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“Doctor Mayet.”
Justin Lawrence, former shark DA and Copeland’s newest resident and mayor—newer to the city than even I am—is a scary man to most of my fellow residents. But not me. Somehow, I was able to slide past the intimidating front he puts on for everyone else, and skip straight to the part where he speaks to me the way he speaks to his similarly-aged daughters.
He’s an exasperated father, doing his best to steer us in the right direction in life.
“Nice of you to take my call,” he says dryly. “Considering I get your assistant more often than not.”
“Yeah, well, she said you insisted and that it’s important. What can I do for you?”
“Things are getting noisy around my office. Something about Copeland P.D. and the staff at the George Stanley investigating other cops?” He’s the DA today, it would appear. Not the mayor. “Why am I hearing about it from my staff and not the people directly involved?”
“Am I not staff too, Mayor?”
He silences for a moment. Frustrated. “You know what I mean.”
A soft snicker works its way along my throat. “I don’t know entirely what’s happening yet. Of all the people you could’ve called for information, you probably should have called Detectives Malone and Fletcher.”
“One of which happens to be your lawfully wedded spouse,” he responds quickly. “Figured I’d cut to the chase and call you, since you get both sides of the story.”
“It would be inappropriate for Archer to discuss his workload at home purely because we’re married.”
“Unless you’re also the coroner consult,” he shoots back. He came prepared with his answers. “Doctor Mayet?”
“Fine.” I glance up to the door as Aubree silently tiptoes through, then as she moves across my office and perches on the corner of my desk.
“Detectives Malone and Fletcher are currently working a case that involves a woman named Holly Wade who died more than thirty years ago,” I tell the currently very-DA-ish Mayor Lawrence. “Her death was ruled a suicide back then by two police officers who, in the nineties, were both ejected from the force for crimes not connected to Holly’s death. Both went to prison. One of them committed suicide while behind bars. The other is currently in my fridge downstairs.”
“Suicide?”
“Doctor Emeri is official lead of that case, Mayor. Butyes,” I toss in when he growls his impatience. “We’re both leaning that way. Before his death behind bars, Samuel Kavanagh had apparently confessed to his cellmate that he botched several of his cases over the years. However, that’s not my wheelhouse to discuss. You need to speak to Archer for that. Additionally, as I already said, the second former detective is currently in-house. The timing of his suicide is interesting, considering Holly Wade’s file had just been reopened.”
“You think he knew he’d be exposed so he checked out?” Lawrence asks.
“I can’t say that I know what he was thinking. But I do know, had he not committed suicide, he would’ve been dead in a matter of weeks anyway.”
“What?” Silence hangs heavy on the other end of the line. “Why would he have died?”
“Cancer. His lungs were almost nonfunctional by the time of my autopsy last night. His heart, liver, esophagus, tongue, lymphatic system, and kidneys were also affected. He was beyond help and living his final days. Though, it’s interesting to note that his medical records donotshow a cancer diagnosis. Not a single recent blood test. Nothing has been logged anywhere.”
“Is it possible he didn’t know?”
I consider for a moment but quickly shake my head. “He wouldn’t have been able to breathe. He would have been horribly unwell. Exhausted. Weak. It’s possible he didn’t know it was cancer, but he certainly knew he was sick. It makes me wonder why he didn’t seek medical care.”
“One of those things, I suppose. An answer we may never get. Now…” Mayor Lawrence takes a moment to continue, as though he’s shuffling papers. “We’ve touched on the fact there were two dishonorable police officers attached to Detective Malone’s current case. Both of those men are now deceased. What of the medical examiner who ruled Mrs. Wade’s death a homicide?”
A nervous laugh skitters along my throat. “That would be my predecessor, the former Chief of the George Stanley building. Doctor Chant’s signature is all over Holly’s case file.”
“And Doctor Chant’s thoughts on all this?”
I sit back, since it would seem Justin Lawrence is here for a long time, not a pleasurable time. “She basically says she was young. It was a long time ago. If there were mistakes in the file, she’s not surprised, however, the case was so long ago, she no longer has recollection of it and cannot answer questions beyond surface-level.”
“So she’s useless and shirks responsibility,” he inserts. “She simply walks away and shrugs her shoulders of this whole mess?”
“That’s about the gist of it, yeah.” Crossing one leg over the other, I play with the hem of my blouse. “Is there anything else you’d like to know about this case before I get back to work?”
“You sure do enjoy talking to me on the phone, dontcha, Doctor?”
My face warms. He’s calling me out.
