Page 24 of Hidden Hero

She walked away, and he made no secret that his gaze followed her until she was out of sight. There was no denying it—she had gotten under his skin in a way no one else ever had.

“What a creepy person,” Liz said, shaking her head. “Tagging people before it was cool? I don’t even know what that means!”

For approximately one second, Jeremy thought of explaining more coroner humor about placing toe tags on people long before people were using social media hashtags. Instead, he refused to give her any more time. Raising his hand, he called the server over. “I’m ready for the check.”

Turning back to Liz, he lifted a brow. “I need to head home. I assume you’re finished. If not, dinner is on me, and you can certainly finish your coffee.”

“I thought maybe we could go back to my place to continue?—”

“That was never in the plans.”

She stared blankly before a sneer marred her expression. “I wasted having dinner with you?”

Jeremy felt he was experiencing what women had been subjected to for ages—someone had dinner with them and expected them to sleep with them. Shaking his head, he said, “If you feel like dinner was wasted, that’s your problem.” He signed the receipt the server had brought back and stood, pocketing his credit card. “Goodbye.”

As he walked away, he knew her glare was burning into his back, but all he felt was relief. The weight of her company lifted the moment he crossed the restaurant’s threshold. He briefly entertained the idea of chasing Cora down in the parking lot just to talk to her for a few more minutes before they both headed back over the bridge. But the timing wasn’t right. She’d just seen him with Liz, and even though it wasn’t a date, it could easily be misunderstood. He wasn’t about to risk tainting the connection they’d started building.

Sliding into his SUV, Jeremy blew out a breath, the tension of the evening easing as the door clicked shut. He leaned back against the seat, his thoughts tumbling over the night’s events. What a disaster.

But then, as he adjusted his seat belt and settled in for the drive, the image of Cora’s face lit with humor resurfaced in his mind. That soft, subtle smile of hers and the way her eyes sparked when she delivered that dry, perfect line—I was tagging people before it was cool.

The memory hit him like a punchline, and a bark of laughter escaped him, rolling out in waves until his chest shook with mirth. “Damn,” he muttered to himself, his grin stretching wide.

For all the frustration of the evening, the chance to see Cora outside of work had been worth it. Watching her at ease, laughing and fully herself, only reinforced what he already knew—she had a way of pulling him in, her quiet confidence captivating in a way he couldn’t shake.

He couldn’t wait to see her again.

11

Cora walked into the apartment and looked around. The small room was decorated with years of memories. Shelves with framed photographs crowded together among figurines. The worn sofa held a multicolored, hand-crocheted blanket. The lift chair was newer and had similar crocheted arm covers.

The lace curtains covering the blinds were yellowed with age but appeared clean. She looked up as the EMT walked in behind a deputy. She didn’t recognize the rescue worker, so she nodded in her direction. “I’m Dr. Wadsworth, the medical examiner.”

“Sally McKenzie. I’m with the North Heron Rescue Squad. The woman is in her bedroom. There was no one else around. Her daughter came over this morning and found her.” She leaned closer and whispered, “The daughter is still in there.”

“Thank you,” Cora said, walking past them. She was in full PPE until she could see the situation for herself. She entered the bedroom, her gaze once more taking in the setting. An antique bed appeared to have had the legs shortened so the elderly woman could get in and out without too much difficulty. A rocking chair sat nearby, with a nightstand and lamp. A Bible rested on the nightstand. The room was clean, just like the rest of the house she’d observed. Another crocheted blanket covered the bed. The covers were pulled up to the chin of the elderly white-haired woman lying on her back with her head resting on the pillow.

A gray-haired woman stood at the window, looking at the small backyard. She turned as Cora entered, and her eyes widened in surprise.

“Ma’am, I’m Dr. Wadsworth, the medical examiner. Don’t be concerned about my protective covering. It’s my job to ensure that your mother is treated with care.”

The woman nodded. “I’m Mary Salisbury. This is… was… this is my mom, Carol Sue Hudgins.” She swallowed deeply, tears tracking down her face. “It’s not unexpected, but I… didn’t… I…”

“Mary, is there someone you can call? Someone who can come to be with you?”

“I called my husband. He had to care for the cows but is on his way now. He should be here any minute.”

“Okay, good. I will have some questions for you later. You may stay here, but you might be more comfortable waiting in the living room?—”

“No, I’d prefer to stay with Mama.”

Cora noted the reverence in Mary’s tone and nodded. She walked over and confirmed that the woman was deceased. She looked at her watch and glanced toward her technician, who had entered the room. “Carl, the time of death is nine fifty-two.”

“But she was… gone when I arrived earlier this morning.”

Looking at Mary, she explained, “Since the actual time cannot be determined, it becomes when a doctor pronounces the death.”

“Oh, okay,” Mary said, her hands twisting together.

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