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Authors: Dale Mayer

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BOOK: Touched by Death
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"As it is, I didn't think you had it in you to
be this patient. I don't think I could be." Dane meant it. He thought
he'd been a very patient man until he'd seen his brother. This time
his brother was a bloody saint.

"I have to find a way to make this all work.
I can't lose it all
again
."

It was that one word – again – that
broke Dane's heart. "Damn it John. You have to stop letting the
past haunt you. You're not going to lose Tasha. Just because you lost
Elise in a car accident that doesn't mean you're going to lose every
woman you love. You don't have to lose anything or anyone. If this isn't
working out, you need to take another look and figure out how to make
it work."

"I know… I know," he cried. "Why
do you think I've been paralyzed with inactivity on the Peppe issue?
And it's the same for my company. I'm bankrupt. My marriage is on the
rocks and I don't know how to save it. My child is due to be born in
a month and I don't know how to make that a good thing. I can't stand
my li––"

John's voice cut out as if sliced by a knife. He stared
at Dane, horrified. "Oh God. I didn't say that, did I?"

Dane's heart broke. "Yes, you did." He pursed
his lips and thought about what John had really said. "How much
of your problem is because you don't know what you really want?"
John appeared to not want anything he currently had – but had he figured
that out yet? Some truths had to be reached on their own. God help John
if that was what he decided.

John lifted a trembling hand. "Probably everything.
I should never have started my own company. I'm not cut out for it.
I need a job that pays decent and lets me go home to my family every
day. I can't keep doing this." John plunked down on the bottom
step. "I haven't been able to tell Tasha that there's no money
left. No business left."

"That's why you've been so patient and let her
walk all over you?"

He nodded. "I feel like I'm coming apart at the
seams. I've been waiting for the right time to discuss it, but it never
comes."

"Jesus John, there is no right time for bad news.
You have to tell her." Dane groaned and stared at the festering
cabin in front of him. "That's why you haven't done anything about
Peppe; you don't have the money, do you? What about the chunk I gave
you?"

Gazing at his brother with a defeated look, John shook
his head.

"No. It's all gone."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

D
r. Mike stared at the bones, the poor light in the
lab trailer derailing his progress. He hadn't left with the others even
though it was end of work on a Friday afternoon – their time for beer
out on the garden patio. And beer would be good right now. Not to mention
he'd planned on talking to them about the hike he had in mind. Only
he hadn't had a chance to check the options yet.

This mess with the manacles and bones sitting on his
table had to be sorted out first.

He didn't know what to do with the information he
had. The authorities didn't care. The local people didn't appear to
care. So few people had shown for DNA tests, he was beginning to suspect
all their processing would be for naught. They could have just created
a second gravesite right beside the first one and moved over the bodies
that didn't fit the parameters of the ones they were looking for. Would
have cut the work in half.

Damn it
. He knew these women had been murdered. He'd put his
thirty-year reputation against it. And no one cared.
That's what hurt the most. All these women mistreated, captive for
who knows how long… And then they'd been murdered. And no one cared.

And the details his team unearthed weren't required
or welcome because, as far as the police were concerned, this wasn't
something they were going to follow up.

In the U.S. there would have been teams of specialists
digging out this site to determine the type of dirt above and around,
collecting the bugs etc. Here, there was only him – and his team.
And he didn't have the necessary equipment to collect all the evidence
and record all the details.

Tony had been adamant. Pass over the information to
the authorities and get off the case. He'd said, 'There's no joy in
being the bearer of the bad news here. They aren't going to thank us,
not with the thousands of people unaccounted for here. Let it go. Process
and move on.'

Speaking to the empty trailer, Dr. Mike said, "Right.
And what about justice for these women?"

He walked over to the front of the trailer and stuck
his head out. When he looked around, he could hear something rustling in the
woods, only he couldn't see anyone.

"Hey, doc."

Dr. Mike squinted. John's brother-in-law walked toward
him.
Emile.
Dressed for the heat in tank top and blue jeans – the uniform of choice
the world over – he strolled toward the lab trailer.

"Hi. Are you looking for Dane?"

"Nah, I know where he is, we're all looking for
my father who's gone wandering. He's not quite right in the head and
gets lost easy." Emile's gaze shifted from the lab trailer to the
rocks surrounding the clearing.

"Oh dear. I haven't seen him around. Sorry."
Dr. Mike couldn't help but glance around the clearing at the same time.

Emile shoved his hands into his pockets. "No
problem. I figured you were here, so I asked."

Dr. Mike hesitated. He hated to ask the young man,
but a few minutes of his help would be huge. He needed to get the remains
stored away. "Hey, while you're here, would you mind giving me
a hand moving a few things over to the other trailer?"

Emile's face twisted. "As long as it's not bodies.
I don't hold on touching the dead."

"It is bones, only you won't have to touch them.
I already have them in sealed bags, on the stretchers." His words
rushed out to reassure Emile. "I just need you to grab an end and
help me move them to the other trailer."

Emile looked like he wanted to refuse but couldn't
figure out how. Dr. Mike pressed his advantage. "Honest. A five-minute
job – not even that. I can't leave them here over the weekend. They
need to be locked in the reefer truck."

Emile's face scrunched in horror.

Dr. Mike spoke faster, before Emile could run as far
and as fast he could in the opposite direction. "I promise. You
won't even see them. They are packed up. They're so small I can even
put them both on the same stretcher." He stared hopefully at Emile.
"Please!"

Emile stared around as if hoping someone else would
show.

"There's no one else. It has to be you."

Emile's shoulders sagged. "One trip – and I
don't touch anything but the stretcher handles."

"Done." Dr. Mike brightened. "Let's
do it right now. It'll be over in five minutes."

Emile, once the decision was made, followed along
willing enough. He grabbed the one end of the stretcher and waited while
Mike shifted the bags and laid them on top of each other. Mike grabbed
his end of the stretcher. "Okay, here we go."

He'd been right. The trip took about two minutes.
And Emile, true to his word, refused to help open doors or touch the
bags. Mike shook his head, trying hard to understand. Not everyone could
handle his profession. Death freaked out so many people.

Too bad.
Everyone came to the same end, regardless of how hard
they tried to avoid it.

"Thanks Emile. I can take it from here."
Emile backed out of the freezer room as if afraid he'd be bagged and
laid next to the others. Mike watched him almost hyperventilate with
relief.

"Hey, are you all right?" He walked down
to check on him.

Emile glanced back. "Yeah. I'm okay. Just don't
want to be in there." He motioned toward the trailer. "Have
these ones been identified now?"

"Not yet." Mike looked back down the long
interior. "We have lots to do."

"What about the ones we just brought over. Are
they done?"

"They've been processed, just not identified."
Mike walked out the rest of the way and slammed the heavy door shut.
He slid the bolt closure across and snapped on the big lock.

"Most are on one side. We put those on the opposite
side," Emile pressed.

"Yeah." Mike gave him a weary smile. "Those
ones are special."

Emile's gaze narrowed. "Why? Are they not all
special?"

With a long look at the gravesite and the bodies that
still waited to be uncovered, Mike couldn't help but agree with him.
"That is so true. Yet even in a large grave like that there are
some that are different." Mike headed back to the lab. "Thank
you for the help."

Emile followed him back and glanced around the small
room. "Lots of equipment. Not much space."

"Yeah. That should be our new logo." Mike
glanced up at him with a smile – in time to see horror scrunch Emile's
face. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Emile pointed to the floor where they'd moved the
stretcher. "What's that?"

Bending down, Mike found two chain links that must
have fallen out from one the women's body bags. The rusty iron clanged
as he placed the links into a clear bag. "Damn. I missed these.
I wonder which bag they came from."

Emile's face paled. He straightened and raced outside.

"Thanks again for your help, Emile," Dr.
Mike called after him.

He never responded. Mike walked outside, sealing the
chain in a small plastic bag. Emile was bent over a bush off to one
side.
Uh, oh.

As Mike watched, Emile coughed and spewed again. Mike
stepped back to give him some privacy.
Damn.
He hadn't meant to upset him. Some people just didn't
handle this stuff well. He set about putting the piece of chain away
properly.

He walked out to check on him a few minutes later
but Emile had left.

Mike hoped he'd find his father. This wasn't a good
place to go missing. Then again, this was the old man's property and
he'd lived here for decades. He probably knew every rock and tree in
the area. Positioned in the rocks and hills as their camp was, the sun
had long disappeared behind the greenery, throwing lengthening shadows
and weird fingers of light through the area.

Straightening he stretched out his sore back and shoulders.
Lord he was tired. Long day. Long week actually. He double-checked the
temperature and the lock before heading over to lock the lab trailer.

Time to leave.

***

Emile slipped around the rocks, watching as the old
man left the smaller trailer. His mouth still smarted from the sour
retchings of his stomach. How could any people work in there? Touching
the dead, violating their bodies, their souls. He shuddered.

How wrong could life get? He'd thought things had
been bad after that big earthquake. He'd seen things that still gave
him nightmares. He'd watched things people had done to each other in
the name of survival.

Survival also had little to do with some of what he'd
witnessed. Predators had preyed on the dead, the living and those caught
in between. He'd seen thieves empty pockets, steal shoes, grab anything
that could be removed and run to the next body, alive or dead. It hadn't
mattered.

The things he'd seen in town had been unbelievably
difficult. And none of it touched on the horror of what he'd found later.
Something so horrific, so terrible he hadn't been able to stop thinking
about it since. He'd had to clean up the mess and doing something to
protect another had seemed right at the time – until he'd been seen.

His stomach dry heaved with the painful memories.

He hadn't been the same since.

Then the horror had turned to fascination and that
scared him even more. The very idea had settled into his psyche and
rooted, spouted into another horrible concept, only this time he was
a part of it.

He shuddered.

He couldn't do that to a woman.

He shouldn't do that to a woman.

But he would – if he got the chance.

With one last look at the empty lab trailers, and
the place he'd find two unprotected women, he refocused on finding his
old man.

Damn him, anyway.

***

The beautiful evening and cool breeze blowing over
Jade's heated skin made warmth blossom inside. She sighed happily. Her
hotel room held a lightness that she enjoyed and it certainly beat the
afternoon mugginess that had settled in today.

She'd spent all week in a state of nervous anticipation.
Listening for vehicles, checking out every unusual sound and doing lots
of heavy sighing. Much to Meg`s amusement.

For tonight, she'd chosen her one decent sundress
and a light sweater just in case a wind came up. Sandals and a little
light makeup too. Why she'd brought makeup when she almost never wore
it, she didn't know. She'd been thinking ahead obviously. Plus she thought
it was a good sign that she wanted to look special for Dane...and that
made her smile.

She missed the closeness, the specialness that came
when she was part of a loving twosome. Even if it had been a long time
ago. Even if it hadn't stood the test of time and trauma.

At the same time, trust and confidence were now bigger
considerations for Jade before entering a new relationship.

Dane made her heart warm; she'd be happy to see where
this went. Actually, she'd be more than happy to help it along. He did
make her hormones pay attention. She'd always enjoyed sex. She hadn't
missed it because she'd been so busy being mad and hurt. Now however,
a part of her was raring to make up for lost time. How contrary could
she be?

Still the butterflies in her stomach wouldn't calm
down, and honestly, she was starving again. She hoped he'd planned for
a decent meal. She took a deep breath and walked downstairs to the lobby.

Dane walked in the door as she reached the front desk.
The sight of him stopped her in her in her tracks.
Damn.
He looked beyond good. Black jeans and a white cotton
shirt with stand-up collar. Only it wasn't the clothes that caused her
breath to hitch. It was the way he wore them.

BOOK: Touched by Death
2.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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