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“I’m not saying anything of the kind,” the doctor said. “I’m reporting my findings. It’s all I can do. The investigative work is up to thepolice.”
“But your findings indicate that Abby’s father had consumed more alcohol than was in the bottle in his truck,” Max clarified. “And any alcohol he would have consumed at the ranch would have hit his bloodstream by the time of the accident, all of which points to the possibility that someone forced alcohol down his throat shortly before or even after hisdeath.”
“By my estimation, those things are probable, yes,” Doctor Kowalski said. He shook his head. “Although I should say that in my twenty-two years as a pathologist, I’ve never seen anything likeit.”
Abby was glad Max had spelled everything out. She wasn’t sure she could have done it, not because she didn’t understand what the doctor was saying, but because she couldn’t believeit.
Because it was so horrifying, so perverse, she didn’t dare speakit.
A house can’t heal you… neither can playing nice with the man who hurtyou.
You don’t know how to let go of thepast.
Jason’s words echoed through her mind. She hadn’t told Max about her run-in with him outside the grocery store. They had been having a nice dinner — a dinner she didn’t want ruined by the specter of Jason — when the call came about her father’saccident.
And afterwards… well, afterwards what was thepoint?
“Someone killed him.” She barely recognized the voice as herown.
“Between the location of the blunt force trauma and the… inconsistent blood alcohol findings, I’d say it’s possible this was a homicide,” the doctorsaid.
“Can we get a copy of the autopsy report?” Maxasked.
Abby looked at him, surprised by the coldness in hisvoice.
“There’s an official request form,” the doctor said, reaching for a piece of paper and a pen. “If Miss Sterling will sign it now, I’ll do what I can to see that it’sexpedited.”
Abby took the pen and signed her name automatically. There was a voice of reason in the recesses of her mind. It was telling her she should be angry and horrified and determined to make Jason pay for this, the most heinous of all hisactions.
But she could barely hear it screaming through the image of her father, alone and hurt, forced to endure the final humiliation of dying like the drunk he was trying not tobe.
Max stood and helped Abby to her feet. “You’ll send the report to thepolice?”
“As soon as this meeting is over,” Doctor Kowalskisaid.
Max nodded. “Thank you for this information. The funeral home will be sending someone for Mr. Sterling thisafternoon.”
Mr.Sterling.
It was a small show of dignity from Max that she appreciated. That was all her father had wanted in the end — a littledignity.
She held Max’s arm, afraid she wouldn’t make it down the long hall of the morgue otherwise. She didn’t start sobbing until they stepped out into thesun.
