What She Doesn't See (5 page)

“He wouldn’t leave his name. It was very
strange. He asked if today was your birthday. When I said no, he
asked when it was. I suggested he leave his name and number so you
could return his call and he hung up on me.”

Shannon was right, that was a little weird.
Alex couldn’t think of anyone she’d ticked off lately. “I suppose
if he really wants to know he’ll call back.” Alex started the
engine and backed out of the parking slot. Every business suffered
its share of cranks and jerks. “Did Marg ever come in?”

“Eventually,” Shannon said covertly.

Alex imagined Shannon craning her neck to
make sure Marg wasn’t listening. She didn’t like that Shannon and
Alex kept such close tabs on her. But it was necessary. When her
mother fell off the wagon Alex was the one to pick up the pieces.
Anytime Marg deviated from her routine, Alex went on alert. She’d
survived that journey far too many times already.

“Keep an eye on her.”

“Will do. What’s the favor you needed?”
Shannon asked.

“How about checking your sources for anything
on an explosion over in Morningside. It happened sometime late last
night or early this morning.”

Another call came in and Shannon promised to
get back to her ASAP.

Alex pulled out onto the street, her mind
rolling over the idea that Hitch was dead. She would miss him. If
she hadn’t found that stupid contact lens and called him about it,
maybe he’d still be alive. The part that really disturbed her was
the call from him last night. He’d sounded so animated. The guy who
did the analysis had to have given him substantial feedback to get
Hitch that pumped. And why had he driven toward Hallandale after
picking up the analysis? He didn’t live in that direction and
hadn’t mentioned taking the lens to anyone else before turning it
over to the lab this morning. It didn’t make sense.

The better question was why hadn’t he told
his partner?

Patton had been at the hospital welcoming his
new daughter into the world. Or maybe Hitch and his partner hadn’t
bonded closely enough for Hitch to share his obsession with all
things electronic.

The idea that something was wrong with the
whole scenario kept nagging at her.

Alex drove, her destination uncertain.
Hopefully Shannon would call soon with an exact location. No point
in checking out the crash site where Hitch’s car had been found,
the cops had already been over it and the car was in the hands of
forensics.

There was just one thing she could do right
now.

Go to the morgue.

The old guy who’d blown off half his head had
two eyes—or at least he had before he opted to discharge a .45 into
his skull. Most folks who chose contacts over eyeglasses wore two.
Maybe there was still one attached to the intact eye.

Anticipation fired through her. Only one way
to find out.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the cops to
do their job. She did, usually. But she’d been doing this job long
enough to know she didn’t have anything to shift their attention,
to make them look beyond the obvious. Cops operated under the rule
of probable cause and their investigations were based on hard
evidence, not speculation. Unless something at the scene of Hitch’s
crash looked suspicious or some foul play involving his car was
discovered, the case would be ruled accidental. Case closed.

Hitch had been a damned good cop. Not only
was he good at his job, he truly cared. That was precisely why he’d
chosen to run the contact lens through some preliminary analysis
when any other cop would probably have dismissed it. There really
wasn’t any reason to believe the contact lens was anything
relevant. Hitch suspected it might be electronic, but to her it was
just weird looking. But, because the lens was so unusual and Hitch
had a thing for all things techno, he had wanted to be sure. That
was just the kind of cop he was. Thorough. Dedicated. Maybe even a
little hopeful that he’d be the detective who busted some big spy
ring.

Damn she was going to miss that guy.

The Morgue Bureau, aka the medical examiner’s
office, was part of an imposing three building complex nestled amid
a couple of lushly landscaped acres on the perimeter of the
University of Miami Medical School Center. Tropical trees and
shrubs highlighted the meticulously cared for landscape. Inside,
the elegant furnishings, potted palms, soft lighting, and smiling
receptionist would almost make one think of a ritzy resort hotel.
At least until you read the mission statement above the front
desk:

To provide accurate, timely, dignified,
compassionate and professional death investigative services for the
citizens of Miami-Dade County
.

That stopped any warm, fuzzy feelings dead in
their tracks.

As far as Alex was concerned, the luxurious
details were wasted on most visitors to the Joseph H. Davis Center
for Forensics Pathology considering they were dead. But hey, the
place looked great. Didn’t even smell like a morgue. Special
electronic air filters erased the unmistakable odors of
formaldehyde and decomposing bodies.

Alex waved to the receptionist but didn’t
bother checking in. She’d visited enough times to know her way
around and headed straight for the work area of a friend, Cody
Feldman, an evidence courier. If he wasn’t in she’d just have to
try her luck with an assistant medical examiner who had been a good
friend of Hitch. Cody would be far easier to...
coax
into
doing what she wanted. He had a thing for Alex.

A smile stretched across her lips as she
recalled the last time they’d gone out. It had been a Friday night.
Dinner and a movie had been on the agenda but they’d never made it
out of her house.

What could she say? Cody was cute. He’d been
fun. Although they hadn’t dated in a while, she and Cody were still
friends. She ran into him now and again since they frequented the
same nightspots. It was good to have friends in all kinds of
places. It was also good to know how to use those connections to
one’s advantage when the need arose. She felt certain Hitch would
appreciate her efforts.

Alex poked her head through the open door to
his tiny office. “Hey, Cody.” At least someone had an office
smaller than hers.

He glanced up from his computer and did a
double take. “Alex.” A couple of medical journals and an empty foam
cup hit the floor as he shot up out of his chair. “What’re you
doing here?” He blushed. “I mean...”

Her smile made the transition into a
full-blown grin. The guy was adorable when he was all embarrassed
and looking flustered. Only a man under the age of twenty-five
could still do that and look so sweet. “Good to see you, too.”

He pushed his desk chair toward her. “Have a
seat.” Glancing around his cluttered space he couldn’t seem to
decide what to say next. Inspiration belatedly struck. “You want
some coffee? Nancy just made a fresh pot.” He hitched his thumb
toward the end of the hall where the lounge could be found. “She
makes the best.” He licked his lips and blinked as if he’d abruptly
drawn a big old blank.

Alex shook her head. “No thanks. I’m good.”
She moved a little farther into his territory, pushing the chair
out of her way as she went “I need to ask a favor,” she offered
humbly.

He opened his arms wide. “Sure.
Anything.’’

His face had gone from pink to red. Alex was
pretty sure he’d just remembered one night in particular when she’d
made him beg for mercy. That was the thing about being a mature
woman and dating a younger guy. They were so easily
entertained.

Alex took a moment to appreciate her friend’s
casually sexy appearance. His trousers were navy, one of her
favorite colors. His shirt was striped in a paler blue, yellow, and
green. The shirttail was untucked on one side. Not a fashion
statement, simply a result of his slightly nerdish predisposition.
The brown loafers were polished. His face was clean-shaven. His
dark hair was tousled and his gray eyes were clear and bright.

“You got a stiff last night—”

His eyes suddenly widened and his face paled
as if he’d been caught doing something that would get him seriously
grounded,

Alex laughed softly. “A dead guy.” She’d been
hanging around with too many cops and was picking up all their
slang.

“Oh.” The pink started to creep up from his
collar again. “We got five last night.”

She nodded. “Detective Louis Hitch worked
this case. Caucasian, in his late sixties or early seventies, took
a .45 to his head.”

“Yeah.” Recognition flared in his expression.
“I imagine that was a real mess.”

She shook her head. “I’ll never understand
why these guys don’t consider the mess they’re going to leave when
they opt for the bullet to the head route.”

Cody was nodding in agreement.

“You think it’d be a problem if I took a look
at the body?”

A flicker of hesitation had her hastily
adding, “The guy doesn’t have any family. And the cops have pretty
much closed the case. There’s just something I’m curious about
related to the cleanup.”

Still looking a little unsure, he said, “He’s
scheduled for the full treatment tomorrow morning. Letting you look
at him wouldn’t really be—”

“I swear I won’t do anything that’ll get you
in trouble. I just need to check one little thing.” She held her
breath, then quickly added in hopes of alleviating any final
reservations he might have, “It’s not like I haven’t already seen
him. He was still at the scene when I arrived for the cleanup.” The
full treatment was a no holds barred complete autopsy. Everyone got
the full treatment unless the family requested otherwise.

He checked his watch. “I don’t guess there’d
be any harm. Like you said you’ve already seen him.” He shrugged.
“Been in the same room with him.” Their eyes locked. “Just let me
make sure the cooler is…ah… clear.”

“I really appreciate it.” She gave him her
best you’re-my-hero look of gratitude.

“I’ll be back in thirty seconds,” he promised
as he backed out of his office.

She couldn’t be certain whether he backed out
because he was afraid she would follow him or if he feared she’d
disappear before he returned. A quick peek out the door confirmed
her conclusion that he would probably run the whole distance to the
cooler.

Leaning against the doorframe to watch for
his return she couldn’t help thinking that men were like puppies.
She adored them, but she didn’t want to have to clean up after one
on a regular basis. She liked her independence.

True to his word, Cody was back in about half
a minute. “This way.”

Alex let him lead the way though she knew the
route. Cody checked the log sheet and headed for the drawer where
Charlie Crane awaited two things, an autopsy and then for the State
to claim his body since there was no next of kin. En route her
guide pointed to a box of latex gloves stationed on a counter. Alex
had them in place before Cody had rested his hand on the pull of
the cooler drawer.

With one last fleeting look at the door, he
lugged the drawer open. As if having second thoughts, he hesitated
before lowering the zipper on the body bag. “Make it quick,
okay?”

“I will.”

He opened the bag that helped to keep the
body fresh while in a refrigerated state.

With the old guy’s upper torso and what was
left of his head fully exposed to her, Cody backed away. “I’ll keep
watch outside.”

She nodded and he left her to her
business.

It wasn’t that Alex got any kind of thrill
out of touching a dead guy, but this had to be done. Working
quickly, she first surveyed what was left of his head. His body was
nude so anything he’d had in his pockets would be beyond her reach
at this point. It would take an act of congress or proof of kinship
to get her hands on his personal effects.

The right eye remained intact and exactly
where it should be in its socket.

“Okay, Charlie,” she murmured. “Let’s have a
look.”

Gingerly, she lifted the eyelid and surveyed
the eyeball. She shuddered, couldn’t help herself. The body changed
drastically after twenty-four hours without blood flowing through
the veins. The skin looked gray with the slightest marbling effect
deep beneath the surface. The eyes were cloudy, the pupils fully
dilated. The flesh was cold—that was the worst. Nothing smelled as
creepy as chilled flesh. Her stomach knotted.

Kicking aside her squeamishness, she touched
the eyeball, sliding the pad of her gloved finger over it. Nothing.
Frowning, she checked again just to be certain. If he’d been
wearing a second lens, it was gone now.

“Damn it.”

She zipped the bag carefully and closed the
drawer. For a moment, she just stood there feeling sad for him. No
one should die alone.

Hitch had died alone.

The idea that she might very well die that
way made her stomach spasm all over again. Of course there was
always the chance her mother would outlive her. But what if she
didn’t?

Would she end up in the morgue with no family
to claim her?

Nah. Shannon would claim her and see that she
got a proper funeral. At least as long as she was still
breathing.

Despite her chosen career, this was the first
time Alex could recall consciously considering what would happen to
her when she died. Other than the usual decomposition, that is.

This whole thing with Hitch had really shaken
her up.

Alex peeled off the gloves and disposed of
them as she crossed the room. She opened the door and Cody whipped
around with a start.

“Finished?” He tried to look calm and
composed but he didn’t fool her. He’d been sweating every second of
the three or four minutes she’d been in there.

“Yeah. Thanks, man, I owe you.”

Between that announcement and the whoosh of
the door closing behind her, he relaxed. He looked downright ready
to melt into a puddle of equal parts need and relief.