one.

“Oh, Gracie. You know. You always knew. Sometimes before I did.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I wish I didn’t love you. My phone’s dying.”

He severed the connection, leaving Grace with a pounding heart and a confused brain. She punched in his phone number, but his voicemail answered. “Mark, call me when you get this thing charged.”

What could all this mean? Did Mark have something to do with the puzzle of Dolores’ death? She couldn’t figure out how he could. She shook off the eerie chill that had descended on her.

Knowing full well sleep was not going to happen, Grace pulled on bike shorts and a t-shirt to go for a run. When she finished, she walked the last block, her mind still whirling from what Mark said.

“He couldn’t mean Dolores? He doesn’t even know her and why would he kill her?”

She ran a hand over her sweaty face and turned down the driveway, stopping dead for a moment. Someone stood looking up at her apartment. The moonlight illuminated him, but not enough for her to make a description.

Her cell phone came off her belt and she dialed the police, then Zach.

“How’d you get my number?” he said.

Shit. She’d forgotten she didn’t know that yet. “Uh, Dolores gave it to me in case of emergencies. This is one. There’s a guy standing on our driveway.”

“I’ll be right over.”

Grace hid behind a tree across the street but kept eyeing the man. He didn’t move, just stood and stared as if studying the place. What would she have to steal?

A patrol car cruised up the street, no lights or siren, then pulled into Dolores’ driveway. The man stared into the headlights, and then ran.

Grace walked over to the cop. “I’m the one who called.”

“I’m Officer James, Ma’am. You live here?”

“In the apartment above the garage. Didn’t you see that man? He ran away?”

The cop eyed her. “I didn’t see anyone.”

“He looked familiar.”

The cop pulled out a notepad. “You know him?”

“Can’t say for sure.”

Her head spun. This wasn’t how it should work. What had she done differently to make a change in the events?

The man didn’t resemble Mark. Who else would be here?

The cop asked a few more questions then promised he’d look around the neighborhood.

Zach was waiting for Grace when she got out of work. Same stance he’d had before, but two days earlier than she expected.

He wore khakis and a blue button-down shirt. Wet hair, slicked back from his face, ended in a riot of curls at his neck. Steely eyes stared through her over mirrored sunglasses. With his jaw set, his face looked to have been carved from granite.

She supposed that countenance could intimidate many, but she wasn’t buying. Her lack of sleep and inability to solve this murder took precedence over his ego.

“Howdy.”

His scowl deepened. She found him more attractive when he smiled. Now he was cop-like.

He pushed away from her car. “How’d you get my phone number?”

A bird flew overhead and squawked as if laying claim to some morsel of food no one else could see. Parking lot gulls she called them.