Chapter Fourteen
Aram and I walked down the barren hallway toward the steel elevators. This man had been my world. His breakup had devastated me, but also changed how I proceeded with my new cautious life, that is, until Patrick.
I had finally moved on from Aram. But right now, with him beside me, memories rushed back with his charming smile, the shape of his lithe physique, and the way he walked, smooth and assured like a jaguar. I tried to act calm and unruffled, but my heart beat erratically.
I pushed the elevator button and dared to take a glimpse when we got in. His bright aqua eyes still captivated.
“How are you, June?”
His voice. Deep and warm. I hadn’t heard it in so long. It sounded like a replay of an old song. “I’m great, thanks,” I said. “How have you been? How is your wife?”
Considering my blunt question, I expected an awkward silence. But there wasn’t any.
Aram scrunched his brow as if he was carefully choosing his words. His words had always been wise. “I’ve been all right. I don’t know if you had heard, but for the past two years, I’ve been in Scranton, working at the University Hospital.”
“No, I hadn’t heard where exactly you were. You didn’t like it there?”
“I did. It was a very modern facility with all the latest technology.”
“Then why did you come back?” The elevator landed at zero, and the doors opened. I didn’t wait for an answer and got out. He followed me down the corridor, and I gestured to the right.
“This door leads to the locker room and showers. The number to the combination pad is 2-4-5-6. Do you want me to write it down for you?”
A corner of his mouth turned up. “No. I think I’ll be able to remember it.”
Of course, he’d be able to remember four numbers. I realized I was acting like a scorned shrew. This wasn’t me. We continued to the next door, and I punched in the entry code.
“This is the main entrance to the morgue,” I said in a softer, less formal tone as we entered a square tiled foyer. I pointed to the inner steel door. “Inside are the autopsy suites and the cooler drawers. We can house twenty-four bodies, and right now we are close to capacity. You’re going to be busy,” I added. My voice had trailed off. He made no move and had no hint of humor in his expression.
“I’m not afraid of a little work,” he said.
My mouth went dry. Why did it feel like nothing had changed, when in fact everything had changed? His lips parted slightly. Our gazes locked for a few seconds. Or was it an eternity?
“Do you want to go in and look around?”
“I’ve missed you,” he said in a low voice.
My breathing ceased. He missed me? There was a time when I had yearned for him and hoped he missed me too, in some minuscule way. I filled my lungs and became lightheaded.
The door from the main corridor flew open, and Vinny stormed in, holding a folder.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” he said. “Enjoying the tour, Dr. Hamid?”
“Immensely.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and fought for composure. “Since you’re here, Vin, I’ll let you take over. I have to head back upstairs.”
“Wait, June,” Vinny said and held up the file. “Did you fill Dr. Hamid in about the case you’re involved in?”
“Um, no, I didn’t,” I said. “It’s not really relevant.”
“It sounds extremely relevant,” Aram said. “Please, enlighten me.”
“Okay.” I swallowed. “Well, long story short, last week I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and was assaulted in front of a house in which a body was found.”
“Assaulted? How? Were you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” I said.
Aram’s eyes narrowed.
“No, really, I’m okay. I was just shoved to the ground.”
Aram pressed his lips in a tight line. He looked worried, or angry, or both. Did he still care?
“June, tell him how you’re connected to the victim in there,” Vinny said and pointed to the cooler.
“Yes, please tell me,” Aram said.
“After my spill I got up and noticed I had a few cuts, scratches, and Officer Verbeek took me to the hospital. As a precaution.”
“He did the right thing,” Aram said.
If Aram only knew. I tried to continue to focus on my explanation instead of him. “As it turned out, I had blood on my arm, but no injury. We figured out the blood wasn’t mine.”
“Then whose was it?”
“We’re performing DNA analysis on it, but we’re assuming it was the perp’s blood, or the victim’s,” Vinny said. “And the perp’s still on the loose.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Aram said. “Are those documents from the case?”
“Yes.” Vinny handed him the folder. “Mr. John Doe.”
Aram flipped through the paperwork. “Are there any photos?”
“They’re not in there?”
“No, none here.”
“I’ll have to check with the crime scene photographer about that.”
“Thank you, Vinny. If possible, I’d like to get started on this autopsy today.”
“That would help move the investigation along,” I said, feeling more excited than I let on.
“June, I’d like to ask you more questions about this case. It’d be highly beneficial because I think there’s more going on here than I know.”
“Sure, but I don’t know how much help I’ll be.” I backed up a step. “I really should return to the lab.”
“Tell Dr. Hamid what he needs to know, June. It’s all good. I’ll keep covering for you.” Vinny turned, and the steel door slammed behind him.
Aram and I were alone again. He rubbed the back of his neck. “June, I have a request, but feel free to refuse if it makes you uncomfortable.”
I stiffened and didn’t blink, afraid of the next words that would come out of his mouth.
“Would you be willing to assist me during the autopsy? Nothing heavy or too involved, just help with paperwork and collecting samples. And it would give us a chance to talk further about the case.”
I signed in relief. Naturally, his request was work related. Even though his request pertained to the case, I wanted to say no.
“I don’t have experience working down here, but sure, I’ll try to help in any way I can.”
“Wonderful. How about we meet back here in an hour?”
“Okay. One hour,” I said.
I burst into the stairwell and cringed.
Sure, Aram, I’ll help in any way I can?
Was today opposite day? I bound upstairs and went into an empty office beside the lab. If I was going to do this, I’d try to do it right.
I logged onto the computer and typed in “autopsy procedure.” I clicked on the images tab. Row upon row, photos popped up of bodies in various stages of dissection. My stomach twisted, and I clicked out of the screen. I chose an article on procedural steps.
Autopsy, also called postmortem or necropsy, is the examination of a deceased body’s anatomy and its organs…
The body is laid out on the examination table, appearance is noted…
Photographs and x-rays may be taken…
The pathologist makes a Y-shaped cut, from the shoulders, down the abdomen. Rib cage plate is removed. Organs are removed and sampled…
I clicked on images again. Never a fan of gore, these shots sickened my stomach. I logged off, seeing all I wanted to. I checked my watch and headed down to change into scrubs.
When I walked out of the ladies’ locker room, Aram exited the men’s at the same time. We both halted. Aram raised his brows and laughed.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he said.
“Yes, what are the odds?”
His smile diminished, and he scanned the hallway in each direction. “June, earlier you had asked a question in the elevator, and I never answered.”
I reached behind me to brace myself against the wall.
“Remember, you asked why I had returned from Scranton?”
I shrugged. “I was curious why you came back. It sounded like you enjoyed your new job.”
“I did. It was an excellent facility.”
Ever so slightly, he moved closer.
“But,” he said in a quieter voice, “I thought it would be best to return here after my divorce.”