Chris Redding - Corpse Whisperer

“Well, she kicked me out so I can’t stay in her house. I guess I’ll camp in my car. Do you really think that it’ll happen tonight?”

She bit her lip. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

“Well, just in case.”

He stood.

“Stay.”

His gaze went molten. “I can sleep on a chair.”

Her heart leapt. The idea of a warm body next to hers appealed to her. Especially his warm body. “No. There’s room on the bed.”

His head shook, his lids half-closed. “I can’t sleep next to you and not want something.”

He reached out to her. She leaned into his hand. “I don’t expect you to. I’m a big girl, Zach. I can make these choices.”

His smile lit up the room. “I’m going to do a circuit of the property. I’ll be back. Don’t let anyone else in.”

Grace laughed. “Who else would be here?”

“The boogey man,” Zach said, then left.

Zach walked in the waning sunlight. No one stirred, but a dog barked in the next block. He missed the sounds of a neighborhood; barbecues, kids screaming. You only heard footsteps in an apartment building. Sometimes someone played their stereo too loud.

He had to buy a house. He nodded as if he’d just made a major decision. Maybe he had. A decision to finally let another woman into his heart.

He rounded the front porch and heard a shot. His heart pumped wildly as he let himself into Dolores’ front door. The back door slammed as he searched for his ex-wife.

She lay bleeding in the hallway. The nurse was unconscious in the kitchen.

“Grace.”

As if a spirit bidden by a spell, she appeared in the doorway. “I heard the shot.”

“Did you see anyone?”

“No.”

Grace grabbed the phone and dialed for an ambulance.

“Damn. You were right.”

Her face told him she thought he’d believed her. He bit his tongue. He’d revealed that he hadn’t actually believed her.

Wrenching the sheet off of Dolores’ bed, he bunched it up and put it over her gaping chest wound. He held it down as if his life depended on it. If Dolores lived, Grace wouldn’t have to leave. His pulsed beat double time as his muscles strained to hold down the sheet.

“They’re on the way,” said Grace. She felt for a pulse, but shook her head. Then she began CPR.

No pulse appeared on Dolores before the EMT's arrived.

Grace surveyed the emergency department’s waiting room thinking she’d been here too much lately not even counting when she worked. She knew the time would come soon to rewind.

She had less than an hour before her birthday. Her heart raced at the idea she might not get to Dolores in time.

Dolores would ask that of her once again to help her. Her bones ached with weariness while her heart pumped with a newfound love.

Too bad he wouldn’t remember her. She would start from scratch with him. For once she didn’t want to leave anything behind. Usually it didn’t matter. Even though she’d been in a relationship last time, the timing of it had been that she’d only lost a bit of the relationship. She didn’t start again.

Zach wandered in and sat down next to her. His shoulders slumped and a piece of hair stood up from running his hand through it. He still cared about Dolores, if only a little bit.

“They’re still working on her.”

“I can find out more, but it’s better to let them work.”

He nodded his breath coming out in noisy burst. “I’m not a patient person.”

She touched his arm, a wave of dizziness washed over her. Her eyes fell closed and she slowed her breathing. His arms went around her probably as much for himself as for her comfort.

“I should have believed you. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.”

I’m used to it. Only Mark ever believed her. Only Mark understood and she had no idea where he was. He had from the very beginning.

She sighed, drinking in Zach’s warmth that made her head spin. How could she be with him anyway when he made her feel sick? She disengaged herself from him, then stood. “Coffee?”

His gaze searched hers as if for an answer. “I don’t love her. I haven’t for a long time. That doesn’t stop me from worrying about her.”

“I realize that Zach. I just need to move.”

Two detectives appeared in the waiting room door. “Grace Harmony?”

“That’s me.”

“We need to talk to you. At the station.”

Zach stood. “This can’t wait, Josh?”

The detectives exchanged a glance. “No, Zach, it can’t.”

Grace didn’t know what to say. Would she get a chance to see Dolores if she wasn’t here? Would she rewind or would Dolores’ death always weigh on her mind.

Like the last time. She couldn’t do this again.

“Uh, do I need a lawyer?” she asked.

“Yes.”

A chill went down her spine.

“Wait a second. What do you have on her?” Zach asked. He put himself between her and his fellow officers.

“We can’t say, here, but we need to speak with Miss Harmony.”

“Josh, Bill, tell me.”

“We’ve found the murder weapon.”

“Okay, so,” Zach said.

She put a hand on his shoulder. He’d be risking his job. “Don’t. I’ll go. Find me a lawyer.”

She’d need to see Dolores. Maybe in the morgue. She gathered her purse, patted Zach on the arm, then followed the pair to an unmarked car.

When she turned around, Zach was in the hospital doorway, watching her. She waved and climbed into the vehicle.

They didn’t cuff her, but she looked restrained anyway. Zach went back to the waiting room, racking his brain for why finding the murder weapon meant questioning Grace. She had no connection to this event.

The nurse came in. “Mr. Holten? I’m sorry, but Dolores didn’t make it.”

“Thanks.”

He jammed a hand through his hair, not sure what to do next. Dolores didn’t have any known relatives. Her parents had died years before leaving her wealthy.

Not sure what his next move was, he drove to the police station. On his way he phoned a lawyer friend.

Kyle Walton had been Zach’s friend since high school. When Zach went to the police academy, Kyle went to college. As Zach took the detective’s exam, Kyle was passing the bar.

Not a criminal attorney, the two had never crossed paths professionally. Until now.

“Do you know what time it is? It is almost happy hour.”

Zach grimaced. “I didn’t realize it was late. It’s an

Emergency.”

“I have no doubt it is. You in trouble?”

“No, but someone I know is. She’s at the station for

Questioning.”

“She? Dolores?”

“No, she died tonight. Someone shot her.”

“Oh, Zach I’m sorry.”

He’d worry about Dolores’ death later. Grace problem he could do something about. He hoped she would let him. “Thanks, but I think Grace needs your help.”

“Grace. I’ll be at the station in fifteen minutes.

Tell her not to answer any questions until I get there.”

“She’s been there for a few minutes, now.”

“Then you get there and hold them off. Professional courtesy or something.”

Zach disconnected, hoping he wasn’t too late.

Grace sat in the interrogation room, a lukewarm cup of coffee in front of her. No one would tell her anything. No one would tell her if Dolores died.

Her gaze kept straying to where a clock should be. She had no idea what time it was. Her cell was off and in her purse, but they’d taken that.

She did know Dolores was probably dead. And she’d have to go back again. And Zach wouldn’t know her. Her heart ached at the idea.

She could not think of a reason why she sat here stewing. What game were they playing?