Page 142 of Bad Blood

Doctor? The word confirms my worst nightmare.

My body shakes uncontrollably, and I clamp my hands over my ears as I rock back and forth.

No, no, no, no, no.

The sound of my heartbeat thrashes in my ears. My sole focus is on getting to her. I try to stand, and someone directs me back to sit on the sidewalk.

“Can you let them know he’s here?”

The man in the polo stoops beside me. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? We need you to identify the body.”

“The body?” A ripple of nausea floods through me and up my throat. I try to force the burning acid down, but it comes on fast and violent, spewing out of my nose. Tears stream down my cheeks and drop to the cement each time my body heaves. My voice wobbles.

“Sorry, man, poor choice of words. Come with me.” He plugs his nose as I empty the remaining liquid from my stomach.

The sympathy in his eyes makes my chest tighten.

He hooks his arm under mine and brings me to my feet. He avoids eye contact, leading me away from the paramedics and officers. I glance over my shoulder, watching them gather their things and stuff them in a black leather duffel.

We pass through several cop cars, red-and-blue lights pulsing against the buildings.

There’s an ambulance parked cockeyed near the curb. The lights flashing against the brownstones lining the street captivate all of my senses. I go on high alert.

Men and women in uniform.

People standing at their doors.

Watching.

Tears. Worry. And fear.

I’m grateful for his grip on my arm, unsure if I can stand on my own. He heads toward her brownstone, pulling me after him.

The adrenaline keeps me from passing out.

It’s too hot.

My palms are sweaty.

I come to a stop, trembling in place.

The detective directs me to the east side of the road, leading me through a less-congested area. We make it past a couple of cruisers and climb some steps.

A tidal wave of fear crashes into me as a stretcher with a body bag gets rolled out of the doorway. The tang of copper fills my nostrils. Two men lead the stretcher out of the doorway, and I whip around to my left, orienting myself with my surroundings.

I glance from doorway to doorway and down the block.

None of this makes any sense.

40

Gone Again

Dax

Friday, June 9 th

9:15 p.m.

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