A Deep and Dark December(20)

Graham wished there was a law against being a self-righteous prick just so he could throw Keith in a cell. He had to remind himself that it was a good thing she had a boyfriend. She was also a witness in this case, the only witness. And he had no business starting something with her when what had happened in L.A. wasn’t completely over.

He watched their taillights until the night swallowed them. A few hearty souls were still camped across the street. The coroner would be bringing the bodies out soon. Graham was sure that’s what they were waiting for. He recognized his cousin Willie and lifted a hand in reluctant acknowledgement.

God, he couldn’t wait to get out of this town.

He walked into the false florescent nightmare created by the lights the tech guys had set up. Night crime scenes were the worst. Everything was lit up like a movie sound stage, giving it an eerie dreamlike quality. The butcher shop stench of death, mingled with the coppery tang of blood, anchored the scene, ensuring no one present would mistake this for anything other than the horror it was.

He found Pax talking to the coroner in the kitchen. He walked in just as Greg’s body bag was being zipped closed. The sudden tightness in his chest caught him off guard. He rubbed at it with the palm of his hand. When he’d left San Rey he’d left everything and everyone behind. Including friends like Greg. Good friends. Somehow taking those friendships with him had seemed impossible at the time. Now it seemed stupid and childish.

He wondered who was left to make Greg’s funeral arrangements before turning his attention to what the coroner was saying to Pax.

“—to the lab, but I can tell you that Na-tabs are prenatal vitamins. My wife took them. If Mrs. Lasiter was prescribed them, she was most likely pregnant. We’ll know for sure after the autopsy.”

“Can you check paternity against the husband?” Graham asked.

Pax swiveled his head in Graham’s direction. “You don’t think Greg’s the father? Why?”

“I don’t know anything for sure,” Graham said. “Just covering all the bases.”

“We’ll check paternity against the husband,” the coroner said. “I’ll let you know our findings.”

“Thanks.”

Graham watched them wheel out Greg’s, then Deidre’s body. He knew well the path his friend’s body would take, what the autopsy photos would show, how he’d look pale and waxy on the table, a Y incision carved and stitched into his flesh. Greg should’ve grown old, died old. If anyone had asked Graham which one of them would be the first to stand over a grave, Graham would’ve said it would be Greg standing over Graham’s. He’d taken risks—too many risks—and survived when more deserving others hadn’t. As usual his thoughts drifted to Patricia. Another person who should’ve grown old and died old. Another grave Graham had to stand over. Another person he’d let down.

Graham shook those thoughts off. That was a bad road to go down, especially now when there was so much work to do.

He turned to Pax. “Did you get the name of Deidre’s doctor from the prescription bottle?”

“I did. I Googled him. His office is in San Luis Obispo.”

“Where she lives now.” Something nagged at Graham, but he couldn’t put his finger on what he was missing. “What’s your take on this, Pax?”

Pax puffed up a little, adjusting the weight of his belt. “From the witness’s statement and appearances, Greg’s death was self-inflicted. Deidre’s… it’s too soon to tell yet, but my gut says murder/suicide. I’d sure like to know more about why they were getting a divorce. You know, other than what my wife tells me she overheard at the beauty shop.”

“What’d your wife hear at the beauty shop?”

“You aren’t serious. That’s just a bunch of gossiping wives and girlfriends.”

“Sometimes there’s truth in gossip.”

“Well…” Pax began. “Not that I listened or anything, but the talk was that Deidre had plans, was bragging about coming up in the world. And if you tell anybody I passed on rumors from the Clippity-Do-Da, I’ll sock you in the teeth.”

That jived with what Erin had told him about her vision of the killer.

Graham chuckled. “Hey, man, sometimes police work is dirty work.” He clapped Pax on the shoulder. “Keep your ear to the parlor door. I’m counting on you.”

“Yeah, right. Next thing, you’ll want me to go down and get a permanent wave so I can record the gossip for you.”

Graham pretended to consider it.

“No way I’m stepping foot in that cackle house.”

He winked at Pax. “We’ll keep that option open just in case. Did the crime scene techs get all the samples I asked for?”

“Yeah. There was one thing they noticed when they moved Deidre’s body.” He motioned for Graham to come closer. “Deidre had a tattoo right here.” He pointed to a spot over his heart. “They said it looked new, still scabby. It was two hands holding a heart.” Pax pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “I took a picture of it. Thought you’d want to have a look.”

He brought up the photo and handed the phone to Graham. The tattooed design was of a red heart with a crown on top held on either side by hands.

“The Claddagh,” Graham said. “Good work.”