“Okay,” I said, growing a tad wary.
“It has your fingerprints on it.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “I have never seen that knife before.”
“Yeah?” He stood and leaned forward. “Not even when you killed Selena Ramos?”
“What?” I asked, my mouth falling open. “I have no idea who you’re talking about. I’ve never—”
“Just kidding,” he said, laughing harshly as he fell back in his chair.
I gaped at him, speechless. If I hadn’t been so shocked, I would’ve been able to tell he was lying.
“This old guy in Corrales slaughtered his neighbor’s pig. Said he was hungry. He’s being charged with theft and cruelty to animals.”
After I could fill my lungs with air again, I scowled at him. “You’re an ass.”
“Exactly. How do you think I got this far? So, don’t even try to fuck with me.”
I was beginning to seriously wonder about ADA Nick Parker. “Did you even try to intervene on Lyle’s behalf?”
“Of course I did. But according to campus bylaws, the president takes the fall for whatever happens in his house. I’m paraphrasing. And—”
When he dropped his gaze again, I prodded him with a “Yes?”
“I think my dad intervened.”
“Ah. The state’s attorney.”
“At the time, yes. Anyway—” He stood and went back to the window. “How is the case coming?”
“Well, I’m actually a little surprised you guys moved forward with an arrest. Everything, just about all the damning evidence, can be explained and backed up.”
“That’s not good enough,” he said to the window. “I need you to find who killed Emery Adams to be sure El is cleared of all charges.”
“I’m working on it.”
“Work harder,” he barked.
I lifted an unconcerned shoulder. “I need access to the ME’s records.” I needed access to investigate the deaths from the children’s home, but he didn’t need to know that.
“For what? There’s no body.”
“He still examined the scene. Tested the blood.”
“I can get you an updated repor—”
“I’ll get it myself, thank you.”
“Fine. I’ll have Penny set it up.”
“For this afternoon.”
“Anything else?”
“Yes. What about the other thing?”
He turned back around. “The other thing?”
“I’ve taken the case. Hand over whatever you have.”
That time he shook his head. “When you clear El, you’ll get the file.”
“You have a file?” I asked, getting up. “How odd. So do I.”
He sat down again, leaned back, and clasped his hands behind his head. “And just what’s in your little file, Mrs. Davidson?”
I let a slow, satisfied smile—it was more of a smirk, really—widen across my face as I pulled out my phone from my jacket pocket. “This conversation, for one thing.”
That time the blood drained from his face, his gaze superglued to my phone.
“It’s in the cloud, so don’t even think about it. Do you think I’m an idiot, Parker? I don’t appreciate being blackmailed. Or extorted, for that matter.”
He started to get up, but I motioned him to sit back down. “Go ahead and keep whatever you have on me. But just remember, games are much more fun with two players.”
I turned and walked out the door, feeling slightly vindicated from the stunned look on Parker’s face. He shouldn’t have punked me like that. A woman’s wrath and all. I hadn’t thought far enough ahead to actually record the conversation, but he didn’t know that.
He could keep whatever he had on me. I wouldn’t be the one losing sleep tonight.
Or so I thought.
16
Right? And I’m not even on drugs.
—T-SHIRT
I went straight to the Office of the Medical Examiner from Parker’s office. Wade was a friend of mine, but without clearance, he would never have let me look through his files willy-nilly.
“Hey, Charlotte,” he said.
“Hey back.” One of his assistants walked in. I had no choice but to take advantage. “How’s the chlamydia?”
The assistant chuckled.
“Oh, don’t worry. You won’t shock her. The moment Parker called, I told everyone all about you and your … creative sense of humor.”
“Man. I was so looking forward to humiliating you.”
“I know. I was looking forward to being humiliated. So, anything, huh? How’d you rate that?”
“Haven’t you heard? Parker and I are now besties.”
“I didn’t think Parker had any friends.”
“Well, he does now, thank goodness. That stick up his ass was getting longer and straighter.”
He laughed and led me to a computer. “Okay, so you look up the files here, and then, depending on how old the case is, you may have to take the call number to the dungeon.”
“Wade,” I said, surprised. “Last time you had me in the dungeon, we got the cops called on us.”
Wade looked over his shoulder at a lab tech who’d walked in to grab a file. “Nope. Told him, too.”
“Dang it. You’re no fun since you got married.”
“Hon, I’ve been married longer than you’ve been alive.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Call out if you need any help.”
“Are you off to perform an autopsy?”
“That’s the plan. Want to come in?”
The smile I offered was part in-your-dreams and part surely-you-jest. “No thank you.”
One would think that, with all the corpses at a morgue, the place would be filled with the walking dead, wandering about, trying to find their bodies. It didn’t work like that, thankfully. I didn’t need a sudden influx of life stories to hit me all at once. That had happened to me in my late teens. I’ve never been the same.
I sat at the computer, which was perched on a lab table, and started looking at the names Cookie had texted me along with the dates of birth. The OME may not have gotten all the kids here, but surely they’d had to autopsy a couple. A child dying was not an everyday occurrence.