Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
AMELIA
Amelia sucked in a breath.
Fuck.
A.J.’s gaze was focused on the mask she had hung on the hook by her office. Something in his expression worried her.
Ten years was a long time. There was no way he could know who she was by a simple face mask, was there?
What were the chances he even remembered that night?
Her gut instinct screamed pretty damn good!
at her. Amelia was no detective but she did her fair share of investigating and science doesn’t lie.
The science right now—the way he studied the mask, the darkening of his eyes as though he’d returned someplace he visited often, and the near literal crackle of electricity charging the air around them—indicated he knew exactly who she was.
Amelia swallowed against the lump forming in her throat and forced herself to focus on the body on the table, not the man standing so close to her she could feel his warmth.
Maybe he just found it to be interesting. She’d run with that theory for now and hope for the best.
“My mom gave me that for my high school graduation.” Amelia forced a little laugh.
“My parents liked to travel and she found it at a thrift shop in London. Swore it was original from the Great Plague but I found the tiny “inspected by” sticker inside the beak about ten years ago. I never had the heart to tell her though.”
He nodded slowly and turned to look at her, something insanely sexy—and familiar— flashing deep in his eyes. “I bet it’s a great conversation piece at parties.”
The way his voice deepened with a husky grit on the word party sent a rapid fire of images flashing through her mind like an old-fashioned picture show. “I suppose it would be.”
She hated how breathless she sounded.
Pull yourself together, girl!
Amelia stepped over to the body on the table and pulled the white sheet away. A.J. followed her, standing a little too close for comfort. It made Amelia’s skin heat even more. If he touched her, the electricity building between them might become explosive.
Clearing her throat, Amelia motioned to the victim.
“I’ll start with the easy stuff first. There’s bruising around his neck, indicating he was strangled with the scarf while still alive.
See those little red lines in his eyes? Petechia are generally caused by suffocation—in this case probably from strangulation.
I will confirm when I open him up and check the hyoid bone.
If that’s cracked it will confirm strangulation as manner of death. ”
A.J. stood very close to her. Close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body in the chilly lab. She felt his stare burning into the back of her head.
“I’d bet you dinner that it will be snapped clean in two.” His warm breath grazed the back of her neck.
Was he asking her out? Oh hell.
“It would be a very unfair bet,” Amelia responded. “The hyoid is just a formality at this point. My gut says this is exactly what it looks like.”
“I don’t know. I think maybe the vic was hiding something and his date found out. She—
or he—wasn’t too happy when they figured it out.”
Amelia took a step to the left, finally putting some much-needed space between her and A.J. She could no longer breathe correctly when he was so close.
“Everyone is entitled to a secret or two.” She toward the victim’s genital area. “The date was most likely with a woman though.”
A.J. frowned. “How do you know?”
She pulled the bright light down close, illuminating the man’s penis. “See? Right there? That’s lipstick.”
“I don’t see anything.”
“For a detective, you aren’t very observant.” She meant it to sound derogatory but failed miserably, evident by his smile. “Woman or man aside, I’m guessing he wasn’t expecting what came next with his date.”
“He got a happy ending before he died.” A.J. shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that.”
Amelia lifted the dead man’s right hand and inspected the fingernails. “I think he might have gotten a piece of his killer.”
She walked over to a rack on the wall and grabbed a few items. “I’m going to scrape the tissue under the nails—see if we can’t get a DNA hit in CODIS.”
A.J. cleared his throat, motioning to the man’s genital area. “Any idea why the necktie…?”
“Honestly, I have no idea but I’m pretty sure it was an afterthought to the strangulation.”
“Oh?” A.J. said. “Why do you think that?”
“There was no blood pooled in the tip above the tie. It’s also—as I’m sure you’ve noticed—not exactly standing at attention.” She laughed as A.J. shifted his stance and grimaced. “Don’t worry, he didn’t feel that one. His heart had already stopped.”
Before A.J. could reply, his cell phone rang. Amelia picked up a scalpel as he fished it from his pocket and answered the call.
Just as she began her first incision, A.J. hung up the phone. “I’ve gotta run. I’ll check back with you later for an update.”
Amelia nodded. “There’s a stack of business cards on the desk over there. My cell is on it. Save yourself a trip here and call me. It’s Sunday. I want to go home sooner rather than later.”
He walked over to the desk, grabbed a card and tucked it in his jacket pocket. “Thanks, Doc. I’ll talk to you soon.”
She grunted in frustration over his insistence at calling her Doc. “I’ll be here until about noon. After that I’ll be at home.”
The heavy steel door echoed its slam through the lab as he exited. Why had she just knowingly given her personal number to him?
Because you really want him to call.
Turning on the radio, loud, to drown out her own thoughts and let her focus on the autopsy at hand, Ameila got to work.
She was cleaning up when a weather report came on.
Snow.
Three to five inches.
This was the second snowfall of the season already and they rarely even got one per winter. The ocean usually kept things too warm. Three to five inches would shut the city down.
Amelia cleaned the rest up quickly, dropped some samples by the toxicology lab and headed home. With any luck the snow would bury the streets and Detective Gibbs would lose her number.
Except that she really did want to see him again. Maybe they could both stop dancing around the fact that they knew exactly who the other is and clear the air.
After all, they now had to work together indefinitely because she wasn’t leaving this job and it was very unlikely that A.J. would be leaving anytime soon, no matter how uncomfortable things became.
Small white flakes began to flutter down from the grey sky as Amelia drove home. If A.J. called her that night, she would definitely tell him who she was. Or, at least confirm it. Her gut told her the mask had pretty much given her away.
Amelia smacked her palms against the steering wheel. “Out of all the cities in the country, why the actual fuck did I choose this one?”
A.J.
The forecast called for snow. It had been many years since he moved to the coast and never in recent memory had they experienced more than a dusting or so, usually in deep January or early February. Early November? He might just start believing in global warming for that.
A.J. checked the time on his phone for the tenth time in the last hour. Trying to weigh the best time to call Amelia under the guise of work versus his desire to be near her again wasn’t going well.
“Get it together, dude. You’re acting like a teenager.”
Saying the words out loud in his living room did nothing but make him feel foolish. When did he become such a dumbass?
Outside, the sky had become a dark, heavy grey. The chill seeped in to the apartment announcing the impending snow storm with a vengeance.
Maybe he should just drive to her condo.
Thanks to the internet, he knew she’d move in down by ocean.
Then he could get the updates and make sure she had everything she needed to get through the aftermath of the snow.
Anything more than an inch or two would shut the city down and if Amelia didn’t have supplies, it could be a long few days for her.
It would be the nice thing to do. Or, so he told himself.
Just like after a hurricane, snacks and drinks would be essential for sanity.
That’s what he’d do—grab some food, maybe some Mexican for tonight and swing by Amelia’s place to drop them off and get the autopsy feedback.
Information he could realistically wait until the next day for, but who’s paying attention?
Not to mention, he’d bet her a dinner the hyoid was busted. The autopsy results would back him up on that. No harm in being proactive and bringing her dinner like the gracious winner he was.
The level of how much he wanted that to happen surprised even him.
A few stray snowflakes drifted down in front of the picture window. Against the backdrop of darkness, they appeared almost velvety. Growing up in central New York though, A.J. knew that meant they were sticky and fluffy. A huge indicator of the mess that was about to ensue.
Deciding it was in his best interest to get dinner and to a store sooner rather than later, A.J. pulled on a hat and the warmest jacket that he had.
An hour later, he pulled up in front of the oceanfront condo building that Amelia had recently moved into. Finding her address was the easy part. Making himself get out of his truck, knock on her door and tell her who he was—that felt nearly impossible.
Snow still fell, heavier and faster than before. The roads already held a cover of white despite the layers of brine that coated them earlier in the day.
A.J. had never seen the boardwalk are so empty. As he stepped from his car, the heavy silence enveloped him—the only sound being the gentle crunch of the snow as he crossed the street to the front door of Amelia’s building.
The lobby was empty and very warm, adding to the heat the adrenaline pulsing through his veins created.
A.J. shook the snow from his shoulders as he stomped his sneakers against the large mat in the entrance area. Pulling off the hat he still wore, he shook the snow off that too before shoving it in a pocket.
Amelia’s condo was on the seventh floor. He pushed the up button for the elevator. The door opened almost immediately; giving him absolutely no time for a silent pep talk. A.J. took a deep, steadying breath in an effort to calm his pounding heart and stepped into the elevator car.
The silence outside was completely eliminated by the sounds of the elevator. Grinding gears, the tick off of each floor with a ding and the sound of his pulse pounding in his ears added to the anxiety over what he was about to do.
As the car slowed to a stop at the seventh floor, he swallowed hard and took another deep breath. He could do this. If he didn’t, he’d have to quit his job and move to another state because there was no way he’d be able to work with her if he didn’t.
A.J. let out a nervous laugh as the doors slid open, then he froze.
Standing in front of him holding a bag of trash in one hand, the other reaching to push the down button was Amelia.
Her mouth fell open in shock. “What are you doing here?”
Good question. What was he doing there?
He held up the bags he carried. “I owed you a dinner.”
His voiced sounded strained; nervous. A.J. stepped out of the elevator.
“Dinner?” Amelia stared at him confused.
“The hyoid was snapped, wasn’t it?” Finally, he sounded back in control. He grinned. “I also brought storm supplies.”
“Storm supplies?” She looked and sounded even more confused. “I was taking out the trash.”
A.J. laughed. “I can see that.”