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She chuckled and helped me disrobe carefully, so I didn’t displace any evidence. “Some job, huh?” she asked. “You’re gonna be okay. Just a little rattled right now. Perfectly understandable. Got some bullet fragments here.”
She just went about her business as if this were the most normal thing in the world, carrying on a soothing stream of chatter. I wasn’t sure what caused it. Maybe I just needed the mothering touch of another women. But I felt the tears drip onto my cheeks and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop them.
“There, there,” she said. “Almost done. Sometimes it’s just too much and we’ve got to let our minds process. You’ve got to take care of you first or you’re no good to anyone. You take my advice, cause we’re gonna be here awhile picking up body parts. You go home and take a good shower, get something hot to eat and take a nap. You’ll feel right as rain if you do.”
“How we doing, Daniels?” Jack asked as he and Cole left their tent.
They were both wearing what looked like paper scrubs, and dried blood was still streaked on their faces.
“Getting closer, sheriff,” Daniels said. “My girl is going to be good as new before too long.”
I finally found the courage to meet Jack’s gaze and I saw the worry there. I still hadn’t managed to stop the tears.
“Sometimes you’ve just got to put a pause on an investigation and take a shower,” Jack said.
“Amen, sheriff,” Daniels said. “Amen.”
My voice had never really recovered completely after I’d been strangled a couple of years ago, and I’d developed a raspy Lauren Bacall-type voice Jack told me was sexy. There were moments when I felt my vocal cords freeze and I couldn’t manage to make the sounds my brain was communicating, so when I opened my mouth to speak the sound that came out wasn’t what I was looking for.
But eventually the words came. “Did Martinez catch him?” I asked.
Jack shook his head. “The guy was gone by the time they got up to the roof across the street. He was literally staked out right above where we were talking with Cole in the coffee shop. He didn’t leave his casing behind this time, and we have a potential witness who said a Caucasian or possibly Hispanic male bumped into her on the sidewalk and got into a small white four-door sedan.”
“I was expecting a manlier car,” I said.
“White four-door sedans are the most common in America,” Jack said. “Perfect way to blend in. There’s probably half a dozen parked at the meters along this stretch of road. She wasn’t able to give us any identifying markers. He was wearing a black coat, gloves, and a watch cap pulled low. He also had on sunglasses and a scarf. Hardly any of his face was showing.”
“There we go,” Daniels said, closing up the last evidence bag. She took a wet wipe and let me wipe my face and mouth, and then she handed me a pair of paper scrubs like Jack was wearing.
“There’s nothing else we can do here now,” Jack said. “Time for a shower and lunch. In that order.”
“I’m not going to argue with that plan,” I said.
“Thattagirl, Doc,” Daniels said. “See you next time.”
I stopped and looked at her in the eyes so she’d see my sincerity. “Thank you,” I told her. “Truly. You were a gift.”
“There’s all kinds of ways to protect and serve,” she said, patting my hand.
CHAPTERELEVEN
The house wasquiet when we arrived home, and there was no sign of Carver. On the kitchen table was a file folder filled with several sheets of paper. I couldn’t even think about the case right now.
“I’m going to shower in the bathroom next to the laundry room,” I said. “I’m afraid what residue I’ll track upstairs.”
Jack grunted and I took off the paper scrubs on the way to the bathroom, shoving them in the big trash can inside the laundry room. My hands and around my nails were stained pink, and I didn’t bother to look at my face in the mirror.
I turned the water on blistering hot and stepped into the shower, watching the water turn to red as it spiraled down the drain. I didn’t fight the tears, but I let them fall freely as I scrubbed every inch of skin until it stung. I washed my hair three times, hoping that was enough, and then I stepped out of the shower and dried off, glad the mirror was too fogged to see my reflection.
I hadn’t thought ahead about fresh clothes, but Jack had. He always thought of the details and there was a soft gray sweat suit and underwear sitting on the vanity.
I put on the clothes and then wrapped my wet head in a towel, and then padded out to the kitchen where Jack was making sandwiches. He was wearing a similar sweat suit and his feet were bare. It wasn’t often Jack kept quiet, but he’d been a man of few words since the incident.
I took a seat at the bar across from him and watched him assemble BLTs with efficient movements.
“So,” I said. “Interesting day.”
Jack took the chef’s knife from the block and cut both of our sandwiches down the middle. I flinched at the sound of the force as the knife hit the wood cutting block, and then raised my brows as he arranged the sandwiches on plates in silence and then put one in front of me.
