20. Carter
Chapter 20
Carter
E xhaustion rippled through my bones, tearing at my tendons, causing them to scream in protest as I stood over yet another corpse. The Y-incision, opening the chest cavity, my double-gloved hands moving through the organs.
“There it is.” I pointed to a deep, jagged laceration on the liver standing out against the pallor of the large organ. “Judging by the pooling in the abdominal cavity and the distention of the abdomen when paramedics found him... I’d say this is the cause. “
Jackie, the stand-in from a local doctor’s office, jotted down notes on the fifth autopsy, two of which stemmed from significant trauma. Taking my scalpel, I removed the organ, and Dino photographed the laceration, then weighed it and returned it to the body after finishing my examination of the other organs.
“Your conclusion, sir?” Jackie leaned in, her fingers flying across her tablet keyboard as I stripped the gloves from my hands and tossed them in the hazard bin.
“No visible external injuries or trauma noted. A notable laceration was observed on the surface of the liver, extending into the parenchyma. Hematoma is present around the laceration. Significant internal bleeding was identified within the liver and surrounding abdominal cavity. No other significant injuries or pathological findings observed in the remaining abdominal organs.” I stripped my gown and tossed it into the secondary bin. “Primary Cause: Internal hemorrhage due to liver laceration. Contributing Factors: Blunt force trauma.”
“Okay, I’ll have this printed out and sent over to the department straight away this morning.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Jackie.”
“Sure thing, Dr. Morgan.”
The spry twenty-two-year-old walked away with a bounce in her step, the tablet pinned to her chest. I stepped into my office, the scent of antiseptic singing my nose, and dropped into my chair.
Riiiiinnnnggg.
I groaned, my lids heavy, and swiped the phone from my desk. “ Hello.”
“God. You sound like shit.”
“Thanks. Twenty-eight-hour days will do that to you.”
“Damn, man, take a break.”
“I was working on it. There are a few things I need to take care of before I head home and crash.”
“Okay, well, I won’t keep you long. I took the day yesterday and looked into a few homes within a ten-mile radius.”
I nodded. “And? Did you strike gold?”
“Absolutely.” He paused—a keyboard clacking in the background. “There is a small cottage coming onto the market in a few days. The owners were an elderly couple who have decided Florida was better during the winters. Helps their arthritis or something—“
“How do you have their life story?” I leaned my head back against my chair and closed my eyes. “On second thought, I don’t care. Continue.”
Rooster laughed into the phone, making me pull it away from my ear, put it on speaker, and drop it on my desk.
“It’s simple, easy to maintain, and it’s up the road from your parents. What do you say? Want to look at it?”
“How many rooms?”
“Two beds, one bath. Sits on a tenth of an acre.”
“Make an offer.”
“You don’t want to see it?”
I sighed and ran my hand down my face, scrubbing the exhaustion from my eyes. “I trust you. Does it need any updates? Repairs? ”
“No. In good working order. They put in a new kitchen a few years back.”
Nodding, I sat up in my chair and spun it toward the desk, resting my elbows on the surface. “Make them an offer they can’t refuse.”
“You got it. Anything else?”
“See if they’ll do an expedited closing.”
“On it.”
“Thanks, Rooster.”
I hung up and dropped my head into my hands, rubbing my fingers against my scalp, my feet and knees aching.
Knock. Knock.
I glanced up at my office door.
“Dr. Morgan, the DA wants that toxicology report submitted for analysis two weeks ago. I can’t seem to find it, and since the system isn’t back up yet, I didn’t know what to tell them.” Tina drew her brows together as though she expected an outburst.
“Tell them they’ll have to wait a little longer. Get a tech to call over to the lab and see if they can fax a copy of the reports if nothing else.”
“Yes, sir.”
She nodded with a pinched smile and stepped out into the swimming chaos.
What is June doing?
I grabbed my phone and dropped it back on the desk.
She doesn’t have a phone .
Standing, I dropped mine into my pocket, dug my keys out of my desk drawer, and walked out of my office. “If anyone needs me. Don’t call. I’ll be sleeping.”
Hushed laughter filled the space as I punched the exit bar on the door and flinched, my eyes squinting in the bright morning light.
Birds sang, welcoming the day, while my body cried out. I sank into my car, drove to the phone store, and purchased the latest and greatest, my eyes bobbing closed as the salesman went over warranty options.
Two hours later, I pulled into my garage, a new phone in hand and every variation of shirt, pants, and undergarments on the shelf. Rock n’ roll blared across the house speaker system, and bacon assaulted my sinuses in the best way, causing my stomach to rumble as I entered the house.
She’s awake?
She’s here...
She stayed.
My heart somersaulted as I dropped the bags to the floor and shuffled into the kitchen.
June stood at the stove, her hair in a messy high ponytail, her ass cheeks peeking out from beneath her shirt... my shirt. She danced, her hips swaying to the music, her spatula transformed into her kitchen microphone.
“I promised to make you pancakes this morning.”
She jumped with a squeal and spun in a half circle, her feet leaving the ground, causing me to snicker .
I dropped her new phone box onto the island countertop and settled on the bar stool beside it.
June grabbed the remote, and the music stopped. “Sorry.” She pointed back at the bacon sizzling in the pan with the spatula. “You said make yourself at home, and I was starving. I couldn’t wait.”
"I did say that.“ I braced my elbow on the counter. “But I didn’t expect you to eat the two-hundred-dollar black bacon.”
Her eyes widened, and she switched the stove off. “Two-hund...”
Laughter roared in my chest, and she paused, her breathless shock morphing into a piercing glare.
“You liar.” She tossed the spatula at me, the residue splattering over the surface, and turned the stove back on. “That wasn’t nice. I nearly had a heart attack.”
“You think I can afford bacon that expensive or I’d want to even pay that price?”
“I don’t know how much you make or how expensive your bachelor tastes are.” She glanced around, her palms pointed skyward. “I mean, look at this house. You look like you can afford anything.”
My cheeks ached as I leaned onto the counter with my other elbow. “I do well for myself, but I’m not rich by any means.”
“You drive a Mercedes.”
I raised a brow. “And?”
“Those are rich people’s cars.”
A short, derisive puff of air shot through my nose as I suppressed a laugh. “They are not.”
“Are too. Name one person in Avon who has a Mercedes. I bet you can’t.” She reached across the counter, took the spatula, and flipped the bacon.
“Okay, A Mercedes isn’t practical in the mountains.” I shook my head. “And does that mean you think everyone in Avon is poor?”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” She shrugged with a smirk. “Agree to disagree, I suppose.”
“So you would oppose me buying you one?”
June spun and pointed the wet spatula at me. “You absolutely will not buy me a car. I have one in Avon. I’ll have a company ship it to me.”
I opened the box with her new phone, powered it on, and stuck it in the protective case. “We’ll see.”
“Carter.”
“Yes, dollface?”
“Don’t do that.”
Smoke rose behind her, setting off the automatic fans above. “Your bacon is burning.”
“Oh, shoot.” She flipped off the stove and hurried to handle her breakfast while I set up her phone, entering my number as the emergency contact and pinning my contact card to the main screen.
“I need you to reach your parents today.”
She plopped the plate of salvageable bacon on the counter with pinched brows .
“Unless...you don’t want your parents moving here.”
Her fingers poked at the bacon on the plate. “I do...”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure how agreeable they’ll be.”
A weary breath escaped me. “They’ll have to be. Once I’ve had a nap, I’ll schedule the moving company to pack their things, get them plane tickets—“
“They’ve never been on a plane before.” June picked up a piece of bacon and nibbled.
“Never?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Dad said it wasn’t right how it defied gravity. Said if God wanted us to fly, he would have given us wings.”
I jeered. “And if God wanted us to go seventy-five on the freeway, he would have made us cheetahs.”
She laughed, and I soaked it in, absorbing the smile, the way her shoulders moved up and down, the fine line on her cheek, and the light in her eyes.
Was she happy being here even though it’s been less than twenty-four hours?
When would the ball drop and reality settle in for her?
“I’ll talk to them.” I stood and walked around the counter, pulling her into my arms. She laid her cheek against my chest, her arms mirroring my own.
“I can do it.”
“I think they’ll understand it better if it came from me, seeing as they aren’t concerned about me, but if you want to be the one to break the news, I’ll let you handle it.”
She shifted against me, and I cupped the back of her head, resting my chin on the crown of her head and breathing her in.
Only she could make cheap hotel shampoo smell like imported honey.
“I’ll do it. I’m sure my dad would like to fight with me more, and I don’t want to put you in the middle.”
“Alright. Also, I have a house lined up for them, and we’ll close in a month. They have until then to come to terms.”
June pulled back, her brows hiked, her mouth parted. “You bought them a house? That’s too much, Carter. I can’t let you—“
“You’re not letting me do anything. I want to do this.”
“It just seems so much.” She pulled out of my arms and returned the eggs to the fridge.
Lost her appetite?
“Let me do this for you.”
She sighed, the light in her eyes dimming. “It’s just... I don’t know. I don’t want you to do all of this for me and it not work out between us, you know?”
I shook my head and leaned on the counter. “That’s not an option. We’re in it for the long haul. No turning back, no regrets.”
“That’s easy to say, but doing it—“
“Relationships take work. On both sides. I’m willing to put my entire self into it.” I scanned her face, searching for a telltale sign she felt the same way... anything .
“You know I am too. But what if—“
“The ‘what ifs’ might guide your thoughts, but ultimately, your choices shape your journey.”
She smiled, her gaze slipping to the floor. “Getting philosophical on me, Carter?”
I cupped her cheeks, pressing my lips to each one. “I just want you to be happy, even if it means we go our separate ways in the end. No matter what happens, I’ll treasure every moment we’ve had, knowing I was the luckiest man alive to spend a fraction of it together.”
Tears pebbled in her eyes. “You’re so sappy, and I love it.”
“It’s the God’s honest truth, June.”
“You know what else is true?” Her nose scrunched. “You smell like sterility.”
I released her and smelled my scrubs. “I guess I’ve gotten used to the stench after all these years.” Sighing, I handed her the new phone. “Nice change of subject, though.”
“What’s this?”
“You need a phone, so I bought you one. You won’t have the same number, but if you want to transfer your old one, they said it wouldn’t be impossible to do.”
“Thank you, Carter.” She raised up on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek.
“I’m going to sleep.” I snagged a slice of bacon, the ends charred but better than the burnt coffee at work, and headed up the stairs. “Try not to burn the house down and save me a few slices. ”
“Okay.”
I shuffled into the bedroom and stared at the bed as I peeled off my scrubs, tossing them in the laundry bin.
The last time I’d laid there, I’d envisioned telling my parents I’d brought Amber’s killer to justice. That June suffered just like Amber, and we could be at peace.
But now, she was in my home, eating my food, sleeping in the very bed I’d plotted her death, my mind and heart at war.