ONE
Liam
“Do I even ask?” the medical examiner questions in his melodic Spanish accent as he walks into the morgue.
“Honestly, it’d probably be best for both of us if you don’t, but if you really want to know, which I’m sure you do?—”
“I really don’t,” Jerard Pérez interrupts. He looks younger than I feel like he is, but my guess has him in his thirties. He’s a smaller guy with dark brown hair and currently narrowed eyes.
“I’m sure you very much do, so I’m going to tell you a story about a man who would do anything for the person he loves. He would destroy the whole world… but… he just can’t do the single thing his love wants him to do?—”
“And you think I give any shits… why?” the man asks, sitting in his rolling chair at his desk to look over something.
“I’m going to be real honest, I don’t care whether you give a shit or not,” I confess.
“What I give a shit about is why you’re lying on my examination table,” Jerard says, as though there’s an issue with this. I used to deal with the other medical examiner but since hejust retired, it looks like I have the pleasure of dealing with this guy.
“Because if I play dead, maybe I won’t have to go anywhere at all. You ever wonder what it’d be like to be dead?”
“Have you ever talked to me this much? Like… have we ever evenhelda conversation?” Jerard asks. “Usually, you come in, give me a look of disgust, talk to Todd, and leave. Is this because Todd is no longer here?”
“No, I always thought speaking to you was a waste of time. Don’t take offense to it because I think speaking to anyone is a waste of time, and I give all humans a look of disgust. Please, allow me to reassure you that I’m not treating you special,” I promise him.
“I’m weirdly taking offense to it,” he says dryly as he slides his chair over to the body on the other table.
Before he can even start his examination, I inform him, “She was drugged. There’s a needle puncture mark between her toes. She has a stamp on her hand from the bar down on Third Street. You can run toxicology, but she was obviously drugged, probably from something put in her glass to subdue her and get her to go with the person who drugged her. You can see the smudge of her lipstick, like her hand wasn’t steady when she applied it. It’s the kind that doesn’t smudge once it’s dried, so I can only assume that she struggled to apply it as a result of feeling dizzy and didn’t try to fix it. That bar has an emergency exit out back, so let’s say she feels funny and goes to the bathroom, then once in the bathroom she applies her lipstick, unknowingly giving the drugs time to work. When she steps out, the person who drugged her guides her out the door—if they’re quick enough, it won’t set off the alarm.
“When they get her out to the car, it’s not enough. They want some way to drug her without there being clear evidence. The person holds her down and injects a drug between her toes tokeep her down. They didn’t mean to kill her, but the prescription she’s on reacted so poorly to the drug that it stopped her heart.”
Jerard stares at me. “How long have you been down here? I literally stepped out to use the bathroom.”
“Longer than I should have been. At least five minutes.”
“You figured that all out in five minutes?”
“No, I figured it out in three and then I climbed up onto the table and decided that this would be the last place Gabriel would look for me. Would you mind covering me up?”
“I’m not tucking you in. If I’m going to cover you up, I’m sticking you in a drawer for later.”
“This could possibly be worked out,” I say. “How much later?”
“When I don’t want to do my job. I’ll just pull you out when I want you to do it for me,” he responds as he slips on some gloves so he can examine between the dead woman’s toes. “Fine, I’ll bite. What is it that Gabriel is asking you to do that you’d rather play dead?”
“Meet his parents,” I whine.
That makes Jerard laugh, which pisses me off, and I consider what it’d be like to stuff him in one of the drawers. I’d let him out eventually, but I honestly think him laughing at me is reason enough for doing such a thing.
“Oh wow… the suffering you’re going through is definitely worth playing dead for.”
“I’ve decided to dislike you.”
“I’ve worked with you very little, though I’ve known you long enough to be aware that you don’t like anyone…buuuuutat least you’re good at your job.”
“Better than you, I see,” I say.
That makes him glower at me.
The door opens and Gabriel looks in before giving me a strange expression, like any part of this is odd.
