The Angel of Death (8 page)
Read The Angel of Death Online
Authors: Alane Ferguson
“I think I know exactly what you mean.”
“You do?”
He nodded again. It seemed as though he was about to say more, but suddenly, Justin appeared in the kitchen. This time the deputy crooked his finger at Cameryn, announcing, “I found the leak—it was Dwayne Reynolds. I guess once he heard the news the story spread like wildfire. It just shows you how fast gossip travels in a small town. Anyway, Lyric and Adam want to talk to you before they go. I told her you were working, but Lyric, dramatic as ever, says it’s
really
important. They’re waiting for you outside. ” He glanced from Cameryn to Kyle, then back to Cameryn, frowning, his eyebrows creasing together, his lips pressed hard. “So, Cameryn, I guess you’re done in here.”
really
important. They’re waiting for you outside. ” He glanced from Cameryn to Kyle, then back to Cameryn, frowning, his eyebrows creasing together, his lips pressed hard. “So, Cameryn, I guess you’re done in here.”
“Okay, then.” She shut the notebook, useless since it had only two words written inside, and said, “Good luck, Kyle. I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah.” Kyle gave her a halfhearted wave. “See ya.” At that moment the sheriff’s voice thundered down the hallway, like a sonic boom. “Deputy Crowley—could you come back here? Now! ”
“I’ll be right there, sir! ” Justin called back. For the briefest moment, Justin stared at Kyle. Then he said, “Stay here, Kyle. Cameryn, you need to hurry. Your dad is waiting.”
“All right, all right, I’m going,” she said to Justin’s disappearing back. She stood, but before she could leave, Kyle touched her hand.
“Wait,” he said, his voice tentative. “I was wondering . . .” He straightened himself, his eyes locking onto hers. White commas indented the edge of his mouth, and with a start Cameryn realized he actually looked nervous. “I was thinking that later, maybe—would it be all right if I called you? I mean, so we could talk. About Mr. Oakes and what happened.”
Cameryn considered the possibility. Kyle O’Neil. Calling
her
. Last year the thought would have been elating. But as quickly as she entertained the thought, she dismissed it. She was barely keeping her inner life together as it was—one more thing added to the emotional levee, and everything would spill over. Now was not the time to hang with Kyle O’Neil any more than with Justin. What she’d decided before had been right. Sometimes it was better not to feel at all.
her
. Last year the thought would have been elating. But as quickly as she entertained the thought, she dismissed it. She was barely keeping her inner life together as it was—one more thing added to the emotional levee, and everything would spill over. Now was not the time to hang with Kyle O’Neil any more than with Justin. What she’d decided before had been right. Sometimes it was better not to feel at all.
She pulled her hand away, but it was as if his fingertip left a trace of energy, as if it had left its own electrical current on her skin. “You know, I’m actually not the best company right now,” she answered slowly. “There’s a lot going on in my life, apart from Mr. Oakes and all of this.
Actually, I’m kind of on overload. I wouldn’t be much help.”
He managed a half-smile. “I’m good with overload. Maybe what’s supposed to happen here is that we talk. Maybe I’m the one who’s supposed to help you.”
She shook her head, saying, “I don’t think so.”
“You’re sure?”
“It’s just a timing thing. I’m sorry, Kyle.”
Although he looked disappointed, he answered, “Not a big deal. If you change your mind, give me a call. I’m the only O’Neil in town.”
“I will. And Kyle, don’t let Justin get to you. The way the body looked has got everyone rattled.”
“I know it. This whole thing has definitely been surreal. ”
“Definitely,” she echoed.
She tried to untangle her thoughts as she left the house, but Cameryn had barely stepped outside into the pale November sun when she heard Lyric call out her name with such anguish it drove everything else from her mind.
“Cammie—I can’t even believe our teacher’s dead! ” she cried. “I just talked to him last week and—what
happened
in there?”
happened
in there?”
Hovering beyond the tape, no doubt exactly where Justin had ordered her to stay, stood Lyric, her plump cheeks red with emotion. Next to her slouched Adam.
He’d already lit a cigarette, a habit that both Cameryn and Lyric had tried to discourage. Inhaling deeply, Adam took the cigarette from his mouth and flicked his ash into some rocks lining the driveway. His black hair, dyed and parted in the middle, made him appear paler than he already was.
“Hey, Cameryn,” Adam said. “How goes it?”
“Well, to be honest, I’ve been better.”
“So you’re back on ghoul patrol. Is it true that Oakes sort of . . . exploded?”
“Don’t be insensitive,” Lyric chided. “You didn’t have Mr. Oakes, but I did and so did Cameryn. You know ever since I found out I’ve been crying my eyes out.”
“‘Crying your eyes out’ is a poor choice of words,” Adam replied blandly. “Under the circumstances.”
“Shut
up
!” Lyric demanded. “This isn’t funny.”
up
!” Lyric demanded. “This isn’t funny.”
“Okay, okay!” He held up his hands, his fingernails tipped in black, saying, “I was just trying to lighten the mood. Sorry if it was too much. Hey, come here,” he said. “It’s going to be okay.” Adam pulled Lyric close while she went limp against his shoulder. They were an odd pair, Cameryn thought—Lyric, with her ample frame, next to Adam, who was thin and sunken-chested, pale as milk. And yet they’d found each other, which meant that now Cameryn had to learn how to share her best friend. Ducking beneath the tape, she reached out and hugged Lyric until Adam stepped away.
“What happened to Mr. Oakes?” Lyric wailed. “How did he die?”
“We’re not sure. No one really knows anything yet. I was just interviewing Kyle O’Neil—”
“Kyle?” Lyric blinked back tears. “What’s he doing here?”
“Kyle’s the one who found Mr. Oakes. Look, I know you want answers, but at this point we haven’t got a clue what went on in that house. I promise, though, we’ll find out.”
“It’s all so horrible. I mean with the eyes—”
“I know,” she agreed. “But Lyric, I’ve got to get back inside. I’m actually getting paid, and I’ve got work to do, and I don’t want anyone to get upset with me. Are you okay now?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” Lyric snuffled loudly while Adam dropped his cigarette and crushed it beneath his heel. He was giving Lyric a strange look.
“Come on, Lyric,” he said. “Why don’t you tell her so Cammie can get back to work and we can go home?”
“That’s right,” Cameryn said. “Justin told me you had a message for me. What’s up?”
Lyric hesitated. She rubbed the palm of her hand across the apple of her cheek and blinked hard. It didn’t look as though she’d washed her hair that morning, so it lay flat against her skull, which made it appear as if blue fingers clutched her head.
“I don’t know if now is the time,” she began. “With all the other stuff going on.” She shot Adam a worried glance, then began. “I went back to the Grand to hang out with Adam while he was bussing tables, and then the phone rang. Adam gave the phone to me . . .” Her voice drifted off.
Cameryn urged her, “Just tell me. They need me inside.” At that moment her father appeared at the door, instructing Cameryn to bring in the gurney. Lyric waited patiently until Patrick was safely inside before speaking. “It was your mom again.”
Cameryn froze. “Hannah?”
Lyric nodded. “She thought you might be back. You’re supposed to be working. So she gave me the message instead.”
“What did she say?” Cameryn asked. She could feel her eyes going wide and scared.
“Hannah said to tell you . . .” Lyric hesitated.
With a quick backward glance, Cameryn put her arm around her friend and leaned her ear close to Lyric’s mouth. “
Tell
me,” she said softly. Cameryn’s entire head had begun to hum, as though a tuning fork had been placed beside her bones. Or maybe it was just the sound of her pulse.
Tell
me,” she said softly. Cameryn’s entire head had begun to hum, as though a tuning fork had been placed beside her bones. Or maybe it was just the sound of her pulse.
“She bought a car, Cam. She’s left New York.”
Another twang of the fork. Cameryn’s thoughts began to vibrate, louder.
“Hannah called it a pilgrimage. She said it might take a few days if she drove fast—a week at the most.”
“I—I don’t understand,” she stammered.
“Cammie, Hannah’s coming here. To meet you. She’s coming to Silverton. And she’s already on her way.”
Chapter Six
“SO I THINK the plan is for Sheriff Jacobs to marry Justin Crowley,” her father told her. “They’ve asked me to be the bridesmaid. I said I would do it.”
“Uh-huh,” Cameryn replied absently. She was staring out the window as they drove through downtown Durango, their station wagon making slow, steady progress through narrow streets jammed with cars. Banners sporting cornucopias and turkeys hung along Main Street, proclaiming the approach of the Thanksgiving holiday, while retail stores hopscotched past Thanksgiving directly to Christmas. On either side of the street, motorized Santas waved, reindeer nodded illuminated heads, lights festooned every shop window so that they glowed like a mini Las Vegas, and yet Cameryn registered none of it. Not even the body of her teacher, gently rocking in the back with every jolt of the car, could pull her from her thoughts. Hannah was coming to Silverton, and Cameryn’s mind could only repeat that fact, again and again.
“Did you know we Mahoneys come from a line of leprechauns that goes all the way back to the Druids?” Patrick asked. They were stopped at a light, and his hand gently touched her shoulder, startling her. Blinking, Cameryn stared at her father.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “What did you say?”
“I’ve been giving you a bit of the blarney, not that you’d notice. Where’s your head?” When he turned to look at her, his black knit turtleneck caught the hairs on the back of his neck.
“I’m just thinking.”
“About your teacher, Mr. Oakes.” Her father didn’t frame this as a question, so Cameryn nodded in agreement.
“About the autopsy,” he added.
She nodded again.
Patrick’s pale blue eyes became anxious, flicked toward her, then darted to the body bag in the station wagon’s bay before returning to her face. She could see him trying to work things out. As his fingers drummed the steering wheel, he mentally put the pieces together, adding up the numbers and getting the sum wrong. He thought she was upset by the body stiffening up behind her, thought she was grieving over her teacher.
Well, let him put two and two together and get fiv
e, she decided.
I don’t need questions right now.
Well, let him put two and two together and get fiv
e, she decided.
I don’t need questions right now.
“Listen to me, Cammie: There’s no shame in backing out of an autopsy. I’ve told you before, if you’re going to be able to handle the slice-and-dice, you’ve got to detach.”
Funny,
Cameryn thought.
That’s exactly what I’m doing.
Another click inside, and she separated herself again, as though she were a mirror that could be split into smaller and smaller pieces, each bit able to refract an ever-shrinking image. A part of her worried that she might become too fractured to ever be whole again, that her emotions were shards that would have to be reassembled later.
Cameryn thought.
That’s exactly what I’m doing.
Another click inside, and she separated herself again, as though she were a mirror that could be split into smaller and smaller pieces, each bit able to refract an ever-shrinking image. A part of her worried that she might become too fractured to ever be whole again, that her emotions were shards that would have to be reassembled later.
“It’s out of the ordinary for Moore to do the autopsy on a Saturday,” her father was saying, shifting gears. “When I called him he said, ‘Fascinating case, Patrick. Bring the remains down and I’ll get right on it.’ It’s amazing he’s agreed to work on his day off, but I guess the MEs do that sometimes.”
“Bet he’ll bill Durango double for working on Saturday, ” Cameryn said, relieved the conversation was going in a different direction.
“No doubt.” Patrick cleared his throat and shot her a sideways glance. “Try not to antagonize him this time, okay?”
Cameryn felt her eyes go wide. “I won’t! I
didn’t
! ” “Ah, but you know that’s not true,” he countered. “If you recall, the good doctor threw you out of the last autopsy—”
didn’t
! ” “Ah, but you know that’s not true,” he countered. “If you recall, the good doctor threw you out of the last autopsy—”
“Okay, maybe I was a bit . . . aggressive . . . but I was right, wasn’t I?” She remembered the detail she’d discovered, and Moore’s violent reaction over Cameryn being the one to discover it. She remembered him swelling with rage and how he’d ordered her out of the room. But she also remembered that he’d helped, too, later, when it really counted. Dr. Moore was an enigma.
“All I’m saying is that sometimes life requires
diplomacy
. Moore can be an egomaniacal windbag, but he’s a great medical examiner and he’s going the extra mile with this case. Let’s not have any trouble today.”
diplomacy
. Moore can be an egomaniacal windbag, but he’s a great medical examiner and he’s going the extra mile with this case. Let’s not have any trouble today.”
“Whatever you say. Boss.” She flashed him a smile, a compensatory tactic that she hoped would calm him. It seemed to work. His features softened, especially his eyes, ice-blue and ringed in laugh lines that sprayed from the corners
.
.
“That’s right. I’m senior management. Try not to forget it, kid.”
“As long as I’ve got management’s ear, I’d like to put in for a raise.”
“Solve this case and we’ll talk.”
It felt good to be back in their rhythm, their father/ daughter banter. Even if they both knew it was forced.
The smile on her father’s face barely covered the worry that flowed beneath it, like a stream gurgling beneath the ice. The Mahoneys knew how to keep up appearances.
They had pulled into the back alley now, where the flat-roofed building squatted bleakly behind Mercy Medical Center. It was a structure so unremarkable it seemed impossible from its exterior to divine its real purpose— dissecting the dead and reading their entrails like the ancient oracles Mr. Oakes had told them about in class. The alleyway led to two metal doors, which rolled open when her father tapped his horn. Ben, the diener, waved his thickly muscled arms in the air, welcoming them inside. He wore faded green scrubs and running shoes spattered in what looked like dried blood. Cameryn noticed that he’d shaved his head so smooth his scalp gleamed, dark as chocolate.
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