Chapter 5
BUT IS IT A CASE?
George let his lover go, watching as Andi opened yet another report they had gotten at the PD.
Two out of two was worse than he anticipated, and George dreaded what else would come.
He leaned closer to Andi to read the thin findings about Isabelle Hopper’s death, which occurred only two weeks before Suzie Monahan met an early end.
Her death read like something George would expect in that horror movie everybody had been talking about—what was the name?
He couldn’t remember, just that a bunch of people somehow evaded death only to end in the most freakish of freak accidents.
It didn’t matter. Isabelle died from a broken neck when her back porch had given out under her weight after termites had practically pulverized the wooden beams on which it had rested.
“Why is this even on the list? I mean, she died of a broken neck, not of arthropods directly?” George poked at the piece of paper, knowing he was being cranky and owning it.
The impending call to his mother aside, this entire trip to Spartanburg was shaping up to be one big mess, what with Savalle and DeCapristo being on the warpath and Luke watching their every move without being of much help.
Andi looked up at him, his bluish-green eyes far too knowing for George’s liking. “It’s difficult, but you’ve got this. It’s what you’re good at.”
Andi didn’t have to elaborate for George to know what he meant. His partner and boyfriend not only had more information to draw from than any other human in the world, but he was also eerily good at interpreting it, especially when it came to George.
“Who ratted me out?”
Andi shrugged. “Tons of silverfish everywhere. This is a good place for them, clean and at the same time damp enough. They love it here.”
“I don’t like it.” And with it, George didn’t mean the tiny spies unveiling his secrets to his man.
“Me neither. DeCapristo and Savalle are an explosion just waiting to happen, and the mere idea of working with either of the two makes my skin crawl.” Andi sighed deeply.
“But this is still better than nobody knowing what I’m capable of and always having to hide it, always being one step from collapsing because it’s all too much.
Yes, this is a clusterfuck, but it’s a clusterfuck we can face together.
” He leaned his head on George’s shoulder for a moment, the height of vulnerability Andi was willing to show under normal circumstances.
George took it for the gesture of trust it was and pressed a kiss on Andi’s hair.
“I know. Still, why is she on this list?”
“Because damage caused by arthropods is usually a different statistic, and I’ll bet the porch is listed there as well, but a human life was a casualty of that damage and has to be somehow accounted for. Bureaucracy at its finest. Anyway, that’s my guess.”
“Which is as good as any.” George sighed. “Anything stands out to you?”
“No. Not from what I can read here. Termites are a problem, especially for wooden structures. If she were negligent in her caretaking, this is an entirely plausible scenario. And a broken neck is tragic when it could have just been a broken leg or arm, but not unusual when people fall.”
“Finally, one for the not suspicious pile.” George closed the report and put it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. “Next.”
Matthew Blank and David Tennet, two construction workers, disturbed a nest of bees when they took down a house in April.
They died from anaphylactic shock because help hadn’t arrived in time.
It was another tragic case. David managed to call 911 before losing consciousness but finding the two men had taken too long.
The year before, Jensen Simonis, a landscaper, was also stung by hornets when taking down a hollowed-out tree in a garden.
The man hadn’t known he was highly allergic, and the coroner’s report stated that even one sting would have been life-threatening for the man, not to mention the over thirty he had gotten.
George looked between the two piles. “If we look at all the deaths, even counting Isabelle Hopper, we’re well inside the statistical probabilities, aren’t we?”
Andi nodded. “It’s usually 80-20 for male and female deaths within the span of a year in the entire country. Small amplitudes are to be expected as this group is a lot smaller.”
“And if we look only at the suspicious deaths, it’s all males. Would you expect that?”
Andi nodded.
“I guess we’ll start with Thomasin’s apartment and then make a little trip to the lake where the judge and his fishing buddy died. As soon as Officer Kaustrowitz tells us when we can meet with Rosalie.”
“Yeah. The trail is already two weeks old, so to speak.” Andi closed his eyes.
“Do you want to do some meditation while we wait? I need to call my mother.” George had procrastinated long enough. It was time to grab that bull by the horns before they dove deeper into this strange case—if it was a case at all.
“I can do that. Or I can stay with you?” Andi was offering his support, and George welcomed it.
At the same time, he knew his mother wouldn’t react kindly to the news he was about to share with her.
It had been enough that Andi had heard her opinion on them living together.
Even though he knew his man didn’t care because he generally made a habit of not caring about other people’s opinions, more so those of people he hadn’t even met yet, George didn’t want Andi to feel unwelcome or rejected.
Even though he did a good job of glossing it over, George was convinced nobody could go through life being constantly rejected and not have wounds from it.
They might be hidden deep, they might even be scarred, but they were there, of that, he was sure.
“No. This is going to be ugly. I could do with some cuddles afterward if we still have time.”
“Of course. I can go downstairs into the hotel garden if you want to talk here? Less of an audience.”
“Thank you.” George thought about where to have the call, and the hotel room was by far the most attractive option. He didn’t need witnesses when his mother tore into him.
“No problem. They have a pool I’m going to check out.
” Andi leaned over, gave him a peck on the cheek, put his shoes back on and left the room without another word.
It had taken George some time to get used to his man not wasting breath on useless conversation.
Now that he had, he saw the advantages. Not to mention the conversation he would be having once the call connected would be full of wasted breath, he had no doubts.
With a sigh coming from the depths of his heart, George got up as well because having this talk while sitting down just wasn’t happening.
He needed an outlet for his nervous energy and quite soon for his anger.
Seeing as he still hadn’t started dialing his mother’s number, George wondered briefly when he would get old enough to no longer care about what she had to say about his life choices.
Since he was a realist, he knew the answer to be never.
He started pacing from his side of the bed to the door of the hotel room, from there to the bathroom, the second bed at the window and back to the first bed, bypassing a small desk with a wooden chair with blue upholstery matching the carpet and the bedsheets.
There was definitely a theme here. As far as hotel rooms went, George found it tolerable, in the dull way of serialized accommodations.
It wasn’t the most satisfying trail, but it was better than standing still. He swiped the screen of his cell, found his mother’s contact and called.
After three rings, she accepted.
“George. How nice of you to call. And so shortly after our last conversation.”
Translation: She knew something was up and was already chastising him for ruining the rest of her day.
“Hello, Mother. Yes, we talked only yesterday. About my birthday. And you coming to Charleston.” He wasn’t the most eloquent, as he willingly admitted.
In his defense, he was trying to figure out how to deliver the news and soften her reaction.
An impossible task, as he well knew, but hope sprung eternal.
“Are you trying to tell me we can’t come?” The hint of steel in her voice promised danger.
“No. If I didn’t want you to come, I would have already told you.” There, he could be direct if he wanted to.
“Then what is it?” She didn’t comment on the bluntness of his statement. Her disapproval nevertheless managed to reach over the connection.
“It has something to do with Andi.”
“Ah. The partner you’re living with. I still don’t get why your chief tolerates this. It’s unbecoming.”
“Chief Norris not only tolerates me living with Andi, but she also tolerates us being in a relationship.”
Silence. George held his breath and waited for the explosion. He had come to the conclusion that there was no subtle, easy way to break the news, so he just put it out there in all its unbecoming glory.
“Relationship.” For once, his mother sounded utterly shocked. George didn’t think he’d ever seen her like this—or heard since they were on the phone—but he could vividly imagine her expression.
“Yes, Mother. A relationship. It’s very fresh and we’re taking it slowly.”
“You’re living with this man. How is that taking it slowly?” Aaand she was back, scathing tone included.
“I moved in before we got together. I know…it’s kind of backward.”
“Kind of backward? George, you should never have started living with a colleague, your partner, to begin with! Just imagine what this can do to your career! And after you’ve worked so hard for it.”