Kathy Reichs: Grave Secrets

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. I got Galiano back out of bed to see if we could track you down.”

“I’m sure he was thrilled.”

“The Bat’s flexible. We called FAFG. They had people working late but hadn’t seen you. I mentioned that you had raised a Zuckerman-Lucas connection, and Bat decided to chat up Lucas. Lucas wasn’t at home, so we thought we’d check the morgue. We spotted Zuckerman’s Volvo in the morgue parking lot, then the partly open bay door.”

“Where was the regular security staff?”

“Lucas had sent them home. We think he planned to do a hurry-up post on Maria Zuckerman.”

“Out of unbearable grief for his fallen colleague.”

Ryan nodded. “When we hit the autopsy room, Lucas’s brains were decorating the wall. You were unconscious, so we poured your pretty little butt into an ambulance, then headed back to sweat Serano.”

Ryan brushed bangs from my forehead, regarded me with an expression I couldn’t read.

“Lucas had ordered Serano to dispose of you. His method of choice was going to be asphyxiation. You accommodated by taking the shower of the century. The jackhammers provided sound cover. Commando boy laced your Coke, planned to wait in the closet for the big swoon, then apply your pillow. Problemo. A maid showed up. Serano blew out of there muy pronto. ”

“You’ve spoken with housekeeping?”

Ryan nodded. “Maid thought it was me.”

“What the hell did Serano slip me?”

“Who knows? Serano hasn’t said. We told the paramedics you had food poisoning. They pumped your stomach, and the hotel staff had discarded the can.”

“Knocked me on my ass.”

“That was the idea. Docs think the Pepto and Imodium blunted some of the effect, and kept you conscious. Also, you had upchucked some.”

He tickled a spot under my chin.

I batted his hand away. Winced.

“How’s the wrist?”

“Just a sprain.”

Ryan took my hand and kissed the fingertips.

“You had us worried, cupcake.”

Embarrassed, I changed the subject.

“Lucas had Nordstern killed?”

“Looks like Nordstern came here legit to write about Clyde Snow and his human rights work. In digging up material on Chupan Ya and other massacres, Nordstern got his hands on old army records naming Alejandro Bastos and Antonio Díaz. At some point he would have exposed Díaz, and Lucas would have lost his leverage. Lucas might have had him popped for that.

“More likely it had to do with Patricia Eduardo. Seems Nordstern was an equal opportunity snoop. Once he got to Guatemala City, he either read or heard about the missing girls, and started looking into the disappearances. When he found that one of the four was an ambassador’s kid, he sniffed off on that trail. When he discovered Chantale had problems and the ambassador was a sleaze, he wanted details.”

“Why go to Montreal?”

“At that point he was on the same page we were. Thought he’d have the story of the decade if he could tie Specter to the body in the tank. Great stuff. Sophisticated diplomat. Naïve young girls. Sex. Murder. Mysterious death. Septic tanks. Diplomatic immunity. Foreign intrigue. I don’t think he knew Patricia Eduardo was pregnant.”

Ryan stroked the back of my hand as he spoke.

“God knows how he thought the ES cells fit in. We found a receipt from the Paraíso in Nordstern’s expense folder.”

“He actually stayed there?”

“Inquiring minds accept no limits. That’s how Nordstern got to know Jorge Serano.”

“Who led him to Zuckerman.”

“Which led him to an interest in ES cells.”

“Which is what got him killed, if the Díaz thing didn’t.”

We were both quiet a moment. Then, “What’s happening with Chantale Specter?”

“Restitution to the MusiGo store, then rehab.”

“Lucy Gerardi?”

“Parental lockdown. Without Chantale’s help she can’t break out.”

I was almost afraid to ask.

“The internal investigation?”

“The department and I are copacetic on Señor Vicente.”

“I’m glad, Ryan. It was a good shoot.”

Nurse K came in to check my IV.

“Where’s Galiano,” I asked when she’d left.

The flicker of a frown.

“He’ll be by.”

Ryan snugged an arm under my shoulders, pulled me to him, and laid his cheek on the top of my head.

I felt a comfortable warmth flood over me.

“When I saw you lying on that floor last night, next to a gun and a body, I was overcome by a great sense of loss.”

I was too surprised to speak. Perhaps the best course. Whatever I said would probably be wrong.

“I realized something.”

Ryan’s voice sounded odd. He pressed my head to his chest.

“Or maybe I just finally admitted it to myself.”

Ryan nuzzled my hair.

What? Admitted what?

“Tempe—”

His voice faltered.

Ohmygod! Was he going to use the L word?

Ryan cleared his throat.

“I’ve seen too much of the underside of life to have much confidence in people. I don’t really believe in happy endings.” I felt him swallow. “But I’ve come to believe in you.”

He settled me back on the pillows and kissed my forehead.

“We need to rethink where we are with each other.”

I wanted to talk, to pursue this line of thought. My eyelids wouldn’t cooperate.

“Think about it.” Cornflower eyes pierced straight to my soul.

You bet.

The next time I woke, Mateo and Elena were peering down at me. Elena’s face was so wrinkled with worry she looked like a sharpei.

“How are you?”

“Right as rain.”

Mateo and I laughed. It hurt like hell.

“What’s so funny?”

“Something Molly said.”

They assured me the Chupan Ya work was proceeding well, told me the villagers were planning a funeral. Mateo had just spoken with Molly. She was barreling toward full recovery.

Again, hard as I tried, I couldn’t stay awake.

Galiano was the next phantom to appear by my bed.

With flowers.

The place was taking on the air of a funeral parlor.

“You were right-on about the attack on your colleagues.”

“Molly and Carlos?”

Galiano gave a nod. He looked as well-groomed as Ryan.

“Jorge Serano’s copped to that hit.”

“Why them?” I asked.

“Mistaken identity. Lucas sent Serano after you. He wanted to disrupt the recovery team by knocking off the headliner. He thought that was you.”

A cold, sick feeling swirled in my chest. Guilt? Sorrow? Anger?

“Why disrupt the work at Chupan Ya?”

Galiano gave a half shrug. “Lucas didn’t want to lose his firewall.”

“Díaz.”

Galiano nodded. “Or maybe Lucas feared Díaz knew too much, that if the DA was arrested for his role in the massacre, the little worm might begin to bargain.”

“The twisted bastard.”

“When Lucas found out I’d requested permission to bring you into the Paraíso investigation, he had another reason to want you out of the picture.”

Galiano took my hand. His skin felt rough and cool. He kissed my fingers.

First Ryan and now Galiano. I was beginning to feel like the pope.

He pressed his lips to my palm. O.K. Not the pope.

“I’m glad you’re O.K., Tempe.”

I was not O.K. I was getting less O.K. by the second. What was it with my libido and these two guys?

“Go on.”

“Serano was already tied in to Lucas, since he was the one who dumped Eduardo’s body in Papa’s septic tank. He agreed to do the Sololá shooting.”

“Why did he dispose of her so close to home?”

“I asked him that. The moron thought the body would be reduced to nothing in a matter of weeks. When the drains at the Paraíso backed up and Papa began poking around, Little Jorge nearly shit his pants.”