Why do I feel relieved?
I’m not making a lick of sense in my head, but my thoughts are still streaking every which way.
What does this mean for my future?
Can Micah and I just leave?
Or…do I stay for-
“It’s not Guidry.”
Three words said in a deep baritone.
They break me out of my thought loop quick.
“What?”
Just because I was sure as sin that Guidry was the one in the ground, I turn to confirm it’s not him.
My stomach might turn at the sight on a normal day.
The man’s face is exposed along with the top of his chest. He’s older, white, and has a wrinkled face. His eyes are closed, and he’s the worst color in the crayon box of life. His lips are a terrible shade that no amount of anything could ever fix. If it wasn’t for the way his nose hooked and the clear as clear mole on his right cheek, I might not have recognized him.
But I do.
“That’s-That’s Dan Cleary,” I say, unable to avert my gaze. “My God.”
I pull out Beau’s phone and hand it to him. It’s like we’re on the same wavelength because he takes a picture.
“You sure?”
I nod.
“The last time I saw him was when Mimi and I ran into him at the grocery store a few months back. Everyone in town knows him. He used to be the medical examiner for the parish. He retired last month.”
That piques Beau’s interest way more than I thought it would. He takes the picture and starts to dig some more but I stop him.
“I can do this,” I say, though I’m not too sure about it. “You’ve already passed out onceandyou’ve been stabbed. I’m not about to make you do some manual labor when I can do it.”
I think he might fuss, but Beau has this look about him. He takes the gun back.
I get to work.
In a way, using my hands to uncover Dan Cleary’s dead body is almost relaxing. Maybe because I’m working with my hands, maybe because my mind can just drift for a bit. Maybe because the sun is still shining. Either way, I’m almost a bit upset when I’ve cleared off enough dirt to get Beau talking again.
“Can you rip the bag along the side so we can open it up and see his chest and stomach?”
I’m on my knees and dirty for it.
I nod though.
My fingernail hooks through the plastic like butter and the tearing comes easy. I accidentally touch Dante’s exposed skin in the process and shudder through it. He’s stiff as a board. When I stand to open the plastic, pulling it to the opposite side of the grave I also finally catch the smell.
I cough as Beau takes in the sight.
“Gunshot. Looks like one only.” He peers over the hole some more. “He’s wearing casual clothes. Guessing by the hole in his chest…not that close of range. A damn good shot though. Whoever did this? Good with a gun. Whoever dumped him here though, not so good at their job.”
Beau snaps another picture.
