Page 66 of Unnatural Death

“Promise that when you’re ready to go home tonight, no matter the hour, you’ll have the police escort you. It’s not negotiable.”

“I promise.” Reaching in front of me, he opens the glove box, lifting out his Glock 9-millimeter pistol. “And I’m not without my own resources.”

I climb out of the hearse, and I watch him drive off, the police flanking him front and back, their lights going full tilt. I return to the trailer, and Marino is inside the vestibule, seated at the metal desk. He’s wearing scrubs, his pistol on his hip, and I can smell the cheap soap he used in the shower.

“Hey, little buddy. Look who’s back.” Picking up the cricket container, he stares through the plastic. “The nice lady doctor responsible for your rescue.” He lightly taps the perforated lid, Jiminy out of sight inside his evidence box hideaway. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” But he doesn’t. “I don’t think he likes me, Doc.” Marino sets the container back down on the desk.

“He might not.”

Chirp! Chirp!

“He’s trying to tell us something,” Marino says. “What is it, Jiminy? What do you want us to know? That you’re a fan of mine? You’re just shy?”

Silence.

“Told you he doesn’t like me.”

“He may have heard about your past behavior with other crickets,” I reply, and Jiminy chirps again.

“Bet he knows who the bad guy is. Bet he saw the whole thing, didn’t you?” Marino talks to the cricket the same way he does to puppies. “He could pick out the bad guy in a lineup, what do you want to bet? He and Bigfoot both could. No telling what all you know, isn’t that right, Jiminy?” Marino taps the lid again but the cricket’s not stirring.

“Is he okay?” I ask. “If one more thing dies today, I don’t think I can stand it.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t know what the hell is going on. Must be what it feels like when you’re abducted by aliens.”

“I don’t believe you can say that word anymore.”

“Yeah, I can’t say half my words anymore. Which sucks when you don’t have that many to begin with.”

“I’m going to clean up. No coming back there until I let you know I’m done. I won’t be long.”

“Nope, I’m pretty sure you won’t. There’s not much hot water,” Marino warns, and that’s his way of telling me there’s none.

Inside the hygiene compartment, I toss a towel over the video camera on top of a cabinet. I don’t care what Benton said about our no longer being recorded. I don’t trust anything or anyone at the moment, and I hurry out of my clothes. Turning on the hot water, I discover it’s tepid at best. I yank the plastic curtain across its rod.

* * *

I have goosebumps and am shivering as I dry off with placemat-size towels inside the hygiene compartment. I put on scrubs, stuffing my soiled field clothes in a garbage bag.

Drying my hair, I realize how cold the REMOTE is when I’m not covered in PPE. I return to the vestibule in my stocking feet, shaking inside, my fingernails blue as I retrieve my belongings.

“I’m letting Fabian know we’re on our way.” Marino is typing on his phone. “He’ll gather up the evidence from inside the autopsy compartment. Are you okay, Doc? You look pale.”

“Just cold.” My head has started to throb. “It’s not even sixty degrees in here.”

“No lab coats, no blankets, no nothing,” he says. “And it’s going to be a bitch walking through the parking lot, dammit. I didn’t bother with a coat this morning.”

“Neither did I,” I reply, and we begin putting on our boots. My fingers are stiff, my teeth about to chatter.

“I told Fabian to lock the tissue sections, the test tubes and all the rest inside the morgue’s evidence refrigerator,” Marino tells me. “He’s to let DNA, trace, the tox labs know what’s there so they can get it upstairs as soon as they’re able.”

“Good.” I blow on my hands, trying to warm them.

“It’s not that cold, Doc.” Marino watches me with a worried look.

Digging inside my briefcase, I find the trail mix, offering the bag to him. Both of us have a handful. But low blood sugar isn’t my only problem. A part of me knows I’m stressed as hell. The rest of me won’t admit it.

“This place needs hosing down, but I told Fabian that cleaning it can wait,” Marino says.

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