Chapter 6
6
Jeremy was still laughing as he stepped out of the hospital and into the sunshine. After months of thinking that Cora had no sense of humor and possibly never smiled, the sight of her coffee mug proved him wrong. He couldn’t believe it when his gaze dropped to the large, oversized mug and read the words printed on the side. Rigor Mortis… the original yoga pose.
He climbed into his SUV and shook his head. He didn’t understand why it was vital for him to discover humor behind her owlish eyes, but for whatever reason, his mood lightened.
As soon as he walked into the ESDTF offices in a section of the North Heron County Sheriff’s Department, he was met by Pete, who immediately wanted to review the report.
“We’re working with Brad and Mark on this one. They’re waiting on the report you got from the medical examiner.” Pete halted and lifted a brow. “That is if you were able to deal with the formidable Dr. Wadsworth without suffering from her lack of interest in your charm.”
He bit back the snappy retort he usually offered. Instead, the thought of her handling the grieving family members with such care filled his mind. “We did just fine. She was good with Mr. Rudolph’s son and offered us a conference room for me to interview him.”
Now, both of Pete’s brows lifted. “Damn. You must be finally breaking down her iciness.”
“Who are you talking about?” Brad asked as he and Mark walked into the room.
Jeremy opened his mouth to deny they were discussing anyone when Pete jumped in. “Dr. Cora Wadsworth, the ME.”
“She’s good, isn’t she?” Brad asked, nodding. “Always so efficient and gets the reports to us before we have to ask for them.”
“Karen has met her a few times at the hospital when one of her patients died, but she’s really impressed with Cora,” Mark added.
Jeremy knew Mark’s wife, Karen, was a home health nurse, and her path would have reason to cross with Cora.
Pete laughed and shook his head. Before turning his attention back to Jeremy. “Seems like you’re the only one who thought she was the dragon lady with a stick up her ass.”
Once again, he opened his mouth to refute his partner when Brad and Mark looked at him in surprise.
“She’s just quiet,” Brad said. He then snorted and added, “Not exactly your type, but she really is nice.”
“Karen mentioned Cora is very businesslike, but in her line of work, that’s probably best,” Mark added.
“Can we please get off the medical examiner and what I do or don’t think about her?” Jeremy grumbled.
It didn’t miss his attention that Brad, Mark, and Pete shared a look before all three nodded. Pete grinned as he waved his hand toward the hall. “Then let’s find a room and get to work.”
Soon, the four of them were sitting around the table, their tablets in front of them, reviewing Cora’s report.
Pete looked at the list. “Damn, that was some haul that Fred Rudolph was carrying. And he wasn’t taking the meds that were prescribed to him. Where the hell did he get all those pills, and what was he doing with them? Selling them is the only answer.”
“Probably so.” Jeremy nodded. “But from what we know, he doesn’t fit the profile of someone collecting and selling drugs on the black market. I want to talk to his buddies and look at the past few who have died. I want to know if there is any connection.”
Brad said, “Get that info on the board as soon as you have it. Terry and Colt said the state police would add someone to this case if needed. They and Liam want to be kept updated.”
Terry Bunswick was their direct boss as the Captain for the ESDTF. Colt Hudson was the Sheriff of North Heron County, and Liam Sullivan was the Sheriff of Acawmacke County. The ESDTF covered both counties. Jeremy liked working for Terry, finding him a combination of fair and tough, both necessary in his job.
“There has got to be something that connects these deaths besides just being elderly and not taking their medication. We need to find the link,” Jeremy said.
“We can get the DEA to see if they’ll trace the pill numbers back to the pharmacy, but chances are, they have a backlog, and God only knows how long that will take,” Pete said.
“Is that something our intrepid medical examiner can do?” Brad asked.
“If that’s not her job, I hate to add more work to her,” Jeremy said, surprised that he thought of her workload.
“We could always ask. She can say no,” Mark tossed out.
“I wonder if we could go directly to our local pharmacies? If we get the prescription numbers from each pill from Cora, then we could at least find out if any of the drugstores on the shore were the ones who prescribed them.”
“Sounds good,” Pete said. He turned to Jeremy and asked, “Do you want to be the one to talk to her? Since it seems you’ve finally had a conversation with her when she didn’t want to tell you to get lost.”
The others chuckled as Jeremy flipped off his partner. Standing, he grinned as he headed out the door.
As he drove back to the hospital, Jeremy glanced at the time. It was almost noon, and he thought about stopping to grab some lunch to go. As soon as that idea settled into his mind, he wondered if bringing lunch to Cora would also be appropriate. He had no idea what her work schedule was like but assumed that showing up with food would be seen as a positive.
He pulled into a strip mall near the hospital for a quick stop at one of the sandwich shops. Once inside, he offered a chin lift to the young woman behind the counter, then looked up at the multitude of choices. It dawned on him that not knowing anything about Cora’s food likes, dislikes, or allergies—shit, this idea might not have been good.
The girl grinned at him, saying, “We’ve got chicken salad on special today. It’s really good. It’s made with fresh roasted chicken, and the cook seasoned it perfectly.”
His stomach growled, and he nodded. “Sold. I’ll take two of your chicken salad sandwich specials, a couple of bags of chips, and um... I guess a couple of sodas.” While she was fixing the sandwiches, a rueful chuckle slipped from his lips as he realized he not only had no idea what sandwich Cora might want to eat, but he didn’t know if she’d eat chips or drink soda. Shaking his head, he decided it didn’t matter. He could take it home if she refused his offerings. Glancing to the side, he spied the case of sweets. If I have to eat it all, I might as well add the dessert. “Throw a couple of cookies in there, too.”
Now, walking out with the bag of food and drinks, he jumped back into his vehicle and drove the short distance to the hospital. A different receptionist sat at the desk, and he went through the identification process to gain admission before heading down the hall to the morgue. Once there, he repeated their procedures for entering.
This time, he recognized Carl. “Dr. Wadsworth doesn’t know I’m coming, but she and I were going over the report from Mr. Rudolph this morning. I was hoping I could ask her a few more questions.” He held up the bag and said, “I even brought her an offering.”
Carl laughed and nodded. “That’s good ‘cause half the time she forgets to eat. She’s in the middle of an autopsy right now. A man passed out earlier in the ER and died before he even had a chance to get to the admissions desk. As a matter of practice, a cause of death needs to be determined so that the relatives will be satisfied that he didn’t die of any neglect here at the hospital.”
Jeremy nodded his understanding. “Do you know how much longer she’ll be?”
“Let me check.” Carl walked through another set of doors and, after a few minutes, came back. “She said she doesn’t have too much longer to completion. If you want to suit up, you can come into the room. She can answer your questions as she finishes.”
Jeremy perked up, glad to be able to present his request without further delay. Carl looked down at the bag and said, “You can’t have food in the autopsy room, but you can leave it here.”
Jeremy leveled him with a lifted brow glare.
Throwing his hand up in mock surrender, Carl laughed. “I promise I won’t touch it.”
Jeremy grinned and put the bag of food and drinks behind the desk. Then he followed Carl through the double doors, down a short hall, and through another set of doors.
“You can suit up here,” Carl said, handing him a paper gown, mask, and rubber gloves.
After donning the necessary protective gown, gloves, and cap, Jeremy entered the autopsy suite through the indicated door. His eyes immediately landed on Cora. She looked as he’d seen her before—hair covered neatly, a paper gown over her scrubs, and safety glasses perched over her regular frames. Her gaze lifted to meet his, but he couldn’t read her expression with the eyewear obscuring her face.
His attention was quickly drawn to the body on the table. He hesitated, unsure of where to stand or what to do. He’d seen photographs of autopsies before, but the reality of it was something else entirely. His gaze caught on the Y-shaped incision running down the deceased’s chest and the rib spreader holding the cavity open. He watched as Cora placed an organ back inside the body with deliberate care.
She looked up, blinking as he took a step closer. Not being able to see her whole face felt like a disadvantage. As an investigator, Jeremy relied on reading people’s expressions and gathering insights from the small tells. Now, he wished he could see all of hers.
Her eyes narrowed slightly before she dipped her chin and greeted him dryly. “Detective Pickett. This must be my lucky day.”
The words, though simple, carried a hint of teasing that caught him off guard. He responded in kind, his tone light. “Dr. Wadsworth. The pleasure’s all mine.”
He glanced around the room, noting the other mortuary technician working methodically with what looked like tissue samples. Everything about the space was clinical and efficient, yet strangely still.
The technician turned to Cora, holding something he could only assume was an organ. She took it without hesitation, placing it back into the chest cavity with precise movements.
“Are you ready to close, Dr. Wadsworth?” the technician asked.
Cora nodded, reaching for the needle and sutures. Her movements were deft and practiced as she closed the incision. As she tied the final knot, she glanced up at Jeremy. “Your first autopsy?”
“I’ve seen them on camera before but not in person,” he admitted.
“Did you have any surprises?” she asked, her tone neutral as she returned the sutures to the technician.
He hesitated, feeling out of his depth but wanting to be honest. “You were… very respectful. Not that I would’ve expected anything less. It’s just that… I…” He floundered, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut.
Cora tilted her head slightly, her voice softening. “When I perform an autopsy, my mind is clinical, Detective Pickett. There are procedures and protocols to follow. I have a mental list of everything I need to do, check, and test. There’s no room for error because we often only get one chance to be thorough. But…” Her gaze met his, steady and unwavering. “I never forget that I’m working on a human being—someone who lived, hopefully laughed, and possibly loved.”
Jeremy blinked, taken aback by her words. It was the most she’d ever said to him, and for the first time, he felt he was seeing her—not just as a professional but as a person.
“The organs go back inside the body?” he asked after a moment, his voice quieter.
She nodded. “We return the person whole, as much as possible. Some religions require the body to be intact for burial. Even when that’s not a concern, it’s still respectful.”
Turning her attention to the technician standing just to Cora’s side, she said, “I’ve finished the dictation, Janice. If you see that it gets transcribed, I’ll review it, compare it to my verbal notes, and sign it.”
“No problem, Cora,” Janice said. “Was there anything specific I should note, considering the hospital attorney will be interested in case the family tries for litigation.”
“I haven’t finished running the blood work, but from all indications, he had a heart attack when he came into the ER. But his heart was nearly shredded with disease. He’s had heart attacks before. Small ones, probably. Enough to damage his heart, but we didn’t find anything in his medical record that suggested he’d been hospitalized. He certainly didn’t have a cardiologist, and there’s no record of any medication.”
Cora then looked at Jeremy and walked over to him, snapping her gloves off as she approached. She pulled off her mask and cap, nodding for him to do the same. He followed her example and placed his gown, mask, and booties into the trash bin.
“So what can I do for you?” she asked.
“I came for a favor, but you can easily say no. I realize you’re busy.” Now that her mask was off, he could focus on her face. Beautiful as always… and perhaps a little less stern than he’d seen in the past.
“Go ahead and ask,” she said, leaning her hip against the desk.
“You mentioned the DEA could tell which pharmacies the pills came from. We know that that request would not happen quickly. We plan to ask the local pharmacies in our two counties if they distributed any prescriptions. But to do so, we would need the exact names and numbers on the pills.”
She nodded but didn’t say anything.
Self-conscious, he reached back to squeeze his neck as he held her gaze. “Look, I know that it’s an imposition. I realize you have no time for?—”
His words halted as her lips slowly curved upward until a smile transformed her face from pretty to beautiful. She leaned closer, and his breathing ceased. But she simply leaned past him to reach her keyboard. With a few clicks, the printer next to him whirred to life. Snagging the papers, she held them out. “I had to make complete note of the pills.”
He looked at the printout, then chuckled. “Damn, Dr. Wadsworth. Is there anything you aren’t prepared for?”
She shrugged but remained quiet. “I hope that helps, Detective Pickett.”
“This is tremendous. Really… it saves so much time in our investigation.”
“I’m glad.” She hesitated, then added, “We’re all searching for the same thing—the truth. Mine is clinical. Not as exciting as your job, but?—”
“Necessary,” he supplied, noting how her eyes flashed appreciation. “Oh, before I forget, I brought lunch.”
She blinked, her chin jerking back slightly. “Lunch?”
“It was lunchtime, and I stopped to get a sandwich. Figured you might be working and need to eat, too.” Feeling more like himself, he grinned as she opened the door leading back to the morgue lobby.
“How did you know what I’d like to eat?”
Chuckling, they reached the reception area, and he picked up the bag behind the counter. “I didn’t, but I just got the special. A chicken salad sandwich.”
Her eyes widened as her nose wrinkled. “Oh…”
His cocky grin fell from his face as his eyes widened. “What’s wrong?”
“Um… that was the last meal had by the man I just performed the autopsy on.”
Sure he was turning green, Jeremy stammered, “Shit… oh… I… well…”
Cora burst out laughing and shook her head. “I wish you could see the look on your face. All that cockiness just disappeared.”
Brow furrowed, he grumbled. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”
“Sorry, I was just joking. It was mortuary humor… not very funny but amusing just the same. Anyway, I love chicken salad.”
Jeremy recovered quickly at the sight of her mirth, glad to see her smiling.
She reached for the bag and peered inside. “Sandwich, chips, a cookie, and a drink? This is more lunch than I ever have.” She lifted her face to him, her smile still in place. “Thank you, Detective.”
“No problem, Doctor.” He held her gaze again, then dipped his head, turned quickly, and walked out with the report she’d printed for him. And once again, he left the hospital with a smile on his face.