Betrayed: A Rosato & DiNunzio Novel (Rosato & Associates Book 13) (6 page)

Judy looked past them, stricken. Iris was laying on the stretcher, inside a black vinyl body bag that had yet to be zipped, its sides gaping open. Her eyes remained closed, but her head was to the side, showing her ear and the gold crucifix earrings. Her hands were resting together on her body, but oddly, it looked as if one or two of her nails had been broken, the red polish chipped off and some of the rhinestones missing.

“Oh, Iris, no!” her aunt cried out, collapsing, and Judy grabbed her, hugged her close, and moved her away from the sight.

“Aunt Barb, come with me, I’m sorry, so sorry.”

Officer Hoffman took her aunt’s other arm gently. “Ladies, you must exit the perimeter.”

“No, no, no.” Aunt Barb sobbed, hanging her head, sagging between the policeman and Judy, and letting them lead her away from the stretcher and back to the Volkswagen, where they eased her, sobbing, into the passenger seat and closed the door behind her.

Judy faced Officer Hoffman. “I’m sorry that happened. I didn’t see that coming, but I should have.”

“No need to apologize.” Officer Hoffman nodded, sympathetic. “You never know how people are going to react in a situation like this. That’s why we do death notifications in pairs, and why we always make sure that the next-of-kin is sitting down when we do the notification. I’ve had the craziest things happen during a notification. One time, I told a man that his son had been killed in an auto accident, and the man jumped up from the couch and ran clear out of the house. We had to chase him down the street.”

“Oh my,” Judy said, thinking that being a policeman had to be one of the most demanding jobs on the planet.

“So thank you for your cooperation. I’ll make a note that your aunt made a personal identification.”

“I have one question before we go.” Judy couldn’t get Iris’s broken fingernails out of her mind, for some reason. “What happens next, to the body? Will there be an autopsy?”

“Yes, since the new D.A., we always autopsy after an auto accident to find out if there was a medical event.”

“How long would that take and who would get the results?”

“Let’s see, it’s Saturday night, so I bet the autopsy would be Sunday or Monday. They would release the body, probably on Tuesday, to the funeral home that would be picked out by whoever claims it.”

Judy thought ahead. “That might be my aunt, but I will do the arranging.”

“If she claims the body, she would be responsible for the expenses at the morgue. If the body were unclaimed, then it would be cremated at the county’s expense.” Officer Hoffman took a step closer. “You didn’t hear this from me, but we have a real problem with the undocumented bodies. The families know that if the body is unclaimed, we’ll cremate it at taxpayer expense, so they wait to claim the body, let the county cremate it, then claim it.”

Judy’s thoughts were stuck on Iris. “What if she didn’t die of natural causes? What if there’s something suspicious about the death?” She gestured at the guys in ties. “Can I talk to the detective on the case?”

“Sure, I’ll go get him. Stay here.” Officer Hoffman turned and jogged off toward the group, and Judy opened the car door and leaned in to her aunt.

“I’m so sorry, Aunt Barb. How are you?”

“It’s just so sad.” Aunt Barb had stopped crying, but her eyes were filmed and bloodshot, and her knit cap tilted askew. She slumped in her too-big parka, wiping her eyes with a balled-up Kleenex.

“Do you feel up to seeing the detective on her case? Officer Hoffman went to get him, and I can talk with him alone or with you.”

“Let’s do it, it’s important.” Her aunt dabbed at her eyes again. “I’ll stay in the car, though. I feel tired.”

“Of course.” Judy straightened up, left the passenger door open, and turned around to see Officer Hoffman approaching them with a man about six feet tall, with a bulky build, short hair, wire-rimmed aviator glasses, and crow’s-feet that placed him in his mid-forties. She put on a professional smile, which was another thing she hadn’t learned in law school.

Officer Hoffman gestured at the detective. “Ms. Carrier, this is Detective Raymond Boone. He’s assigned to the case, and I’ll take my leave now. Nice meeting you and your aunt.”

“Thanks.” Judy waved to him as he left, and Detective Boone extended a hammy hand.

“Ms. Carrier, I’m pleased to meet you. Thank you for coming out to make the identification.”

“Thanks for your help.” Judy accepted his handshake, firm enough to make her glad she worked out. “This is my aunt, Barb Moyer, who knew Iris. Iris’s last name was Juarez.”

Detective Boone looked down at her aunt with a sympathetic frown. “Ms. Moyer, I’m very sorry for your loss. I’m glad you asked to see me and I would’ve contacted you myself in a day or two, at your home.”

Aunt Barb sniffled. “Detective, I want you to do everything possible to find out what happened here because Iris was a wonderful person, and my dearest friend, and she deserves everything that you can do for her.”

“I certainly will.” Detective Boone nodded, setting his mouth. He slipped his hand inside his dark sport coat and extracted a ballpoint pen and a skinny notepad like Officer Hoffman carried. “Now, tell me about yourself and how you know the decedent.”

Aunt Barb cleared her throat. “I’m a landscape architect and I live in Kennett Square on Vaughn Road. Iris was my best friend, and she worked for me, as a gardener and as a companion, for the past three years or so.”

Detective Boone flipped open the cardboard cover of his pad, clicked on his pen, and started taking notes. He looked over at Judy, blinking behind his aviator glasses, which were smudged. “Ms. Carrier, how do you know Ms. Juarez?”

“I just met her today at my aunt’s house.”

Aunt Barb interjected, “Iris was leaving for her shift at Mike’s Exotics. She works the three-to-eleven. She came by this morning to bring me some cookies since my family is here for a visit.”

Judy noted that Aunt Barb wasn’t telling him about her cancer and respected that she wanted to keep it private. She let her aunt take the lead, since she had the information.

Detective Boone made another note. “Address and phone?”

Her aunt gave the phone number, then answered, “Point Breeze Avenue, Point Breeze Apartments, 1-C. Do you have her phone? She got a call today that concerned her, and I’m curious about it.”

“I’ll see if the phone was bagged yet.”

“She seemed fine when I saw her today and she never mentioned anything about heart trouble. She’s very healthy.”

“Do you know who her family doctor is, if she had one?” Detective Boone cocked his head.

“I don’t think she had one. She used the LCD, but she never went unless I nagged her.”

Detective Boone made another note. “Officer Hoffman tells me that you’re the emergency contact, and that Ms. Juarez didn’t have close family or friends in the area besides you. Is that correct?”

“She didn’t have family, but she did have a good friend, Daniella Gamboa. Somebody will have to notify her, about this. I never met her but Iris talked about her. They used to work together at Mike’s Exotics, but Iris told me Daniella doesn’t work there anymore.”

“Do you have contact info for Ms. Gamboa, like an address or phone?”

“No.”

“We’ll find Ms. Gamboa.” Detective Boone made a note. “We’ll conduct our investigation in the next few days, and we’ll keep you informed.” He turned to Judy. “Officer Hoffman mentioned to me that you’re an attorney in Philadelphia, so I expect you’ll be an asset.”

Judy tried to believe him, but nobody liked a Philadelphia lawyer, least of all a detective. “Thank you. I know that Officer Hoffman said that the case appears to be a natural death, and I’m sure that’s true, but—”

“The manner of death does appear to be natural, because of the condition of the body and the circumstances in which the body was found.” Detective Boone gestured at the Honda. “The facts suggest she had a heart attack while she was driving.”

“Which facts suggest that, specifically?”

“Several. As is typical, her body slumped forward and took pressure off the gas pedal, then the car drifted off the road into a hay roll. The engine was running when we found the car. The fuel tank was almost out of gas. The air bag did not deploy. This was a low-speed collision, there’s no injury or seatbelt marks that we could find.”

Judy took it in. “Well, my aunt had some questions, like the phone, and also that Iris should have been at work.”

Aunt Barb added, “She never misses work and is very diligent, so I can’t for the life of me understand why she wasn’t there.”

“I see.” Detective Boone made a note. “I will be sure to follow-up with the folks at Mike’s Exotics.”

“You know the place?” Judy asked.

“Of course.” Detective Boone smiled crookedly. “East Grove isn’t Philly.”

Judy continued, “Plus, my aunt made the point that it doesn’t make sense that Iris was on this road, at all. Apparently, it’s not on the way home from work.”

Aunt Barb chimed in, “This is way out of her way. There’s nothing around here. I can’t imagine what she was doing here, can you?”

Detective Boone scribbled in his pad. “She could’ve been going somewhere other than home, obviously. If she began to experience symptoms of heart attack or a stroke, such as confusion or disorientation, she wouldn’t know where she was driving. But that would be just speculation.”

Judy didn’t know enough to agree or disagree with him. “My aunt also made the point that her window was open, and Iris didn’t like to drive with the windows open because it messed up her hair.”

Aunt Barb nodded. “That’s true, and besides which, she only had a T-shirt on, not even a sweater. Women our age don’t do that. We’re always cold.”

Detective Boone looked up from his pad. “We can’t assume that she died in the evening hours. We don’t have the time of death yet. It’s certainly possible that she passed in the daytime. It was a sunny day, so she could have had the window open.”

“But people would have seen her and called the police.”

“Unlikely. This road isn’t well-traveled, and they might not have realized she was dead.”

“Detective Boone, there was one last detail that concerned me, which was that I noticed that Iris had a few broken nails.”

Aunt Barb looked up. “She did?”

“Yes, they hadn’t been broken earlier today, when I saw her.” Judy didn’t know how much more of this conversation her aunt could take. “I noticed because her nail polish was unusual, red with rhinestones. I’m not sure what it means, but I wanted to mention that to you.”

Aunt Barb bit her lip. “Iris took great care of her hands and nails. She loved to do her nails. She wore gloves when she gardened because of them.”

Detective Boone flipped his pad closed. “I wouldn’t want to speculate on the significance of someone’s breaking their nails. We have four pathologists in this county, and one of them will perform an autopsy, run toxicology tests, and do whatever else they think is indicated.”

Aunt Barb gasped, horrified. “Wait. What? You’re going to do an autopsy on Iris?”

“Yes.” Detective Boone pursed his lips, and his jowls fell into sober lines. “I know it’s, uh, distasteful, but it’s standard procedure in a case like this.”

“Oh no.” Aunt Barb covered her face with her hands, and Judy put her hand on her aunt’s shoulder, looking at Detective Boone.

“Thanks for your time. I think I’ll take my aunt home now.”

“Sure, sorry about your loss.” Detective Boone gave a short wave, then turned away, and Judy walked around the VW, climbed into the driver’s seat, and looked over at her aunt.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks.” Aunt Barb gave her nose a final blow. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I agree.” Judy put on her shoulder harness, twisted the key in the ignition, released the brake, and hit the gas, turning the car around to put the coroner’s van behind them. “I go straight, right?”

“Yes, and I’ll tell you when to turn left.”

“But we went straight to get here, didn’t we?” Judy glanced over.

“I know, but we’re not going home yet.”

Chapter Eight

“Where are we going?” Judy asked, worried.

“Mike’s Exotics, where Iris worked. I want to see if she went in today. I want to find out what happened.”

“Do you really feel up to that, right now?”

“Yes, and I don’t want to let it wait.” Aunt Barb stowed her Kleenex in her pocket and straightened in the passenger seat. “She would still be on shift, so they should be there. I want to talk to her boss. His name is Julio, and I met him once when I dropped her off, because her car was in the shop.” Aunt Barb pointed to the left. “This is the turn, up ahead.”

“But you’re tired. Maybe we should go home.” Judy spotted the break in the cornfield on the left, but there was no street sign.

“No, I’m fine, and what’s the point of putting it off?”

“You could sleep and get your feet under you, emotionally. You just got blindsided in the worst possible way.”

“But I only have the weekend. The mastectomy is Monday.”

“We can go tomorrow.”

“Julio might not be on the job tomorrow and he’s the one I want to talk to. I won’t sleep if I don’t understand what happened to her.” Aunt Barb turned her face to the window, but there was nothing to see in the dark.

“What is it you think happened?” Judy turned left onto another long country road. Bugs flew from the gloom into their headlights, making
tink tink
sounds when they hit the glass.

“I don’t know. I only know that what I’m hearing doesn’t make sense. She didn’t have any heart issues.”

“What’s the LCD you keep mentioning?”

“It’s the health service in Kennett Square, that the undocumented use.”

“So it can’t be the best medical care, can it? She could have had heart issues and not known it.”

“But she was strong, and able, and hard-working. And what about the car window? And the nails? And that phone call, the way she acted afterwards?”

“Those are strange little details, but they don’t necessarily mean anything.” Judy regretted having brought any of it up. “It’s not as if there was any sign of foul play.”