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“What the hell happened?” Minka charges through her office, pacing up and down her line of soldiers, also known as Aubree, Ethan O’Dey—the driver who transported Mellet in—and two paramedics, one of whom announced Mellet dead at the scene.
For the first time since she took up her position at the George Stanley, I watch the chief medical examiner do thechiefpart of her position, and not just the doctor portion.
“Do you people not know how to assess if a guy is actually dead?” She spins on the paramedics first. “Which one of you is Donovan?”
“Er…” The two of them are an easy six feet tall. They’re fit, they’re strong. But under the formidable Minka’s glare, they shrink. “Me, Doctor. I’m Donovan.”
“He’s alive!” she roars. “Mr. Mellet isalive. So tell me which day on the way to earning your degree you called in sick. Was it the part where we learn what a pulse is?”
“D-Doctor Mayet,” he stammers. “He was frozen solid. I checked for signs of life. I checked his pulse. There was nothing there.”
“There was clearlysomethingthere!”
Moving to O’Dey, she growls, “You transported a dying—dying, but not dead!—man to the morgue. What the hell happened?”
“I—I—I just do the job, Doctor Mayet.” The little guy quivers under his crush’s anger. “I was called in, so—”
“Doctor Emeri!” Minka turns on her closest friend in the world and makes the fearless Aubree tremble. “What. The. Hell?”
“I didn’t perform my autopsy yet,” she rushes out. “You called me off and told me to put him in the fridge.”
“When I tell you to put a body in the fridge, I assume you knowI mean adeadbody!”
Minka turns away from her team and scrubs her face so hard, I worry she’ll tear the skin straight off. “Does no one here understand the termlawsuit?”
“She’s raging.” Fletcher steps up beside me and sniggers. “Is this what it’s like to be you?”
For the first time in twelve hours, I crack a smile as I knock my shoulder against Fletch’s in solidarity. “You see her fire? You see how fucking fierce she is?”
“She’s not to be trifled with, that’s for sure.”
“She’s perfect.” I lean back against Aubree’s desk and cross my ankles as Minka tears strips off her staff on the other side of the glass wall. “I sold my soul to Cupid, Fletch.”
“Ya think?” he laughs. “She’s got me hooked, too. How the hell did we end up with a live guy in the dead guy fridge?”
“I’m pretty sure she’s wondering the same damn thing.”
“When a person is suffering severe hypothermia,” Minka shouts, “he can have as few as two beats per minute.” She spins on the EMT. “Did you check for an entire minute, Mr. Donovan?”
“No, I—”
“That’s how it happened,” Fletcher cackles, just loud enough to draw Minka’s furious glare.
Instantly, my bold partner clamps his lips shut and drops his gaze to his feet. “She’s scary. Speaking of, did you hear Miranda London is looking for you again?”
I fold my arms across my chest and flatten my lips. “Miranda London deliberately tried to cause harm to someone I love.” Turning to my partner, I lift a single, daring brow. “People don’t come back from that. They don’t get a second chance in my eyes.”
“And if you were feeling a little salty, or Tim-ish, chances are, she wouldn’t survive it.”
“I’m not gonna hurt the bitch the way my old man would. But she’s dead to me either way. Find us a new contact in the media, because Miranda’s not getting a single thing from me again.”
Glancing back to Minka, I draw a deep breath and consider what comes next in our investigation. “Did you get word from McNamara yet? Last I heard, he was finishing up the newest sketch.”
“I’ll call him now.” Taking out his phone, Fletch stops for a moment and watches Minka make the enamored O’Dey tear up for his part in this clusterfuck. “She’s about to waterboard them. You watch.”
I choke out a cleansing chuckle and cover my mouth when Minka’s glare burns me where I stand.
