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Bored,
I wait until five-thirty when the sun rises and go for a run. 

It
is as I am panting up the hill towards the hotel that I spot him, Detective
Austin, exiting his pickup truck and heading for the front stairs to the
hotel.  He stops, when he notices me, and leans his jean-clad hip against
the railings, his eyes devouring me.  My body is hot, sweaty and
immediately alerts to his presence.  Shit!  I must look like
hell.  I have a baseball cap over my head, to protect from the sun, a pair
of incredibly short shorts and a vest top that is wet in perspiration.  My
face is void of make-up, and I imagine my face is all pink and shiny.

‘Morning,
London,’ he calls as I halt at the bottom of the steps and bend over to catch
my breath.

‘Hey!’
I mumble, in between gasps.  ‘Fuck, that hill’s steep,’ I manage to pant.

‘You
take water?’ He questions.

‘What?
No!’ I straighten up and put my hands on my hips.

‘Heat
and high altitude up here, London, need to take water,’ he announces, calmly.

‘Noted!’
I climb the steps until I am level with him.  ‘Was it me you wanted to
see?’ I ask, realising that he may be here in a professional capacity.

‘Undoubtedly,’
he murmurs, his glance moving down to my bare legs.  ‘You have the longest
legs I have ever seen,’ he comments, casually.

I
ignore the fizzing that hits my core at his perusal. 

‘Is
there any new information?’ I frown, scowling towards his lazy gaze.

His
face clears, ‘actually, I do need to speak to you about Oliver,’ he
admits.  ‘I’ll meet you in the dining room in twenty minutes?’

‘You
can tell me now,’ I insist.

‘Twenty,
London,’ he turns away from me and enters the hotel leaving me following behind. 
‘I have other business to take care of,’ he announces, before slipping behind
the reception desk and into the door that is marked ‘
private.'

I
stand and observe as the door closes gently behind him.  Irritation
curling in my stomach, I run up the stairs and make for the shower.

********

The
weather in Krystal is gloriously warm, I dress in denim Capri pants and a
sloppy t-shirt that hangs off of one shoulder, and slip my feet into my
Converse pumps.  After finger drying my hair and applying my regular
make-up, I run down to meet Detective Austin in the Dining Room. 

Nerves
curl in my stomach at the possible information he may share.  Maybe one of
his many leads has proved fruitful. I cross my fingers in hope.  Nothing
will bring Ollie back; I know this, but it is important for me to comprehend
the reason behind my brother’s death.  Four years we had as siblings, four
years out of my thirty-one and his thirty-six. 

Something
I had learned a long time ago, life is cruel.  Just when you think you
have discovered something special, fate has a way of laughing in your face.

‘Hey,
honey!’ Marnie moves through the dining room towards me, her eyes soft, her
sway light.  ‘How are you doing?’ She checks as she stops in front of me.

‘Morning,
Marnie,’ I smile, ‘I’m doing great, thanks,’ I respond.  ‘I was looking
for Detective Austin,’ my eyes sweep the room in search of his pensive gaze.

‘Oh,
he’ll be with you in a minute, take the table by the window.  Can I get
you some tea or coffee?’ She enquires.

‘I
would love a tea, please Marnie,’ I thank her before moving over towards the
small table with the best view in the room.  I sit and gaze in wonder at
the stunning surroundings.  My run this morning had taken me double the
typical time as I regularly stopped to take in the beauty of the mountains in
the horizon.

One
of the waitresses places my tea beside me. ‘Can I get you any breakfast, Miss
Parker?’ She queries.

‘Not
at the moment, thank you.  The tea is fine,’ I smile, gratefully.

She
nods and turns away before I notice her face light up like a Christmas tree,
‘Hi, Nate,’ she grins.

‘Hey,
Ali,’ he smiles, a small dimple appearing at the left side of his mouth.

‘Would
you like some coffee?’ She tempts, tucking a strand of hair around her ear in
that girlie way that makes it clear she is interested in getting to know Nathan
Austin, a whole lot more.

‘That
would be great!’ his gaze falls to mine, and it takes on a serious expression. 
My stomach plummets. Sitting opposite me, he leans in his eyes moving over my
face in that way that he does.  ‘You had breakfast?’

‘Not
yet,’ I busy my hands with opening the tea bag and plonking it inside the
boiling water of the teapot.  ‘What is it?’ I demand.

‘I
just had a call from the coroner,’ I glance back up into his handsomeness.

‘I
thought we knew the cause of death.  A bullet to the brain will do it
every time,’ I state, mechanically, refusing to allow my mind to provide a
mental picture.

He
nods, ‘but as a matter of procedure, they also do other tests,’ he announces,
regarding me carefully.

‘And?’
I press, nausea sitting in my gut.

He
holds my gaze for a long beat before replying.  ‘Did you know your brother
took drugs?’

‘Drugs?’
I whisper, confusion etching my mind. 

‘He
was pumped full of Cocaine,’ he murmurs, softly.  ‘There were also traces
of tranquilizers, probably to help him sleep.  In my experience, that
suggests regular usage. Cocaine keeps them high; the tranqs help them down when
they need to sleep.’

I
close my eyes at the pain that runs through me. 

‘You
okay?’ Detective Austin’s voice penetrates my mind.

‘He
was a druggy?’ I question, my voice is tight with emotion, my stomach tense.

‘Sophie,’
his hand stretches out and grasps mine softly.  ‘I know all this is hard
to take in, but I have to be honest with you, babe,’ his voice holds
regret.  I glance up at him, bewildered by this new information, he looks
concerned for my frame of mind.

Taking
a deep breath in, I chastise myself for showing weakness.  I pull my hand
from the comfort of his grasp and sit up straighter.  ‘Okay, so does that
mean we are looking for his dealer maybe? Someone who he owes money to?’

He
sits back in the chair and regards me with intrigue.  ‘Possibly,’ the
concern disappears from his eyes, only to be replaced with what looks like respect.
He assumed I would fall apart. 

I
nod, not allowing it to penetrate that he had used my name for the first time, and
called me
babe
, in that way that would, in different circumstances, have
my legs melting beneath me.

‘What
else aren’t you telling me?’ I tilt my head and stare him down.

‘Honey,
you may think that look is intimidating, but I have to tell you here and now,
the only thing it does it make you look even cuter than you do anyhow,’ his
lips twitch.

‘What?’
I scowl.

‘You
heard me,’ he sits forward when the waitress arrives and fills his coffee.
‘Thanks, darlin’,’ he smiles up at the flushed waitress.

‘You
need anything else, Nate?’ She purrs, sweetly.

‘I’m
good, thank you, Ali,’ he winks, and she beams, huge.

I
raise an eyebrow towards him as I watch her over empathise the sway of her hips
as she saunters off.

‘Cute
kid,’ he explains.

‘Kid,
being the operative word,’ I hum to myself and hear him chuckle.

‘Careful
darlin’, you sound like you give a damn,’ he murmurs. 

‘Getting
back to the matter of Oliver,’ I encourage, ignoring the tip of my gut.  ‘What
else do you need to tell me?’

‘You
think you have it in you to identify the body?’ He probes, carefully.  ‘We
need a family member. I could call your dad, maybe?’ He suggests.

‘No!’
I respond, instantly.  ‘Leave my father out of it,’ then I add, ‘please.’

He
nods, ‘needs to be done, as a matter of urgency.’

‘Today?’
I squeak, a ball of stress forming in my middle.

‘Have
your breakfast, then we’ll go,’ he suggests. ‘Best to rip the band-aid off,
London.’

‘You
taking me?’ I check, hoping and praying that he says yes, a familiar face would
feel good about now.

‘Yeah,’
he is watching me, sizing up whether I am going to lose it or not.

‘Don’t
think I can stomach anything now, can we go first I can eat later, maybe?’ I
almost whisper. Acid forms in my throat at the anxiety that is spreading
through my bones. I’ve never seen a dead body before, let alone a family
member.  When my grandparent’s died, five years ago, I refused to visit
them in the chapel.  I didn’t want that imprinted on my mind. This time, I
had no choice.  I was all he had.

‘Sure!’
He provides me a measured gaze, ‘you sure you up to this?’

‘I
need to do this for both him and me,’ I confide.  I needed to know for
certain, for my own piece of mind, that it was definitely my brother laying on
a slab in the morgue. I also needed to come to terms with the fact that the Ollie
I knew perhaps wasn’t the Ollie of the real world.  However much that
would hurt and however much that would serve to reaffirm my former belief that
I could trust no one.  I had to know.

********

‘You
got family back home?’ Detective Austin probes as we pull out of the hotel car
park and down the hill towards the town, in his pick-up.  He had explained
that Oliver had being transferred to Denver City for post mortem, which is
where we were heading.  Apprehension fills me at the contemplation of remaining
in such a confined space with him, for the two-hour journey.  My ability
to chat about something and nothing for an extended amount of time is
unprecedented.  But, when Detective Nathan Austin looks at me, I feel as
if I am transparent.

‘Some,’
I reply, from behind my sunglasses. 

‘Don’t
give much away, London,’ he responds, dryly.

‘There
isn’t much to give, Detective Austin,’ I shrug.

‘Nate,’
he growls, I ignore him.

‘You
lived in Krystal all your life?’ I use my hairdressing, casual chatter to
engage him in conversation that has zero to do with my sad life.

‘Born
in Krystal, don’t live here now,’ he expresses.

‘You
don’t live in Krystal?’ I turn to face him, ‘where do you live?’ I shock,
taking the time, while his attention is directed on the road ahead, to survey
his striking features. Without a doubt, his eyes are the clincher, and from
this angle, I can see the long dark lashes that surround them.  His jaw is
strong, his lips soft, inviting.

‘Denver
City,’ he confides, pulling me out of my appreciation.  ‘Here to help with
your brother’s homicide.’

‘Oh!’
This is news.  ‘Where are you staying then?’

‘Same
place as you,’ he mumbles.

‘You
staying at Marnie’s?’ I shock.

‘Marnie’s
my Ma,’ he turns to gaze at me, ‘I thought you knew that?’

‘Marnie’s
your Mum?’ I repeat.

‘Fuck,
if there isn’t an echo in here,’ he mutters, sardonically.

‘Sorry,
but no, I didn’t know.  But Marnie’s adorable,’ I admit.

‘Meaning,
I’m not?’ His lips tilt.  I imagine he gets a lot of women falling at his
feet on a regular basis.  My impassiveness must be a novelty for
him.  The sad thing is, without all the drama that is presently
surrounding me, I know I would be on the floor along with the best of them.

‘No,’
I shake my head, ‘I didn’t mean that.’

‘Meaning
you think I’m adorable, too?’ He teases.  I provide him a stern look, and
he chuckles, ‘told you London, that look wouldn’t scare a bee.’

I
turn and glance out of the window at the quaint town passing by, sometimes
deciding it’s better to say less rather than more.

********

I
feel Nate’s fingers lightly on my lower back as we leave the dreary grey
building that currently holds the pale, waxy, broken body of my brother. I am
emotionally intact, not a tear in sight, but when I say I am emotionally
intact, I mean I am numb.  I feel nothing.  I remember looking at the
sheet strategically placed around his head and knowing that its purpose was to
conceal the gaping hole where the bullet entered his skull.

When
Nate had asked softly whether this was indeed Oliver Parker, I had simply
nodded my head to confirm.  No words were needed.  When Nate then
preceded to request whether I needed a moment alone, I had shaken my head and
pleaded with my eyes for him not to leave me alone with the body.  He had
understood, stepped closer and placed his hand supportively on my back without
another word.

We
are now sitting in a diner, Nate sitting opposite me, his eyes trained on me as
if I am going to erupt at any moment.

‘I’m
fine,’ I inform him as I sip from the cup of tea before me.

‘You
need to eat something, London,’ he announces.

The
smell, I can’t get rid of the aroma of the mortuary.  It didn’t smell of death,
as expected, but it smelt of bad air freshener, which they obviously use to
disguise any lingering death scents.  It had a chemical cinnamon hint to it;
I don’t think I will be walking into any bakeries for a while.

‘I
don’t think I can,’ I whisper across the small square table.

His
eyes warm, ‘okay, but when we get back to Krystal, I’ll take you to Ellie’s,’
he promised.  ‘She’ll find something to tempt you.’

I
nod, ‘thank you,’ I lower my eyes from him, ‘for...’ I didn’t know how to put
into words how much his presence helped.

‘No
problem, Sophie,’ he murmured quietly.

The
drive back was quiet. Nate seemed to understand that I needed some head
space.  There was no teasing, no chatting, no talking me through the on
route stunning scenery.  He put the radio on quietly and opened the window
leaving me alone to gather my thoughts and emotions. 

When
we pulled into the town, I took a deep breath and sat up straighter.

‘You
okay?’ Nate called over.

‘Yes,
thank you,’ I reply warmly.  ‘For everything.’

‘You
got to stop thanking everyone, London.  People don’t want to do something
for you; they won’t.  But, you are more than welcome.  Now, to
eat.’  We pull into the kerb outside Ellie’s, and Nate slides out onto the
pavement.  I climb out and follow him into the bright diner.

‘Hey,
guys!’ Ellie and one of her waitresses turn at our arrival.

‘Hi,’
I force a smile towards Ellie.

‘Bring
us two specials, El,’ Nate calls, as he directs us to the table I sat at
yesterday.  We sit, and I glance absently out of the window to the
pavement outside. ‘You feeling better?’ Nate leans back and regards me. 

‘It’s
a lot to take in,’ I admit.  ‘One day I have no one, the next I reconnect
with my long lost brother, then it turns out he’s into drugs and gets a bullet
in his head for his trouble.  It’s surreal.’

‘How
long since you reconnected?’ He questions.