Touched by Death (2 page)

It had taken weeks to convince John to let him come
over after the quake. When he'd realized how badly in need the town
was, Dane had stepped in. But John had refused to let Dane help fix
John's small engine repair shop, decimated in one of the smaller more recent
earthquakes. John said he wanted to fix things himself.

"The guy about the grave." John said, "Remember
they want to open it and retrieve some guy's family?"

Dane glanced over at his brother. There were only
the two of them left in the family. Both stubborn. Independent. And
family oriented. It had only taken one phone call with something odd
in John's voice to catch Dane's attention. He'd put his Seattle construction
business in the hands of his capable foreman, an old school friend,
and without his brother's invite, he'd flown to Haiti two days later.
That had been months ago.

Shielding his eyes from the hot sun, Dane said, "I
have to admit, never-ending sunshine and warm, dry weather is hardly
a hardship. Of course we haven't hit the humid summer season, yet."

"See? Isn't this much better than the wet misery
of the coast? Seattle is probably still buried in snow – even in March."
John grinned with satisfaction.

Dane couldn't argue that. His foreman had been complaining
of just that in the last phone call. "Not everyone hates the rain
like you do."

"Come on, admit it." John reached over and
smacked Dane's shoulder. A cloud of dust rose, making him step back
hurriedly. "You love it here."

"I love visiting you and of course, I adore Tasha."
Dane grinned over his white lie. There was no arguing that Tasha obviously
adored his brother so that was good enough for him. It had, after all,
been the call of family that had brought Dane here.

John had a terrible history with relationships. His
long-time high school sweetheart had walked out the door of her home
one day just weeks before graduation and had never returned. A few years
later, John had married the witchy Elise. That marriage had been a walking
disaster right from the wedding reception. Dane hadn't been able to
stand the woman and the feeling had been mutual. John was just a big
teddy bear who attracted unscrupulous people.

After that fiasco, John disappeared for years before
finally setting up housekeeping with Tasha in Haiti. Dane's antennae
went off at that and given the past, he could be forgiven for worrying
about his brother. Only John appeared to have stabilized, was flourishing
even. Dane had been delighted.

The major earthquake had changed all that, sending
John back into the same morose angry man as before.

"Hey, are you in there?"

Dane started.

John smirked at him, a sign his light-hearted kid
brother was showing through the more cynical angry one of recent years.
"What's the matter; Felice getting to you?"

Heat washed over Dane's throat. Felice was too hot,
too willing and way too young. She was also the daughter of one of Tasha's
friends who'd visited yesterday. He didn't know the specific laws in
Haiti relating to that sort of thing, still he was pretty damn sure
he'd get jail time back home and that was deterrent enough for him.

"She needs to be locked away for a few years."

"Not here. Girls her age are often married and
pregnant." John added thoughtfully, "And not likely in that
order."

Dane shook his head. "As long as it's not to
me."

John changed the subject abruptly. "What am I
going to do about the call…about this guy's request for help at the
mass gravesite? Sounds crazy to me."

Easily following the lightning shift of his brother's
mind, Dane said, "What's to do – he's a grieving man. His request
isn't unreasonable. And it's done all the time."

John visibly shuddered. "I never expected to
feel so strongly about it, but after that earthquake... I don't know
Dane. I saw too much death. More than I should have – more than anyone
should have. It seems wrong to dig up those poor earthquake victims
again."

"You've been living here too long. Some weird
Haitian's beliefs are rubbing off on you."

John snickered, making Dane laugh. "Or not long
enough. According to Tasha, Mother Earth claimed them and she won't
be happy if she's forced to give them up again."

With a sigh of disgust, Dane said, "That's crazy
talk. This guy lost his family. He wants to take the three of them home
to Seattle and bury them properly. He needs closure. That's all. What's
so wrong about that?"

John kicked a stray rock in the dirt. "I don't
know that anything is wrong with it. I guess if it were me and mine,
I'd want to take them home, too. But it's a mass grave. There are other
bodies to consider. Other families who will be hurt."

"Really?" Dane stared at him. "Like
how mass?"

John shot him a look before grimacing and staring
off in the horizon. "I stopped counting at sixty. We did what we had to
do. The dead...they were everywhere. Herman, our old neighbor,
used his loader...Christ it was bad."

Dane scrunched his face. John rushed to explain.

"God, there were children playing beside bloated bodies. They'd
become dulled to them; there were so many. Oh don't blame the children. They stayed close
to the people they knew because they had no one
else. That a dead mother or sibling lay within a few feet didn't seem to matter. Even
dead, they were a comfort."

Dane closed his eyes as terrible images flooded his
mind. He couldn't imagine the horror. "I wasn't judging. I just
can't envision what you went through. And to think of children sitting
there, so lost and alone... Well...it's a terrible thought."

Shadows darkened John's eyes. Dane was sorry for what
John had been through. "That's the thing about family." Dane
patted John on the shoulder and noticed his brother cringe.

"So you think this guy should be allowed to come
in and remove his kin?" John wasn't backing away from this one.

"I don't have any say in this. I wasn't aware
that you did, either. I'm sure this man has already gone through the
authorities. I'd suggest that you accept that this is going to happen
whether you want it to or not. The team of specialists is going to be here soon. When they arrive,
be nice to them. Helpful. They will probably be there for a day or two,
a week or two max. Then they'll be gone, leaving the others to rest
in peace."

"It's not that easy."

"I know. There are other people with loved ones
in that grave. Maybe someone should suggest that all the victims be
identified and even..." Dane pursed his lips and nodded his head,
pleased with his idea. "Reburied properly. This guy has money.
Maybe some of it should be put toward assisting the community to help
them deal with disaster."

John shook his head. "You don't understand the
full scope of the problem here. There could be hundreds of bodies there.
We just kept putting them in then piling dirt and rocks on top to make
sure they weren't disturbed. We probably went overboard on that part."

Dane blanched. "Hundreds?" He swallowed
heavily. "Okay so maybe the team will need a little longer. Still
something could be done for the other remains." Dane winced. "Or
at least the remains they can find and identify while they search for
the ones they are shipping back to Seattle."

John stared at him, and gulped. "That's not helping."

"Yeah. I know. Sorry about that."

The two men stared at the half-completed building
in front of them. Dane took an involuntary step back. Right now the
damn thing resembled a skeleton reaching out of the ground.

J
ade groaned and closed her eyes. Saturday and still
she'd awakened early. What was the point of having a morning to sleep
in if her body didn't get the memo? Sometimes life just sucked.

Surprisingly, she drifted back to sleep.

The phone woke her hours later. She stretched out
an arm trying to find the phone without having to disturb her comfortable
position. "Hello," she mumbled.

"Jade, I let you push me off last night, but
not today." Duncan spoke hurriedly. "This guy with the job
wants an answer and he wants one now. It's important. Are you awake?"

Jade huddled deeper under covers. "No. I don't
want to hear it. Leave me alone."

"Not going to happen. I'm coming over,"
he said tightly. "Get up and have a shower. I'll bring the coffee.
Be there in twenty." The phone cut off.

Jade rolled over on her back and stared at the ceiling.
What the hell?

Twenty minutes later, she slipped on socks just as
the doorbell rang. Opening the door, hairbrush in hand, she frowned.
Her brother wasn't alone.

A thin man of average height and wearing coke bottle
glasses stood beside Duncan. He had a thick folder in his hands.

Damn it
. She glared at her brother, snagged one of the coffee
cups out of his hand and turned her back on them.

"Don't worry about her. She's always grumpy in
the morning." Duncan motioned the stranger inside. "This is
Tony Maholland, by the way. Tony, my sister, Jade."

Jade shot her brother an irritated look. Good manners
dictated she at least smile politely at the man standing awkwardly
behind Duncan. Exasperated, she said, "Oh, come in and sit down,
for heaven's sake. You're giving me a kink in my neck."

"Jade, be nice. Good thing I warned Tony about
you."

"Why?" she shot back, leading the way to
the small kitchen. "You aren't being nice to me."

Duncan pulled out a chair for Tony, who was standing
uncomfortably beside them. He twisted a second one around and sat down
on it backwards to face her. "Everything I do is because I love
you. We don't always know what we need in life and sometimes, loving
someone means making the hard choices for them."

She glared at him, her instincts on high alert. She
wasn't going to like what was coming. Duncan never backed away from
a fight and he'd always been the kind of brother to lead her down the
right path – whether she wanted to go there or not.

"Jade, I need to talk to you. And I need you
to
listen
."

"I don't think I want to."

Compassion filled his eyes and her brother leaned
toward her. Instinctively she pulled back slightly. Wary. Duncan was
a counsellor – helping people was his passion. He couldn't help
himself. She loved him but hated when all that do-gooder energy was
turned her way.

"I want you to go back to Haiti. And Tony will
help you get there."

Jade's heart dropped, her stomach clenched and tears
welled in her eyes. "No," she whispered. "I can't go
back."

"I'll even go there with you."

Wordless, Jade stared at her beloved brother.
He would too.
She knew he'd drop everything to help her get through this.

He reached over and placed his hand on her knee and
squeezed gently. "You have to deal with this. Only then will you
be able to move on."

"Haiti? But that's where it all started."
She stared down at her clenched fists. How did going back make any sense?

Duncan caught and held her hands in his. "I know."

His words, so simple and so powerful. And so not helpful.

"Excuse me." Tony leaned forward, his gaze
shifting between the two of them. "Duncan, I can see this is personal
and I can't begin to understand what's really going on here, but I'm
not sure she's the right person for the job. We need someone who can
handle themselves down there – not people carrying personal baggage."

Jade agreed.

Duncan, however, grinned over at the stranger. "Well
put Tony, however remember everyone has baggage. At least with my sister's
you will know up front what the problem is. So this is the scoop. My
sister went down to Haiti as a part of the Disaster Mortuary Operations
Response Team. She was there precisely three weeks. She endured physical
attacks on her person, unbelievable emotional trauma due to the massive
number of deaths she had to deal with and her spirit took a major hit.
The experience changed her. It was if she'd been touched by Death, himself."
With an apologetic look at Jade, he continued, "She was pregnant
at the time. When she came home, her fiancé wasn't into dealing with
it and he bolted. About three weeks after his departure, she lost the
baby."

Jade winced. Duncan hadn't said anything wrong; he
hadn't exaggerated or minimized the truth – however, laid bare like
that, even she could see that although life had been shitty, it was
something she should have, and still could recover from.

If she cared to.

Her soul was weary. That was close to explaining the
way she felt. She'd been unprepared for the horror and devastation in
Haiti. The need and desperation of the people. Her inability to fix...any
of it.

The normalcy of her existence after her return home
had only amplified it. Her guilt. Her failure. Her life.

"She's always a professional. That's not going
to be an issue. Haiti, itself, wasn't the problem – it started the
problem. She has to face Haiti. Before her depression declines into
something more than she can deal with. Besides she's got the perfect
skill set and experience, as you well know. Plus she's available on
short notice."

Depression?
She stared at him, her attention snagging on that
one word. That was it. One simple word? Then she remembered a period
in Duncan's life, just after their father died. She'd been away in college
several years by that time, buffered from the emotional element, but
Duncan had been there taking the full blast of guilt from her father's
suicide.

"Is that what you felt?" She hadn't known.
Not really. How could she have? To understand such darkness, such sadness
in others she had to have experienced these emotions first herself.
Shit.
So typical.
Was everyone blind to what didn't immediately affect them? Duncan had
had it hard then too – and she hadn't noticed.