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“What do you mean?”
“In the seconds before he died, it was him. Or a part of him at least. He was scared. He knew me. It sounds stupid, but . . .”
“Not stupid at all, Angel,” he said gently. “We don’t have enough information about the mutation to know what’s possible.”
“Is he going to go dead-shambly now? Like Judd and Douglas Horton?”
“Kyle is taking post-mortem samples. I won’t know until I can check them for parasite activity.”
I rubbed my eyes, and my fingers came away wet. “Okay. You’ll keep me in the loop? Please?”
“Of course I will, Angel. You can count on me.”
I lowered the phone. The doors shooshed open, and Allen exited. He put a hand on my shoulder. “Angel, I was going to have Nick take care of transporting Connor to the morgue, but I need to send him on a call. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I . . . I want to be the one to bring him in.”
He gave my shoulder a squeeze. “I told Nick to meet you at the boat launch to swap vehicles. It’s going to be a while before Connor’s body is released to us, so I’ll text you when you need to come back.”
I gave him a grateful nod then returned to Nick’s car and made my escape.
• • •
The boat launch wasn’t exactly a halfway point between morgue and hospital, but I suspected Allen knew I liked it out there. I parked facing the river then sat on the hood. Sunset cast shimmering streaks of pink and orange across the water. Soon this day would be over. Hard to believe it had started at 4 a.m. No wonder I was exhausted. And hungry—in more ways than one, especially since I’d left my bag of brain chips in the van. I could use a burger with a
side of brains right now.
Nick pulled up a couple of minutes later. I hopped off the Hyundai.
He climbed out of the van, sympathy in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Angel.” He hesitated then wrapped his arms around me. I returned the embrace, ready to open up, share the grief with him.
The scent of his warm, fresh brain made my mouth water. A shudder went through me, and I pulled away. I was a monster. No changing that. I wasn’t hungry enough to try to crack his skull open, but it might happen someday.
Nick gave me a puzzled look. “Angel? Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s not you. I promise. Keys are in the console.” I took a step back. Safer for us both if I kept my distance in every way that mattered.
Nick gave a single nod, eyes on mine, then tilted his head toward the van. “Okay. Ditto.” For an instant he looked uncertain, as if he wanted to say more, do more. But then he turned away and climbed into his car. “Call if you need anything.” He hesitated again, then shook his head and drove off.
“Fuck,” I said then said it a few more times. I grabbed the bag of brain chips and stuffed four in my mouth, which kept me from continuing to say Fuck until the heat death of the universe.
The van didn’t have a hood I could sit on, so I leaned against the bumper and finished the chips while the sun slipped below the horizon. I tried to think of anything but Connor—biology notes, the morgue inventory, the fate of the frogs—but the mental image of his eyes floated before me, and his voice endlessly whispered, Angel?
My phone rang as the first stars made their appearance. Dr. Nikas.
“Kyle arrived with the samples,” he said. “I’ve only performed the test for parasite activity on the post mortem sample thus far, but I wanted you to know that it was negative. Deputy Connor is truly deceased.”
“Oh.” I swallowed. That was good, right? As if anything could be good in this whole situation. “Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”
“I’m very sorry, Angel. I will call again when I have more information.”
I hung up. A few seconds later my phone buzzed with a text from Allen.
• • •
Allen helped me roll the gurney out to the van. Even using the ambulance door, I couldn’t escape the grief and shock of the cops. It flowed out like a black wave, enveloping everything in the vicinity. I caught a glimpse of the sheriff holding the hand of a freckled, middle-aged woman wearing a grief-stricken expression. Connor’s mother.
Averting my eyes, I loaded up Connor’s body, closed the doors, and headed for the morgue.
