Chapter 12
12
Cora walked along the beach at the back of her property. There was no one else around, just the way she liked it. Her mind rolled to her job, a career she loved, was necessary, and she found it fulfilling. She considered herself fortunate because many people never had that. When dealing with death, it was easy to take on the emotions of the relatives in the first throes of grief. To say grief happened to us all would be accurate, but it didn’t make the pain any less. She knew that firsthand.
There was a nip in the air, but the blue sky and sunshine made her glad she’d brought a beach towel. After spreading it out over the sand, she plopped down, stretched her jean-clad legs out, and leaned back against her arms with her palms at the edge of the blanket. She closed her eyes as she tilted her head back, soaking in the late afternoon rays of sun.
The gentle surf washing up upon the beach almost lulled her to sleep while she was still sitting up. After a while, she began to hear a different sound, almost as though something was hitting the surface of the water. She dropped her chin and opened her eyes, taking a minute for them to adjust to the light.
A lone kayaker was coming closer. She blinked, uncertain why with all the empty beach around, a kayaker would choose right where she was sitting as the place they wanted to land. She was prepared to return to her house, not wanting to be with an unknown man on an empty beach.
She stood, bent to snag the towel, and shook it to loosen the sand. Before she could turn and leave, her name was called out, “Cora!”
She whirled around and lifted her hand over her eyes to knock out the glare from the setting sun, slowly bringing the kayaker into focus. Jeremy!
He climbed from his kayak and walked toward her, dragging it behind him until he had left the bay and stood nearby, water dripping from his wetsuit. The scent of the bay mixed with the faint saltiness of his damp wetsuit and the warmth radiating from him seemed at odds with the coolness of the evening air. His smile was wide as his gaze swept over her from head to toe, and she had to admit it was infectious as she smiled in return.
“Detective Pickett,” she greeted. It hadn’t missed her attention that he’d used her first name.
“Hello,” he replied, grinning. “And surely you can call me Jeremy. Detective Pickett sounds so formal out here.”
She dipped her head in acquiescence and smiled in return. “Okay, Jeremy. But I have to ask, what brought you here?”
His smile remained. “You mean, how did I end up here in all the gin joints in the world?”
She laughed softly at his reference to Casablanca . “Yeah. Something like that.” She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. “Surely, you didn’t come by way of kayak just to spy on me, did you?”
“Nothing quite so devious, I assure you,” he said, moving closer until she had to lean her head back as he approached.
“I needed to clear my head and thought I’d kayak for a few miles since the weather was so unseasonably mild. I saw someone sitting on the shore and almost turned around to head back. But I remembered that you live near here, and taking a chance that it was you, I came closer.”
“How did you know where I live?”
His lips quirked. “I might have looked it up.”
“Should I be concerned that a detective is stalking me?”
His hand raised in mock surrender. “Not at all. If I were stalking, I would be hiding in the trees, not calling out your name.”
“I guess a detective does know the difference between stalking and… um… what would you call this?”
“Interest.”
She blinked. “Interest?”
He nodded with his easy smile still on his face. “I have a confession to make. After we met, I was curious about where you lived. I had no idea if you came across the bridge every day or actually lived on the Shore. So, I checked your driver’s license.” He shrugged, his signature smirk in place, but she found it less irritating and more endearing than in the past.
“I’m unsure if I should be flattered or creeped out.”
He threw his head back and laughed, then dropped his chin and held her gaze. “Please, don’t be creeped out. I assure you, nothing nefarious is going on at all. In fact, if my showing up here has made you uncomfortable, please be honest. Making you uncomfortable is the last thing I would want to do.”
She rolled her lips inward as she stared into his blue eyes. They so often twinkled as though he had just thought of a joke, but now she could see the integrity of his words. “No, I’m not uncomfortable at all.” She looked down at the sand and shrugged. “All I can offer is to share my beach towel.”
He placed his hand over his heart and, with an exaggerated, theatrical voice, said, “I can’t think of anything better right now than to share a beach towel with you.”
She lost the battle to keep from laughing as she shook her head. “You, Detective Pickett, either have your standards low, or you’re full of shit.”
“Neither!” he protested. “I am uttering the absolute truth. I’d love to have a chance to sit and get to know you better. And remember, you’re supposed to call me Jeremy.”
She started to put the towel back down on the sand, then suddenly stopped, looked toward his kayak, and frowned in uncertainty. “Jeremy, while I don’t mind sitting with you this evening, I don’t want you to be in the dark trying to get back to wherever you left your vehicle.”
He glanced down the beach. “I left from my house, which is several miles away. If I could impose on you, I’d ask you to give me a ride home later. If I can leave my kayak at your place, I can pick it up another time.”
“Sure.” She shrugged. “That would be fine.” Soon, they were settled on her towel just as the sun lowered in the sky, sending pink, yellow, and orange to swirl with the various blue hues.
“Do you often kayak at sunset?”
“I don’t get to go out on the water as much as I’d like to. You know what our jobs are like.”
She nodded but remained silent.
“And I don’t really care what time of day I go out. But if I get to see the sun setting, that’s a bonus. Of course, I’m not usually so far from home when it sets.”
She smiled and sat with her knees bent and her arms wrapped around her shins. She wasn’t uncomfortable with him, finding that she’d like to talk to him more, but was once again aware that she was not a sparkling conversationalist when it came to small talk.
“Did you grow up around here?” he asked.
She smiled, more at ease answering questions. This, I can do. “No. My parents are in South Carolina. My dad is a neurosurgeon.”
“A neurosurgeon?” Jeremy turned his gaze to her, now ignoring the sunset.
“Yes.” She smiled with pride. “And he’s brilliant but also funny. He has a presence that makes you smile when he walks into the room, and he puts his patients at ease.”
“And your mom?”
She smiled softly. “My mom is also a doctor but works in cancer research. Specifically breast cancer.” She looked out over the sunset, her smile still in place as she thought of her parents. “My dad says that in a surgeon’s world of egos, when in a group where they all try to talk over each other, he fell in love the instant his gaze landed on my mother standing quietly to the side.”
“A man who knew what he wanted,” Jeremy said with a chuckle.
“I know a lot of people wouldn’t understand.” She turned her full attention to him again, a smile bubbling from deep inside. “He said that after only a minute of talking to her, he knew she was brilliant, dedicated, and the perfect balance to him. She works with some patients, especially when leading studies, but much of her work is in the laboratory.”
His gaze held hers, then dropped to her mouth. “It sounds like you have a lot of your mom in you.”
Suddenly aware of him staring at her mouth, she looked back toward the water and nodded. “Yes. I always respected how my dad never tried to force my mom into situations she didn’t enjoy being in. And I was lucky that he respected that in me, too.”
He opened and closed his mouth, saying nothing.
She felt he wanted to ask more, so she said, “You’re wondering what he thinks about me being in pathology.”
He grimaced and nodded. “I suppose that’s the detective in me. There’s always another question in my mind.”
“Originally, he encouraged me to enter the same field, thinking we could work together. But I… it wasn’t for me. I’m not… I’m not as comfortable with patients. That’s why I leaned toward research.”
She stared out over the water, but in her peripheral vision, she tried to see his reaction. She was surprised when he simply nodded.
“I get that,” he said. “We all have different things we’re good at.”
She turned to stare at him, pleased to see no smirk on his face. He held her gaze and interest.
“And becoming a medical examiner?” he prodded.
“When I started into medical research, I discovered that I loved pathology. I’m inquisitive and find what the human body can tell us fascinating. Whereas most doctors look at the living body, for me, I know there is much we can determine after someone has died. And family members have questions. Many times, they’re dealing with their grief, but they need to know what happened. I can give them that closure.”
His gaze dropped to her chest, and she stiffened at his blatant perusal. But before she could say something, he grinned. “I like your shirt.”
Her head jerked back in surprise. “I’m sorry?” She looked down, then chuckled. “Oh. Yeah.” She had forgotten the long-sleeved T-shirt she’d put on was one she had gotten from a medical examiner’s conference. Printed over her chest was Justice for the departed… closure for the living.
“I had never thought of your job in those terms before, but you’re right.”
She tilted her head to the side. “How did you see my job?”
“Honestly? Just as a support to my job.”
She barked out a scoff. “I hate to tell you, Detective Pickett, we don’t all live to serve you, you know.”
“I know, I know,” he rushed, pink tinging his cheeks above the scruffy jawline that she found more fascinating than she cared to admit. “That was a shitty egocentric concept for me to have. But you’re right. You serve so much more than just to assist us in our investigations.”
They were quiet for a moment, their gazes cast out over the water. He had asked so much about her, and she was curious about the confident man beside her. “And you? Where did you grow up?”
“The western part of Virginia. My parents still live there. My sister, too. She’s married and has three kids.”
“Your parents must love having their grandchildren nearby.”
“They love it. Although, my mom isn’t shy about asking when I’ll give her some. She’s only about your size, but she can throw the guilt out like candy during a holiday parade when she wants to.”
Laughter burst forth at the image of his mom looking up at her tough, thirty-something son and shaking her finger in his face.
“You think I’m joking,” he accused.
“No. I was just imagining her doing that.”
They fell into an easy silence before he asked, “How did you end up out here?”
She looked down at her sneakers and let her mind drift back through memories she sometimes wished she could forget. And other times, I never wanted to forget. “After I obtained my doctorate from Duke University, I completed my internship in a large hospital in Atlanta. I did my residency in clinical pathology. I worked with the Atlanta police and the local FBI since my mentor was brilliant in drug toxicology.” She swallowed deeply and grew quiet.
He gently bumped her shoulder. “And then?”
“And then the pandemic.”
The air hissed from his lips. “Shit, Cora. Oh, fuck.”
No words were spoken for several minutes, both watching as the sun dipped beyond the bay’s horizon. As the evening settled around them, she suddenly felt the need to unburden, saying words she hadn’t spoken in a very long time. “It was beyond horrible. So many people were dying every day. We couldn’t keep up. We were reusing PPEs because we couldn’t get new equipment. It really hit hard when several doctors, nurses, paramedics, and firemen who I knew became sick and died. The morgue was overflowing. There were days we couldn’t go home, so we slept wherever we could. We were like living zombies wandering among the deceased. Jesus, it was unlike anything I’d ever seen. It was unlike anything any of us had ever seen. The morgue and nearby hallways were apocalyptic.”
Her chest heaved with the weight of her memories, and she was grateful that he remained quiet, not filling the silence with platitudes or sympathy. After several minutes, she blew out a long, slow breath. “By the time the pandemic had eased, and the world seemed to return to a new normal, especially with the deniers, many in healthcare had burned out.”
His voice was low, barely a whisper. “Did you?”
She licked her now dry lips. “Yes. There were days I wasn’t sure I could get up. I was terrified of what would be waiting for me. But there was no time to take off. Eventually, the new normal eased into the healthcare field, and our caseloads returned to pre-pandemic levels. But I didn’t want to work at the large hospital anymore. I wanted a place where I could breathe. A place where… I could sit on the sandy shore and let the sunset wash over me.”
“A place like this.”
Her lips curved slightly, and she twisted her head to look at him. “Yes. A place like this.”
They sat in silence for several minutes, each lost in their thoughts. The evening shadows had descended, and a chilly breeze swept over her.
He sat close enough that his presence felt like a shield against the encroaching chill. His voice was soft when he broke the silence. “You’ve been carrying all that alone, haven’t you?”
Cora swallowed, her throat tightening. “I think a lot of us have. It wasn’t just the work, Jeremy. It was the isolation, the constant fear. And even when it got better, there wasn’t time to process it all. We were just… expected to keep going.”
His jaw tightened, and she could see the flash of anger in his eyes—not at her but for her. “It’s not fair,” he said quietly. “People expect so much from those on the front lines without ever realizing the cost.”
She shrugged. “It’s the job. We chose it.”
“But it shouldn’t mean losing pieces of yourself along the way,” he countered, his tone laced with frustration and something deeper she couldn’t quite name. “You deserved better then. You deserve better now.”
Cora turned to look at him fully, caught off guard by the intensity in his expression. The teasing grin was gone, replaced by a quiet determination. For a moment, she didn’t know what to say. It had been so long since someone had looked at her that way—as if she mattered, not just for what she could do but for who she was.
She gave a small, shaky laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re a surprisingly good listener for a guy who seems to thrive on one-liners.”
His lips quirked, the barest hint of his usual humor returning. “I’m full of surprises. Stick around, and you might see a few more.”
Her smile faded as she studied him, the sincerity in his words settling over her like the jacket on her shoulders. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For listening. For… being here.”
Jeremy leaned closer, his gaze steady and unflinching. “Anytime, Cora. And I mean that.”
The vulnerability in his words was like a crack in the armor she hadn’t realized she’d built so carefully around herself. It terrified her but also felt like a lifeline she didn’t know she needed. For the first time in a long time, she believed it might be okay to let someone in.
A gust of wind whipped across the beach, and she shivered again.
“You’re cold.”
She nodded. “Let’s go to my house.”
“Can I see Max and Mia?” he asked with what sounded like hope.
Chuckling, she nodded. She liked how they had easily transitioned between the heavy emotions and a lighter conversation. He stood and reached his hand down to her. She didn’t hesitate, placing her palm against his, allowing his fingers to curl around hers. With a gentle pull, she was lifted to her feet. She grabbed the towel and shook it again while he lifted the kayak over his head. She led the way as they walked to her house. He set the kayak on her back deck, and just as she was about to open the sliding door, he placed his hand on her arm. Looking up, she waited.
“Cora, I didn’t expect an invitation inside your home. That’s not why I stopped by. I couldn’t believe my luck that you were out on the beach tonight. I was glad for the chance to talk to you… spend a little time with you… but never want you to think I was angling to come inside.”
She could see his face much clearer now that the light from inside her kitchen poured through the glass, illuminating her deck. She held his gaze, reading the honesty she found in his eyes. “I know you didn’t come here for an invitation, but the invite still stands. You need a ride home, and I offered. It’s chilly, and we need to get warm. And I trust you.”
“Are we friends now?” He attempted the quirk she was used to seeing, but as she stood, holding his gaze, she could see the nervous anticipation on his face. That was an expression she’d never seen before on him. Nodding slowly, she smiled. “Yeah, I guess we are.” She tugged on his hand. “Come on inside, friend.”