A Dirty Shame (2 page)

I looked at the man strapped to the tree. A man who could have been someone chosen by the church to do no harm and help whomever he could. A man who was supposed to be gentle and kind.

“He deserves better than this,” I said.

“Everyone deserves better than this. Let’s cut the chains and get him the hell down from there.”

An audible gasp could be heard from a few of the younger cops as the victim was lowered to the ground onto the clean plastic tarp I’d spread out. I didn’t see any new faces in the crowd. Everyone on scene had been through the horrors of seeing death up close. But this death was something more. It was more personal. More violent.

“Go ahead and leave him face down and get the shots of his back,” I said to Colburn. I took my own pictures, documenting each laceration.

“You got it, Doc.” He didn’t spare me a look, but he said, “It’s good to have you back.”

I nodded and realized that was as good of a homecoming as any.

“Is the perimeter up?” Jack asked Colburn.

“It’s up. I’ve got Lewis and Martinez following the trail with flashlights, but we’ll wait until daylight before we start combing the area. Nothing but woods and dead leaves around here,” Colburn said, looking around us. “We’ll be lucky to find anything more than beer cans and used condoms. The teenagers like to come out here to party.”

“Yeah, well, at least they’re using condoms,” Jack said. “We’ve only got another hour until sunrise. Call in and get whatever you need for the search. Let’s use three-man teams to keep the traffic down and switch them out every two hours so eyes can stay fresh. I don’t want any screw-ups on our end.”

“You got it, boss.” Colburn moved off to give instructions to the others.

“Colburn seems to be doing okay,” I said quietly. We both kneeled down next to the body, and I looked at the flayed skin on the victim’s back.

“He’s doing better,” Jack said. “I thought I was going to lose him there for awhile. He wanted to quit. Started drinking a bit. But he straightened himself out pretty quick. Colburn’s a fighter. After I convinced him to stay on, the city council decided they needed to get involved and boot him out of town. They wanted to make a law keeping known fornicators from representing the city.”

I felt a laugh bubble up at the absurdity, but held it back in deference to the body in front of me. It was easy to forget that not everyone around us had seen as much death as Jack and I had in our lifetimes. Relieving stress and tension through laughter in the face of violence was commonplace with cops and morticians. But these guys were young and unseasoned, and they just wouldn’t understand. They’d go home and make love to their wives or girlfriends in a frenzy of lust, or they’d find their tempers flare throughout the day while that adrenaline from fear and the thankfulness for just being alive tried to surface.

I scratched at my cheek with the back of my hand so no one could see me smile. “Did you tell them half of the city employees would have to resign? Including their sheriff?” I asked.

He turned to look at me, and I hadn’t realized how close we were. Close enough that our whispers could only be heard by each other. Close enough that I could see how the black of his pupil melded into the dark brown of his iris. My lungs burned and I reminded myself to breathe.
In and out. Inhale and exhale.
Conscious breathing had become a habit over the past months. I knew all too well what it felt like when the air stopped. When the oxygen didn’t fill the lungs, no matter how hard you tried.

“You’re going to hurt my feelings, Jaye. Haven’t you heard? I’m a changed man.” His smile was pure sin. A little apologetic and a lot determined as he seemed to stare straight through me—to the part of me that was scared down to my toes to examine what it was he was trying to say—to the part of me that wanted him to touch me even though the thought of physical contact with anyone made me physically ill.

I cleared my throat and broke eye contact, not knowing what was going to come out of my mouth until the words formed. “You can tell the victim’s been flogged with something other than a belt or regular whip. The jagged tears in the flesh indicate some kind of metal might have been sewn into the device.” The words were stiff, as if I’d been giving a lecture instead of talking to the one person in the world who knew me best.

I felt more than heard Jack’s sigh. His soft exhalation of breath fluttered the hair around my face, but I tucked the loose strands ruthlessly behind my ear, pretending to be completely absorbed in my analysis. It was a lie. My brain had stopped functioning the moment those dark eyes had dared to show me something a little more than I was ready for. Maybe I’d come back home too soon after all.

Jack didn’t wait for me to get it together. He asked the obvious question. “What the hell is that white stuff?”

I shook free of wherever it was I’d mentally travelled and saw what he was talking about. Little white granules, no bigger than grains of sand coated the edges of the ragged flesh.

“Salt,” I said, hoarsely. “Whoever did this poured salt in his wounds.”

Jack pulled a small black case from the inside of his coat pocket, no larger than one of those useless evening bags women were forever carrying around, and he opened it to reveal an assortment of useful tools. I had one just like it, but I’d tossed it in a box to be given away to Salvation Army before I’d left town.

“Nice tools,” I said, recognizing the set as my own.

“A recent acquisition. I probably even know where you could get a set for yourself.”

“That could be useful, considering my new job.”

He pulled out what looked like a dentist’s pick and handed it to me. I scraped gently at the salt until I had enough to put in one of the plastic Ziploc bags rolled up inside the case. I passed the tool back and grabbed the tweezers so I could get the rope fibers I’d seen around his neck.

“Where are his clothes?” I asked. “Where’s his car?”

“I’ve got a uniform checking out Reverend Oglesby’s house, but he lives over in King George Proper, so it’ll be a while before he reports in.”

“Hand over a couple of the larger bags,” I said. “Most of his fingernails have been removed, but he still has the thumbnail. Maybe he’s got some skin under there.”

I bagged both of the victim’s hands, though the task was more unpleasant than I remembered. It might’ve had to do with his hands feeling like sacks of uncooked rice floating in gelatin instead of skin and bones.

“Do you want to turn him?” Jack asked.

“No. I’ve got everything I need for now. I can do more at the lab. There’s not much more for me to do here.”

Jack nodded and called out to a couple of his men. “Let’s get him loaded up.”

My lab was in the basement of Graves Funeral Home, and it had all the necessary equipment for preparing the flesh for burial or making serious Y-cuts for autopsies. It hadn’t been used in a while, and I was nervous about seeing it after being gone for so long. Would the smell of embalming fluid and antiseptic have dissipated over time, or would that lingering scent of death still hover in the air?

I stood up and let a couple of the uniforms maneuver the victim into a body bag. An ambulance had arrived on scene at some point and one of the EMTs had wheeled over a gurney. The back of my Suburban was stacked high with suitcases and a few boxes of my parents’ belongings I’d found in a closet at the cabin. Once I got rid of the boxes and burned everything inside of them, I’d have a lot more room for bodies in the back. Until then, I had to make do with the ambulance.

“I hope you’re not expecting a fast turnaround on this, Jack. That guy has so many wounds I’m not even sure where to start. And—” I took a shaky breath before I could finish. “I just don’t know how long it will take me.”

I saw his hand coming and braced myself for the touch. He watched me closely as the weight of his hand landed softly on my shoulder. The longer we stood there like that—after I reminded myself to keep breathing—the more I started to relax. The tension crept out of my body and I kept my eyes steady on his. The strength and support of his touch never wavered. I could trust Jack with my life. I already had.

“Just take it one step at a time. I’ll be with you every step of the way on this one. At least until you get settled back in.”

I’d normally be annoyed at having someone underfoot while I was working. Especially Jack. He’d never been comfortable watching the things I had to do down in the funeral home basement, and I didn’t need to lose focus if I was going to do this job well. But I was grateful he’d taken the choice away from me. The last thing I wanted was to be alone with a John Doe and my own thoughts. I’d never been truly comfortable with the dead. Or at least I’d never been before. Maybe things would be different now that I’d almost been one of them.

“We need to verify ID so I can notify next of kin. I’ll get his prints and make a comparison from inside his house.”

We walked back to our cars and I pulled off the latex gloves with a snap before shoving them in the back pocket of my jeans. I opened the door of the Suburban and propped my foot on the sideboard before turning back to Jack. The sun was just beginning to lighten the sky to a pearl grey. Colburn and the other cops would be starting a search of the area before too much longer, and I’d be back on familiar ground, keeping company with the dead and wondering why I wasn’t one of them. Life was a funny thing. A finite thing. And you never realized how finite until you’d crossed that line from life to death and then back again.

“Jaye?” Jack asked. By the look on his face it was obvious he’d tried to get my attention more than once.

“Sorry.” I scrubbed a hand over my face and then massaged the back of my neck. “I guess I’m just tired. It’s been a long night.”

“You should grab a couple of hours sleep before you start on the body. He’ll keep until we verify the ID. Where are you staying?”

I turned my head and watched the light spread through the trees as the sun rose. I didn’t want to face the question Jack was really asking. Whether or not I’d be able to stay alone in the house I’d almost died in.

“I’ll stay at the funeral home for now. I’ve decided to put the house on the market.”

It was the first time I’d said it out loud, but immediately I felt as if a giant weight had been lifted off my chest. I was selling the home that I’d grown up in. A crumbling legacy I was supposed to pass on to my nonexistent children. And I was okay with it.

“You know I’ve always got an extra room if you need it,” Jack said, tucking my hair behind my ear. “And I’ll even promise not to sneak in and take pictures while you’re in the shower and sell them for a quarter in the lunchroom.”

I narrowed my eyes, remembering the moment well. Third grade hadn’t started off well for me. My dating life had pretty much been ruined by the time I was eight. “You still owe me eleven dollars for that stunt.”

“You can send me the bill. Or I can buy you a cheeseburger.”

“That’s a damned expensive cheeseburger. I think a cheeseburger
and
a beer will cover the tab. ”

He smiled—a flash of white teeth and just the hint of one dimple that had driven one of his high school girlfriends to rhapsodize over it on the bathroom wall at the stadium in haiku.

“Works for me,” he said. “It’s a date.”

Jack was already inside his cruiser by the time I got my mouth closed. I had a feeling I’d just been manipulated by a master.

“Dead body,” I reminded myself. “Priorities.” I slammed the car door shut and started the engine.
Inhale and exhale
. Breathing gave me something to think about the whole way back to the funeral home. I was alive. That was the only thing that mattered. Everything else could wait.

Graves Funeral Home was on the corner of Catherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn. It was a three-story Colonial monstrosity with dark red brick and huge white columns. Two gnarled elm trees with roots that clawed up from the ground like bony fingers arched from either side of the sidewalk to form a canopy of sorts. The branches were as bare as the rest of the yard.

Across the street was a strip mall, and by the looks of it, it had fallen on hard times. The bad economy had hit King George pretty hard since most of our businesses were small and locally owned. Three of the four stores had For Rent signs in the windows. Only the Laundromat had survived. Nothing much else on the street had changed.

The funeral home brought in just enough income to keep the creditors at bay. There’d been a short time where I thought the FBI was going to shut it down for good, but they’d been satisfied to confiscate the funds they’d found in different offshore accounts once they’d cleared my name and decided I’d had no idea what my parents had been up to. They’d let me keep the funeral home, my family home and the cabin in the Poconos, since those were inherited properties left by my grandparents. I personally would’ve preferred they’d taken the ramshackle house and left me with the millions, but I hadn’t gotten a say in the matter.

Despite the name, Bloody Mary wasn’t overrun with deaths—violent or otherwise. So I spent more time doing crossword puzzles and watching reruns of
Law and Order
than I cared to admit.

Daylight was in full swing by the time I made my way into the Bloody Mary city limits. King George County was set up in a triangular grid that backed up to the Potomac River on one side and was hemmed in by the Rappahannock on the other. It was divided into four towns. Bloody Mary and King George Proper sat along the Potomac shoreline, and Newcastle and Nottingham were down below. The Square sat in the middle so parts of it were in each different city. There were only 19,000 people that made up the population, but sometimes it seemed awfully crowded.

I ignored the stares from those who were out early or heading into work. An empty school bus passed me, and I realized I’d completely lost track of what time of the year it was. I’d been living on autopilot, from one day to the next, going through my parents’ belongings and the documents I’d discovered. I hadn’t really been living these past months at all. Just trying to get through to the next day.

There was still too much winter left for spring to have made an appearance, but the weather would turn to warmer temperatures in the next week or two. I’d be glad for it. It seemed like I’d been cold for too long.

Jack’s cruiser was parked in the circular drive in front of the funeral home, and the ambulance had pulled underneath the metal portico attached to the side of the building. I’d learned from experience it wasn’t a good idea to traipse fresh corpses through the main lobby, so we always used the side door.

The door was larger than average and had a ramp that led directly into the private kitchen. And inside the kitchen was the reinforced steel door that led to the lab. The side door was propped open and they’d already wheeled the body inside by the time I got out of the Suburban.

Jack knew the code to get down to the lab, so I decided to stay out of the way for the moment—or maybe I was stalling—and instead went in through the front entrance. The temperature wasn’t much warmer on the inside. I’d had the electricity turned off before I’d left, but someone had turned it back on, and I could hear the low hum of the heater. That would have been Jack’s doing. The dark wood floors had been polished to a shine and the front foyer smelled of lemons and beeswax.

The first floor consisted of a chapel, two small family rooms and a large kitchen. A wide staircase sat in the middle of the foyer and led up to an open loft and balcony that was used to serve refreshments or light meals if the family requested them. Three private viewing rooms surrounded the loft, and then another set of stairs was hidden off a small hallway where the bathrooms were located. I hadn’t been up to the third floor in years, but if it was going to be my new home I’d have to get over the fact that sleeping in the same house with the dead had always creeped me out a little. Though the thought of sleeping in my old house creeped me out even more, so it was the lesser of two evils in this case.

“Thanks for opening it up for me and having it cleaned,” I said as I heard Jack’s footsteps come up behind me. “It makes it easier.”

“Yeah, well, if I’m being honest, it was Vaughn’s idea.”

I’d dated Vaughn for a few weeks in high school, but it was short-lived since he also discovered he was gay during the same few weeks. I’d already decided he made a much better friend than
boyfriend
, but that was mostly just for my ego since it sounded better than me having the ability to turn men gay. He was just one of the gang now—me, Jack, Eddie, Dickie and Vaughn—the Five Musketeers. Jack and Eddie were the only two in the group who weren’t completely dysfunctional, but we didn’t hold it against them too much.

Jack cleared his throat. “You know he always thinks of that kind of stuff before the rest of us. Me and Eddie and Dickie just did what we were told. Vaughn thought it would be nice for you to come back to a place without dust and mice.”

“Mice?” I asked, whirling around to face him.

“Only a couple of little ones,” he said, holding up his thumb and forefinger to demonstrate. “The exterminator has already been out, and you should be vermin free. Even the third floor.”

“Oh,” I said, thinking of what else might be waiting for me on the third floor. “Thanks. To all of you.” The silence was only awkward for a moment.

“Come on,” Jack said, holding out his hand and waiting patiently for me to take it. I stared at it a few seconds and then reached out to take hold. I reminded myself it was only Jack and it kept the panic at bay.

“Come where?” I asked.

“Let’s go up and check it out.”

“You mean the third floor?”

“Yep.”

“The same third floor where my great-grandmother was pushed to her death?”

“The one and only. She probably won’t even haunt you, since you’re family and all.”

“Maybe it’s not such a good idea. Have I told you that none of the women in my family have lived past the age of fifty? My great-grandmother was only thirty-six.”

“Then you’ve got a few years in you yet. Besides, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. This is called facing your fears. You won’t lose all that tension in your shoulders until you do.”

“I’m pretty sure I won’t lose the tension in my shoulders until I’m six feet under,” I said, dragging my feet a little. “I need to get started on the body. There’s no need to do this now.”

“What are you, chicken?” Jack asked, making
bwakking
sounds until I felt the challenge of facing a dare surge through my blood. My feet took the stairs two at a time as Jack came up behind me. I’d
never
been able to resist a dare.

“You’re so juvenile,” I said. “You making those ridiculous sounds is not the reason I’m doing this.”

“Sure it’s not,” he agreed.

“I’m just trying to appease you so I can get to work.”

“I’m like an open book to you,” he said with a straight face. “You know me too well.”

I stopped at the bottom of the third floor stairs and narrowed my eyes at him, but he kept smiling so the one dimple at the corner of his mouth appeared. When had the damned thing become so distracting? Why was I even noticing?
I averted my eyes quickly and instead focused on the stairs. The carpet runner was faded blue with small gold roses and it was a lot skinnier than I remember it being as a child. I hadn’t stepped foot on the third floor since I was a child and had scared myself witless by listening to Jack and Dickie tell ghost stories about it.

“I’ve been up,” Jack said softly. “There’s nothing there except a few pieces of furniture covered in sheets. I’ll get the guys to help move whatever you need from your house so you can get settled.”

“That’s good.” My throat had seized and the words barely came out. Jeremy Mooney had broken my voice, the doctors had told me. It would never be the same as it was. I’d never be able to sing badly to Madonna on the radio or scream at football games. But at least I could speak. I swallowed a couple of times and my hand clamped around the stair rail.

“There’s no need to do this now,” I said. “I’d rather just get to work. It doesn’t matter where I sleep.”

What I’d left unspoken was that I hardly slept at all—when I did manage to finally nod off, it was from sheer exhaustion, and only for short amounts of time.

Jack took my hand again and I tensed, but he waited until he felt me relax inch by inch. He pulled me closer until I stood flush with his body and he just waited. Waited as dizziness swept over me and claustrophobia surrounded me. He waited until the fear passed and I was left with nothing but the light and him. I leaned my head against his shoulder and his arms came around me. This time there was no tension at the touch. It was just the two of us.

“Why won’t you let me help, Jaye? You think I can’t see your terror every time I get close? I can feel you trying to pull away from me and deal with this on your own, but I’m not going to let you. It’s going to take time to heal. For all of you to heal, not just the physical. You almost died.”

His hands stroked my back in soothing circles and my arms came around him, holding tighter and tighter as I tried to find an anchor for the emotions rioting through my body. Yes, I feared. But I also needed to be held. Hadn’t realized how much I needed it until just now. Warmth and something else infused my body.

He ducked his head so his lips were against my ear, and I shivered at the touch. “Whether you want to hear it or not,” he said. “I love you. I’m not going to just sit by and watch you wither away.”

I stiffened in his arms at the mention of the L word. I cared about Jack more than anyone else I’d ever known, including my family. Jack
was
my family. But there were lots of different kinds of love, and neither of us had a good track record when it came to the emotion. What if I let myself love him and he changed his mind? I’d never had to do without him in my life. Or worse, what if I let myself love him and he was taken from me like Brody had been taken from me?

“Shh,” he said. “Don’t tense up. I’m not going to push you or pressure you, Jaye. I’m just going to be your friend for now. And I’m going to keep loving you, no matter how stubborn you get. Now nod if you understand.”

A strange sound came from my throat that was supposed to be a laugh but sounded more like a wheezing wild animal. I nodded and felt something break loose inside me.

It felt a little like hope.