Chapter 6
HARPER-RAYN
My hands grip the last door of the morgue refrigeration unit, and I tear it open before grabbing the empty stretcher tray and rolling it out.
I all but shove my head inside the unit and peer around, checking every last corner before finally determining that there’s nobody hidden inside. Well, at least no live bodies.
I’ve checked every possible space, right down to the small areas inside the old filing cabinets.
There’s not a single doubt in my mind, I’m alone as can be.
Well, mostly. I came in an hour before my shift to do all of my checks.
My supervisor is still here and a bunch of the admin staff, but they’ll be gone soon and when they are, I need to know that I’m well and truly alone.
I’ve already peed and made sure my water bottle is filled, so there’ll be no excuses for me to leave the morgue unattended tonight. Meaning absolutely no chances for some creep to sneak in and leave me unwanted gifts.
I’ve been watching the door. I know exactly who is inside the morgue and am taking note of the moment they leave. Nothing is getting by me tonight.
“Are you about done taking stock of my morgue, Madden?” my supervisor, Dr. McKullan, questions as he skillfully dissects a pair of lungs, his whole attention locked on what he’s doing.
“I am indeed,” I respond, striding over to my desk and unpacking my bag to get ready for my shift. “Is there anything you want me to do? I can scrub in if you’d like.”
“Your shift doesn’t start for another forty minutes.”
“That’s alright. I don’t mind starting early,” I tell him, always down for a chance to learn from the master.
Dr. McKullan is at the top of his field, one of the highest-regarded forensic pathologists in the country.
Residents would kill to learn from him, so any chance I get, I take with both hands.
“Alright then,” he says, not bothering to look up. When he’s zoned in, he’s zoned in. There’s no distracting this man. “Why don’t you finish this autopsy? I want to look over your techniques, make sure you haven’t been getting sloppy during your night shift.”
I laugh. “Sloppy? Me? Never!”
Dr. McKullan chuckles to himself. “I’ll be the judge of that,” he says. “Now go scrub in, and you can take over.”
I don’t waste a second, hurrying across the morgue to get prepared, and before I know it, I’m back and ready to go.
I settle in beside Dr. McKullan, and despite him already being well and truly into the autopsy, he has me start from scratch, meticulously looking over my skills while silently nodding in approval.
“Were you planning on explaining why you felt the need to come in an hour before your shift and search every crevice of my morgue?”
“Oh, umm . . . I was just making sure it was safe,” I say as I begin carefully removing the organs, but I realize too late that I forgot to filter the words falling out of my mouth.
“Safe?” he questions. “Have you been feeling unsafe? Has something happened?”
“No, no,” I rush out, lifting my gaze from the heart cradled in my hands. “Nothing happened. I just like to make sure everything is as it should be. You know, a girl can never be too cautious, especially when working the night shift.”
He narrows his gaze on me, and as his thick, graying brows furrow, I realize he’s more than aware that I’m lying to him, but he thankfully doesn’t push me on it like Knight did.
“Concentrate, Dr. Madden,” he murmurs, indicating down to the heart in my hands. “Never take your eyes off your work, especially when you have a heart in your hands. The slightest distraction could cause you to miss integral information.”
Fuck. I more than know better.
“Sorry,” I say, restarting my examination.
“Now, tell me what you see.”
Two and a half hours later, Dr. McKullan is just starting to pack up his things.
He stayed almost an extra two hours after the end of his shift just to work with me, and I’ve never been so grateful.
“You’re doing good work, Harper,” he tells me.
“You’re going to go far in your career. Now, when you’re ready, close up and get started on the report.
The detectives have been hounding me for this one for two days. ”
“Will do,” I say with a nod.
Dr. McKullan offers me a slight nod, and a moment later, he swipes his access card against the card reader and a soft beep sounds through the morgue. The moment he’s gone, I call out to Siri to play Paramore and to crank the volume.
I get lost in my work, closing up the body before jumping straight into the report, and just as always, my work consumes me. I’m just finishing up the report when my phone chimes from my desk, stealing my attention away.
My gaze drops to the screen and a stupid smile pulls at my lips finding a new text from Big & Long Schlong #2, and an earlier one from Izzy.
She’s so fucking gross. But I’ll call her later and give her all the sordid details, which will probably turn into a three-hour conversation that will end with me needing to pour bleach into my ear holes.
For now, Big & Long Schlong #2 is requiring the rest of my attention.
I put my phone down as I wait for Laith’s response. He’s always been a little weird about sharing. It’s not the first time I’ve brought up wanting to explore a threesome, but he’s never really gotten on board with the idea. I don’t mind though.
When it comes to me and Laith, it’s only ever been about convenience.
We get in, get the job done, and then we’re on our way.
Adding a third . . . That’s where things could get complicated.
Neither of us has the time to filter through our contacts to find someone we think would not only be down but make it worthwhile.
Laith’s text doesn’t come for a few minutes, but when it does, surprise pulses through my veins.
My brow arches. I expected him to either umm and ahh over it or completely shut the idea down, but the fact that he seems to be considering it has hope surging through me. Is there a chance I might actually get this?
A booming laugh tears through me, and I swing back in my desk chair as I prop my feet up on the lip of the bottom drawer of my desk. A million responses filter through my brain, and while I could console his fears and let him know that I respect his boundaries, I can’t resist the urge to tease.
His response comes a minute later with two simple words that have me cracking up even more.
Giddiness bubbles through me, and when it gets too hard to concentrate on my work, I push my phone away and try to focus. I can think about threesomes tomorrow. Right now, I have a body who deserves a thorough report.
A soft beep sounds through the morgue, and my back instantly stiffens as my gaze snaps toward the door.
I knew my last shift left me shaken, but after talking with Knight about it, I felt somewhat more at ease.
I had started to convince myself that maybe it was just some sick joke played by bored kids wanting to screw with me.
But up until this very moment, I hadn’t realized just how much of a chokehold it has on me.
The door begins to open, and my hand curls around the pen on my desk, expecting the worst. I’m not a cold-blooded killer by any means, but if it came down to it, I would know exactly where to stab the pen to cause the most damage.
I’d be the one walking away from this, and while that snippet of information goes a long way to comfort me, that doesn’t mean that I’m not terrified right now.
The door begins to open, and I suck in a breath, preparing to scream if need be, and as I mentally war with the fear pulsing through my body, I watch as the night janitor, Vincent, strolls in without a single care in the world.
My body sags and I stare at Vincent, needing just a few seconds for my brain to comprehend that I’m not currently in mortal danger.
God. I’m an idiot.
Vincent drags his cleaning cart behind him before settling it in its usual position by the door as my fingers relax and I release my death grip on the pen.
“Oh, Miss Harper,” Vincent says, his eyes going wide as he takes me in. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I, ummm . . . Yeah,” I say, swallowing hard as though that can possibly ease the way my hands tremble beneath the table. “All good. How are you? Busy night?”
“Oh, you can say that,” he says, chuffed to be having a conversation.
Vincent often tells me that I’m the only person who’ll speak to him during his shift.
It’s heartbreaking, but I’m not surprised.
The night crew at the hospital isn’t always the most welcoming.
I’ve had more than my fair share of run-ins with people who want nothing to do with me.
But despite how I like to work in peace, if someone were to walk into the morgue, you bet I’m going to go out of my way to make them feel comfortable.
“How’s Lila?” I ask. “Still struggling with kindergarten?”
Vincent lets out a heavy breath as he scoops up the antiseptic spray from his cart.
“Yeah, unfortunately, kindergarten is really kicking our ass,” he tells me as he steps up to the autopsy table and starts to clean it, despite me already having done it barely two hours ago.
“I think her teacher reminds Lila of her mother. It hasn’t been that long since she passed, but they have similar features. ”
My heart grows heavy. Vincent’s wife passed a little over a year ago, leaving him as a struggling single father of three little girls.
He’s barely been getting by. He works an office job during the day, then has his janitorial shift during the night while his girls are watched by his mother.
It breaks my heart. He’s doing everything he can to support his children and ensure they have a good life, all while grieving the loss of his wife.