With a Vengeance (9 page)

Ten

“I’ve never been so glad to see eight a.m. come around,” Earl said, digging his car keys from his pocket.

Zoe stood at the door between the EMS office and the ambulance bay. “Me too.” However, she wasn’t looking forward to the day ahead. Earl would go home to his wife and kids and spend his Saturday off enjoying family time.

Zoe, on the other hand, planned to make a quick stop at the Vance Township Police Department, followed by another quick stop at Rose’s to get washed up. Then she’d go by the barn to make sure nothing required her attention. And finally on to the morgue in Brunswick for the young firefighter’s autopsy at nine. She’d be late, but so be it. Afterward, she intended to look in on Yancy.

Tony charged into the office from the back of the station carrying a clipboard. “Hey. You two still okay with pulling an extra shift on Monday so B crew can take off and be at the funeral home for Barry?”

“Yeah,” Earl said somberly. “Absolutely.”

Zoe nodded. “Count on it.”

“Good.” Tony jotted on the notepad clipped to the board. “We’ll take turns going to visitation both Monday and Tuesday as emergency calls allow. The funeral’s Wednesday morning. We’ll all go as a group, in uniform.”

“Let’s just hope the cops will have caught the guy by then,” Earl said, voicing what Zoe had been thinking.

“Amen to that.” Tony set the clipboard on the edge of the desk. “Enjoy your weekend.”

The clouds, which had dumped so much rain on them last night, appeared to be breaking up. Patches of blue peeked through in spots. With a little luck, it might turn out to be a gorgeous autumn day. Zoe and Earl crossed Main Street to the parking lot cattycorner from the garage.

“See you Monday,” Earl said without any enthusiasm.

“Give Olivia and the kids a hug for me.”

A smile lit his face as he chirped open his minivan’s front door. “You bet.”

Zoe climbed into the Chevy’s cab, tossed her purse on the passenger side of the bench seat, and turned the key.

Click.

“Come on, baby,” she cooed.

Click. Click. Click.

“Come on. Start.”

Click. Click. Click. Click.

It may have required some tinkering to get the truck started lately, but not usually this much. Zoe watched Earl drive away as Gabe the mechanic’s words echoed in her ears.
Except one of these days it isn’t gonna. Sooner than later, most likely. You’re gonna need a new starter.

She sat and stared at the dashboard. Tried again. Still nothing but a click. Crap.

She slammed the steering wheel. “I don’t have time for this,” she told the truck.

It responded with passive-aggressive silence.

Several more attempts yielded the same results. With a defeated sigh, Zoe pulled her cell phone from her pocket and punched in the number for Bud Kramer’s Garage. Did the fact that she kept his number saved in her contact list hint that Pete’s advice to buy a new vehicle might have some validity?

Standing outside her truck, she thought she heard Bud chuckle gleefully as he told her a flatbed would be there in fifteen minutes.

So much for her plans for the morning. She pulled up Franklin Marshall’s number on her phone, but before she could punch the send button, “I Fought the Law” started playing. “Good morning, Pete.”

“Hi.” He sounded drained. “So you made it through the rest of your shift okay?”

Zoe leaned against the Chevy’s fender, breathing in the rain-washed breeze. “Yeah. It was a quiet night. Except for…”

“Yeah. Have you heard any news on Yancy?”

“No.” And she now had no way to get to the hospital to visit him. “I’ll call later. Maybe he’ll be in a room and able to talk.”

There was a pause. “I thought you’d stop in to see him after the autopsy.”

She cringed. If she told him she wouldn’t be attending it, she’d have to explain why, which would be followed by a round of I-told-you-so’s. But she wasn’t about to lie to Pete either. “I’m not going to the autopsy.”

Another pause. “Have you fulfilled your commitment already?”

“No. This would have been number six.”

“And you’re skipping it because…?”

A litany of excuses played through her mind. She couldn’t deal with an autopsy on a kid. She had to give a riding lesson. She’d already decided against a career in the Coroner’s Office. With a defeated sigh, she said, “Because my truck won’t start.”

The third silence from Pete’s end of the call was followed by his deep, rumbling laugh. A sound she rarely heard. But liked.

“Don’t you dare say ‘I told you so.’”

“I wouldn’t think of it.” The laughter evolved into almost a giggle, and Zoe pictured Pete wiping tears from his eyes. “Where are you?” he asked.

“Waiting for one of Bud’s guys to come get me with the flatbed.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

Good question. “I guess I’ll call Rose to come get me.”

“Forget it. I’m on my way.”

He hung up before Zoe had a chance to argue. She stared at the phone’s screen pronouncing the call ended. And smiled.

Gabe Weber was behind the wheel of the big flatbed when it pulled into the parking lot a few minutes later.

“That was quick,” Zoe said as he climbed down. “Not that I’m complaining.”

Gabe gave her a broad grin.

“I aim to please.” He planted his fists on his hips and eyed the Chevy as if it were an insolent child. “
You
again.”

Defensive of her truck, she protested, “In all fairness, this is the first time it’s needed to be towed.”

“True. I apologize. Up until now, she’s always managed to limp in under her own power.” Gabe gave Zoe a teasing grin. “What seems to be the problem today?”

She slouched. “I guess that starter you warned me about finally quit altogether.”

The mechanic tsk-tsked. “I told you so.”

She had a feeling she was going to get sick of hearing that.

Without any further heckling, Gabe headed to the cab of his flatbed. Zoe stood back and watched him maneuver the big truck into position in front of the Chevy, blocking one lane of Main Street. Small town that Phillipsburg was, the disruption in traffic amounted to an occasional car needing to wait for oncoming vehicles before going around. Minutes later, Gabe secured the pickup aboard the flatbed and motioned for Zoe to climb in. “Unless you wanna walk,” he said.

Bud’s place was less than a quarter mile away, but she opted to ride. With the luck she was having, she’d probably get hit by a car while crossing the road.

Gabe parked in front of the garage’s second bay and left the diesel engine idling. Zoe slid down from the passenger side and followed the mechanic inside.

Medic Two still sat where she’d last seen it. She patted its hood on her way past, offering comfort to an old friend.

Bud Kramer wheeled his chair over to the cashier’s window. “Long time no see.”

Zoe forced a sour smile. “I couldn’t wait to give you more of my money.”

He chortled with the same glee she’d heard over the phone.

Gabe leaned on the counter next to Zoe. “It’s the starter, boss. Spotted it when she was in before.”

Bud scribbled on a form. “Do you happen to know if we’ve got the part in stock, Gabe?”

“I checked. We don’t.”

Bud nodded. “I’ll call the auto parts store.”

Zoe envisioned more dollar signs. And an emptier bank account.

He glanced up from the work order. “How’s Yancy?”

She really needed to call and get an answer to that question. “I haven’t heard anything this morning.”

Bud shook his head. “It’s damned scary. Stuff like that just don’t happen around here.”

“Yeah,” Gabe agreed. “Some nut out there shooting at anyone driving something with a flashing light on top. You never know who’s gonna be next. Maybe even a tow truck driver.”

Zoe opened her mouth to point out tow truck drivers weren’t usually first on the scene, but decided against it. She had no clue what was in the shooter’s mind. Gabe might be right. “We all have to be careful out there.”

Gabe nodded. “That’s for sure.”

The door from outside scraped open, and Pete strolled in. Bud glanced up. “Hey, Chief.”

Gabe straightened and thumped the counter with his fist. “Guess I better get back to work.”

“That would be a nice change,” Bud said. “Park her Chevy over by the fence.”

“You got it, boss.” Gabe ambled away.

Bud looked at Zoe. “We’ve got a full house with that ambulance holding top priority. Probably won’t have your truck done until late Tuesday, early Wednesday, depending on what we find when we get in there.” He separated the carbonless copies of the work order and slid the pink one across the counter to her. “I’ll call you.”

She stared at the paper.

Late Tuesday or early Wednesday? She pictured riding Windstar to and from work.

Pete leaned one forearm on the counter next to her. “Bud, you’re the biggest thief in Monongahela County.”

The garage owner gave Pete a gap-toothed smile. “And you can’t even arrest me. Drives you crazy, don’t it?” Bud executed a perfect one-eighty in his wheelchair and rolled away.

Both Pete and Zoe stepped back from the window and faced each other. For the first time, she noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the pallor of his skin. “You look like you haven’t slept in a month.”

He rubbed the space between his brows. “More like two. What time’s the autopsy? Nine?”

“Yeah.” She checked her phone. 8:35. “I forgot. I need to call Franklin and let him know I won’t be there.”

Pete rested a gentle hand on the small of her back, walking her toward the door. “You can call him from the car. Tell him we’ll be late, but we’re on our way.”

She glanced down at her uniform as they stepped outside. So much for stopping at Rose’s house and changing. “Okay. But I need to call Patsy too and see if she can make sure everything’s okay at the barn. I was planning to stop on my way—” Another forgotten plan for the day surfaced. “Oh, crap.”

“What?” Pete opened the Explorer’s passenger door for her.

“Patsy and I were supposed to go riding this morning.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand.”

He was right. She would. She always did. That was the problem. Zoe tried to remember the last time she and Patsy had gone trail riding together and couldn’t. For a moment, Zoe considered telling Pete to drop her off at the farm. Forget the autopsy. Forget that Yancy and Curtis were hospitalized. Forget the upcoming funeral for Barry.

Forget everything. Leave her cell phone behind, pack a lunch, and ride off into the woods.

“Zoe?” Pete roused her from her daydream.

She blinked. He was still holding the door for her. With a wistful sigh, she climbed in and dialed Patsy to cancel their horseback date.

By the time they reached Brunswick, the sky had cleared to a beautiful blue. The trees and grass still glistened from last night’s rain, a few splashes of gold and orange leaves even more vivid against the green. Pete shot a glance at Zoe, whose face was turned away from him, and wondered if she wished she hadn’t cancelled her riding plans.

The dashboard clock read 9:34 as he pulled into the underground lot at the hospital and parked outside the entrance marked Authorized Personnel Only. No other signage labeled it as the morgue. Zoe didn’t wait for him. She stepped out of the SUV and approached the glass doors, hesitating long enough for Pete to catch up.

He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “You’ll be fine,” he whispered into her ear.

For a moment, she leaned against him. A simple gesture of accepting his support. But it sent a fire through him. He longed to take her in his arms and never let go. To shield her from all her fears and doubts. To protect her from the maniac out there gunning down her coworkers and friends. But she steeled herself and pushed away.

Side by side, they stepped forward. The doors swished open, and they entered the hallway to the morgue.

The outer office was empty. A window between it and the autopsy suite revealed Wayne Baronick and Franklin Marshall observing the forensic pathologist and a tech work on the body.

Zoe grabbed two sets of disposable scrubs from a cart in the corner and handed him one. They suited up in silence before stepping into the other room.

Marshall and Baronick turned toward them. “You’re late,” the coroner said.

“I had car trouble,” Zoe said.

Baronick glanced from her to Pete and back. He grinned. “Nothing like having the Chief of Police as your personal chauffeur.”

Pete aimed a scorching look at the detective.

Zoe ignored the comment and asked Marshall, “What do you want me to do?”

Without looking up from his work, Doc Abercrombie called over his shoulder, “You’re just in time to run the gut.”

Pete noticed the color fade from Zoe’s cheeks. He had a feeling he’d missed an inside joke and would have to ask her about it later.

His suspicions were confirmed when Marshall snickered. “I’m going to give you a pass this time.” The coroner grew serious. “You’ve had a rough couple of days.”

Pete motioned toward the body on the table. “Have you found anything?”

“So far I can tell you there’s only one gunshot wound. Unlike the first victim, the shot wasn’t through and through. The bullet entered here.” Marshall thumbed the area at the base of his own left ribcage. “It shattered the tenth rib. We’re still examining the abdominal tissues and organs, but x-rays show fragments all through the right lower quadrant. I’m willing to bet we find the bullet caused massive organ trauma before hitting the ilium and fragmenting.”

“Fragments,” Baronick echoed. “Anything that looks like it might be big enough to be identifiable?”

Marshall shrugged. “Doubtful. I’ll let you know as soon as we have anything more.”

Pete thanked him, and the coroner headed back to the table.

“As much as I appreciate the company, there’s no sense in all of us hanging out here.” Baronick nudged Zoe. “Especially if you aren’t gonna jump in there and give us a show.”

She shot him a dirty look.

As much as Pete detested agreeing with the smug detective, this time he had to. “You stick around and collect any evidence they find and get it to the lab. I’ll head upstairs and see if Yancy’s up to answering questions.” He touched Zoe’s arm. “You with me or do you want to stay here?”