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MINKA
“Shit. Mayet.” Standing across Carlene’s body in Autopsy Room One, Aubree peeks up at me through safety glasses and peers over my shoulder.
I don’t have to turn to know what she’s looking at. I see the mayor in the reflection of the plastic covering her eyes.
Drawing a deep breath, I reach along Carlene’s body and gently pull the sheet up to afford her modesty, then when she’s decent, I set my own safety glasses aside and hit mute on the radio Aubree switched on for us the moment we got Mrs. Thoma on the table.
Turning to the door, I wander forward, while on the other side of the glass, the mayor waits with a face twisted in anger.
He’s pissed, and it seems I’m the one who’ll pay the price for whatever’s upsetting him.
Removing my gloves, I pull the door open far enough to speak to him, but not so much that I’m inviting him in. “Mayor Tribble. How can I help you?”
“You have Carlene on that table?” His voice crackles.
With grief? With anger?
“I do. You have my condolences, Mayor. I understand you and your cousin-in-law were close.”
He turns his nose up and flattens his lips. “Close enough. I’m told there’s a page. A handwritten note Carlene took from the house.”
My eyes narrow.
“I’d like to see it.”
“Uh… Mayor.” I step through the door and let it close at my back. “This is an ongoing investigation. I’m not in a position to compromise the evidence. Not even for the mayor of Copeland.”
“Detectives Fletcher and Malone are saying Garry is their prime suspect,” he spits out. “They say they’ve all but tied it up.”
“Have they?” My heart thuds deep in my chest. “I wouldn’t know. I’m not a police officer, which means I’m not privy to the case but for my part in the process. I work with the body.”
“Show me the page,” he snarls. “I want to see it right now.”
“I’ve already said—”
“There’s no investigation to compromise!” he barks out. “Garry is dead, Mayet!”
“He’s…” I swing around when the door opens at my back. “What?”
“Dead!” he growls. “They harangued him while in custody, Miss Mayet. Harassed. Bullied. He’d just lost his daughter and his wife, and in the end, his heart couldn’t take anymore.” He takes another step forward until I’m wedged between him and Aubree. “Give me the page. I want to see what was written about him before I have to step in front of the press this afternoon.”
“I can’t, Mayor Tribble. I don’t—”
He reaches out with a quick swipe of his hand and grabs me around my already aching wrist. “I said,” he grits through his teeth, “give me the page.”
“We don’t have it.” Aubree steps around me and works to pry his hand from my arm. “Mayor Tribble, the police take these things from us just as soon as we’ve processed it. We didn’t get to do anything with it, because there was nothing on it that pertains to us. No blood, no saliva, nothing at all for us to test.”
“You don’t have it?”
She shakes her head, fast and sharp jerks. “Detectives Malone and Fletcher have it. You should call them.”
He looks over our shoulders and into the autopsy room, while behind him, James Kirk—second-year medical examiner, and not of theStar Trekfandom—stands back and watches our scene play out.
“I expect Garry’s body to arrive here within the hour,” Tribble sneers. “Treat him with the dignity he deserves and put this to rest. He might’ve made mistakes, he might’ve done something cruel to that little girl, but he’s dead now. He’s paid his dues.”
I’d like to agree to disagree, but more than that, I want the mayor to go the hell away so we can get back to work, so I shut my trap and once again place myself between Tribble and Aubree.
“We’ll treat him right.” I lift my chin and study him with a neutral expression. “Shall we let the detectives know you’re looking for them?”
