Page 5 of Hidden Hero

But she’d found her niche in research and pathology. And even though she’d completed her internship and residency in a large hospital in Atlanta, she found the way of life in the rural setting of the Eastern Shore to be a place of respite after…

A sudden beeping jolted her from her thoughts. The alarm from the blood analysis machine broke through the quiet, and she turned toward the sound. Before she could move, Janice, one of her technicians, entered the room, heading toward the lab.

“Oh! Hey, Cora,” Janice said, jumping slightly as their paths crossed. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

“I’m finishing up with Mr. Rudolph,” Cora replied, gesturing toward the body. “The blood results should help tie up a few loose ends for the report.”

Janice nodded, then hesitated. “You okay? You looked a little lost in thought.”

Cora managed a small smile, though her mind still lingered on a certain detective. “Just thinking through the case. You know how it is.”

Saying goodbye to Janice, Cora glanced around as her technician rolled the remains back into the mortuary drawers. He and the woman from the accident would have relatives coming to the Shore tomorrow. She slipped her purse strap over her shoulder and walked out of the lab, making her way to the hospital parking lot.

Once home, she prepared a simple garden salad with salmon crumbled on top and poured a glass of tea. Sitting at the small table, she looked out the sliding glass door to the dune leading to the bay behind her house. When she’d first moved into the area, the real estate agent had seen dollar signs at the thought of finding a home for the doctor. But it was too early for Cora to commit to a house until she found exactly what she needed.

She eventually stumbled across a small, older home overlooking the bay. The owner wasn’t ready to sell but was willing to rent. It wasn’t fancy, but the view was outstanding. She inhaled deeply, then let her breath out slowly, releasing the pent-up emotions of the day.

Cora knew many people wouldn’t understand those emotions. To most people, she was just the medical examiner—a detached professional who dealt with the dead. The memory of Jeremy’s words echoed in her mind.Robotic.

She shook her head, sighing as she reached for her fork. Her work was often a subject of morbid fascination. People asked questions out of curiosity, not genuine interest, and she rarely felt inclined to entertain them.

She stabbed her salad with a little extra force, and as she chewed, her mind rolled back, once again, to Jeremy. Their first meeting six months ago had been auspicious as he put his foot in his mouth. She’d wondered if it might be a one-time occurrence, but over the next months, whenever she’d see him, he continually failed at his attempts at humor. It was always so hard for her to tell if someone was making a joke or making her the butt of a joke.

Several months ago, he and his partner had come to the hospital to follow up on a report from a teenager who’d overdosed.

“So this is where you call home?” Detective Pickett asked as he strode in, his gaze flickering to the wall of mortuary drawers. He turned around with his hands on his hips, his eyes twinkling, and his lips curved into the half smile she had seen before.

“No, this is where I work. My home is elsewhere.”

He barked out a laugh. “Are you always so literal?”

“Are you always so flippant?” she retorted.

A stifled chuckle from the other side of the room caught her attention. She swung her head around to see Detective Bolton standing with his fist covering his mouth as though the sound emitted had been a cough.

She had no idea if Detective Pickett was making fun of her or flirting. She almost snorted. If he was flirting, she had no idea how to flirt back. Deciding she didn’t want to waste any more time feeling unsure, she moved to her computer and quickly printed out her report. Taking the pages from the printer, she turned and handed them to Detective Bolton.

“I believe this is what you came for.” She braced, wondering what else Jeremy was going to say. When nothing was forthcoming, she looked his way. The smirk was gone, and she could’ve sworn she’d seen regret flash across his face before being replaced with a polite nod.

“Thank you, Dr. Wadsworth,” he said, his tone soft.

She managed to say goodbye and watched as the two detectives walked out her door. Only then did she realize she had been holding her breath.

Cora looked down at her plate, realizing she’d eaten her meal without tasting it as her mind wandered down memory lane. She knew Jeremy thought she had no idea how to let her hair down and have fun. The truth was that she easily got along with her coworkers in the lab and the other medical professionals in the hospital. Those settings were comfortable for her. But making small talk with someone she didn’t know well? She’d rather endure a root canal.

Years ago, she’d learned that being an introvert often led others to think she needed to “loosen up.” They didn’t understand that introverts weren’t extroverts waiting to burst free from some imagined shell. Introverts simply preferred meaningful interactions with people they trusted, not the casual banter and forced cheerfulness of strangers.

Her attention was dragged away from her thoughts of Jeremy’s misguided attempts at humor. As the sun set, streaks of pink and orange stretched over the bay. As always, the sight lifted her spirits and gave her peace.

Her phone vibrated, and she grinned at the distinctive ringtone. “Hey, Mom.”

“Hi, darling. I have you on speaker, and your dad’s here. We just wanted to check in to see how you’re doing.”

“I’m good. I was just sitting here, enjoying the sunset over the bay.”

“We can’t wait to visit again once I get a weekend off,” her dad said.

She knew it was difficult for him to take time off, but he’d hinted at slowing down on the courses he taught at the medical school and focusing on his patients. “The spare room is always available, and I can probably get my hands on some fishing poles, Dad.”

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