The Coroner, page 14
“So, the person who did this actually wanted him to perform better?” Nick was confused. How was this a motive for murder?
“Or someone wanted Emily to get caught. When the judges perform an inspection before competition, the horse and rider can be instantly disqualified if they see soring wounds.”
“That’s a brutal practice, Gary,” said Nick, his stomach turning.
“I agree. And I would never allow it. Knowingly.”
“Some people seem to think you did know. Some are saying Julie came to you about this, and you did nothing.”
“She did,” said Gary, growing frustrated. “And there was no way I could prove it.”
“Install cameras?”
“We’re on a shoestring budget here. Besides, anyone can disarm a camera.”
“Okay. Then who do you think might have done this, Gary? If you know, you need to tell me. Tell me now ’cause you know I’m gonna scratch like a rabid dog until I get answers. And I’m not gonna be happy if I have to come scratching back here.”
“Julie was like a little daughter to me. I’m sick about that video. Even more sick to think it might be someone from my own stable. So, if I knew who it was, I would be the first person on your doorstep.”
“Do you recognize the boots in this video?” He pulled up the video again, “Look again. Closely.”
Gary studied the image on the screen one last time and shrugged.
“They’re just your average work boots. Dime a dozen.” Gary’s face showed earnestness that Nick accepted for the moment. He was convinced there was something going on at Premiere, but as to whether Gary knew about it, he was unsure. In the meantime, with a few more careful inquiries, he was certain he could narrow in on a suspect list.
23
Bishop & Schultz Funeral Home was just a few blocks east of downtown Freeport. Cathy Bishop had inherited the business from her father, Carl Bishop, who had inherited it from his father-in-law, Josiah Schultz. And so, like many mortuaries, the stately, red-brick Victorian home had stayed in the family. The main funeral parlor encompassed most of the main floor, and in back was the prep area. Until she married Robert, Cathy had lived upstairs in a beautifully decorated upper level that boasted three bedrooms and three baths, a formal dining room, and a butler’s kitchen. Now, she rented it out to a newly married couple who saw the value of the inexpensive rent and thought the macabre location was hip and unique.
Emily remembered eating dinner up there with Cathy, Hugh, and her sister, Anna, in the year after her mother had passed. There was also a cellar under the home, where Cathy kept her embalming supplies and extra caskets. A detached garage was set in the back of the property. Here Cathy housed the company hearse. Driving up to the house, Emily noticed that nothing had changed.
She parked and headed toward the back door, which led into the prep area where she knew Cathy would be working. Cathy answered, swinging the door open with her hips, gloved hands pointed up in front of her chest. She welcomed Emily with a warm smile.
“Come on in, sweetheart,” Cathy sang as Emily entered. “Just finishing up on Julie. Dobsons want to hold the wake tomorrow night.”
“That soon?”
“Yeah, they’re holding it for three nights. We figure the crowds could get pretty big. And that leaves a few days for out-of-town family to arrive.”
“How did it go with them?” Emily said as she followed Cathy to the table where Julie lay.
“Surprisingly well. And fast. They selected all the upgrades, so I’m not gonna complain,” said Cathy who resorted to all-business when in the face of the darkest tragedy. “Gloria teared up a little, but not a single drop from the senator. Kinda strange, I thought.”
“Same reaction when I told them the initial news,” said Emily. “Politics.”
“I guess. The memorial service is Saturday. They requested a private burial afterward. Immediate family only,” Cathy explained as she cleaned up. “I can’t even imagine what they must be going through.”
“Me neither,” Emily said as she took a closer look at Cathy’s work. Julie was dressed in a classic red blouse, her riding pants, gold hoop earrings, and subtle makeup. Her chestnut hair flowed around her face. “You did a beautiful job on her.”
“Thank you,” Cathy replied. “But I’ll admit, it’s always a gut-wrenching job when it’s young people.”
“Any new leads on the video?” Cathy asked.
“Nick sent it to the state lab,” Emily said. “I’ll touch base with him later.”
Cathy closed Julie’s casket and pointed the gurney toward the swinging doors that led into the funeral parlor.
“I just hope Nick does a good job on this investigation. He missed a key piece of evidence at the scene,” said Emily. “Not that he knew it at the time, but that’s the point, right? You never know what you’re going to find.”
“You’re a perfectionist, like your dad,” Cathy said with a friendly glance. “And a bit of a skeptic.”
Emily didn’t take offense. It was the top personality trait of the best surgeons in the world. “You might call it an essential requirement of the job,” she said.
“Or an occupational hazard,” said Cathy. “Grab the other end of this casket?” Emily helped Cathy roll the casket through the swinging doors into the funeral parlor. They positioned it in the front of the parlor to face the guest area. Emily had been in this room dozens of times when she was working with her father, the last time at her mother’s funeral. It hadn’t changed much. A fresh coat of paint. New chairs and curtains. Same color scheme. Same feeling of serenity and sorrow. Only this time, she didn’t feel as hopeless as she had before.
“Straighten out your end a little. Square it to the wall.” Emily adjusted her side. She noticed along one wall of the parlor several dozen floral arrangements were already waiting to be placed around Julie. Their fragrant aroma sweetened the room.
“Well, now that we both know your father’s diagnosis and the length of his stubbornness, how long do you think you’ll stick around in Freeport?” Cathy asked.
“Actually, that’s why I came over. I wanted to see if there’s any way you can convince him to have the surgery,” said Emily.
“It’s his right to refuse,” Cathy replied.
Cathy selected a gargantuan funeral spray and set it in front of Julie’s casket. Emily took her cue and went to the wall to select the next biggest arrangement.
“And you stand by that? Even after losing Hugh to cancer?” Emily said. “I don’t understand.”
“I pushed Hugh into chemo, radiation, the whole gamut. And for what? He was miserable. I was miserable. And then he died in six months anyway. I’m not going to do that to your father,” she said. “He gets to decide what kind of quality of life he wants.”
“This is different. If Dad gets the surgery, he could live another ten or twenty years. Don’t you want that?”
“Of course I do. But it’s not up to me to decide.” Emily brought her two more floral arrangements, and Cathy set them at the base of the casket. “I know you don’t see it that way. You’ve lost a lot of years between you two, and it’s natural to want to try to make up for some of that lost time,” said Cathy.
“I don’t know what to say. What else can I do?”
“Well, there is one thing I’ve been thinking about, and I wanted to run it by you,” said Cathy. “This may come off as kind of harsh, but I don’t think I can give your father the kind of care he needs, and I think it would be best if he went into a rehab facility. Maybe even a retirement home.”
“I thought … he told me you were his therapy, and you would take care of him,” Emily said.
“That was his hope. And as much as I love him, I’m worried I just don’t have the bandwidth to do it. I’m not ready to retire. I would need to train a successor. That could take a couple years. And this community … well, they depend on the kind of care that I provide.” She continued to surround Julie’s coffin with flowers and plants.
“Have you told him?” Emily asked.
“Not yet. I was kind of hoping for your help,” she said. “I thought we could check out Birch Acres together. See if they have an opening. Maybe a one-bedroom overlooking the courtyard.”
“He’s gonna hate that,” Emily said.
“I know and I’m sorry it has to come to this. I know it probably seems like a selfish decision. But I cared for Hugh for those six months before he died, and kept up with the funeral home. It nearly killed me,” Cathy said. “I’m still gonna be there for your father. I’ll see him every morning and come home to him every night. But I need some help because I’m not getting any younger either.”
“What do you want me to do?” Emily asked.
“Help me convince him to do what’s best,” said Cathy.
“You can clearly see how well that’s worked out,” Emily said with sarcasm. “Look, I’m on board to try to help you. But how do you envision this playing out?” A text pinged on Emily’s phone. Brandon.
“I’ve thought about it, and it’s a little sneaky. We’ll make the arrangements with Birch Acres first. Then I’ll talk to him. And then maybe you can talk to him. If he hears it from both of us, he’ll be more inclined to go peacefully. And who knows? Maybe this will prompt him to have that surgery. In that case, we can continue living at home,” Cathy said optimistically.
“I see what you’re doing,” Emily grinned. “You’re using reverse psychology to give him an ultimatum.”
Cathy winked at her. “Call it what you like. I’m a practical woman. Always have been. This is the most practical solution I can come up with.”
“What about the house? Will you sell it?” Emily asked.
“We’ll have to. I’ll give you first right of refusal,” she said.
“I don’t know what I would do with the house. But if you need help downsizing, I can give you a hand,” Emily offered.
“I would love it. And then, there’s your father’s medical practice to think about. We’ll need to officially close it down. Go through the files. Notify the patients that he’s retiring. Take care of outstanding bills. And there’s the whole ME office to deal with. He keeps everything at home, so we need to get those ME records sorted and sent to the county so they can house them from here on out. I’m exhausted just listing all of this.”
“That’s going to be a big job. I can get some paid time off for a couple of weeks and then maybe manage a few weekends here and there,” said Emily, checking her text from Brandon.
How are things? Are you coming home soon?
She knew she shouldn’t read tone into a text, but she did. And she was annoyed. She had told Brandon she would be here through the weekend, and he had promised to come up. Why was he backpedaling?
Cathy opened a closet door and rolled out a long rack of folding chairs. Emily lilted a little as she read the text again, and knew she had to tell Brandon she would be here longer. A week or more. She glanced down at her diamond. This engagement was not off to a good start.
“Mind giving me a hand again with the chairs?” Cathy asked as she began unloading the chairs and stacking them in piles of five around the room. “I usually set up ten rows of ten. But this time I think we’re gonna need all two hundred. So let’s add another ten rows, five on either side, sort of angled off the middle two sections.”
Emily was surprised by how quickly she was getting embedded in life here and how familiar and comfortable it felt. She climbed into her Leaf and texted Brandon.
Here for a while.
She drove a few miles and then pulled over when she heard the ping. Brandon: Not sure if I can make it up there. Work stuff. Call you later.
This was incredulous. Her father was in the hospital. Basically dying. Was work really more important? Was she glimpsing a sneak peak of their future? She immediately jumped into thoughts of the future … what if they had kids? Would she end up ditching her career to carry the bulk of the child care? No. That wasn’t Brandon’s style. He would never do that to her. No, instead they would employ a series of au pairs like the ones Brandon had as a child. This didn’t sit well with Emily either. She knew the value of having a real mother around. And after losing her own, it would be hard to entrust the bulk of child care to someone else. But she didn’t want to do it with an absentee father either. Anxiety stirred in Emily’s gut again.
She took a deep breath. She wasn’t ready to go visit her father again. She didn’t want to go back to her hotel room and sit there. Alone with her troubled thoughts about Julie’s unsolved murder. And there was no way she could fall asleep, although she needed it badly. Instead, she texted Nick: Any news?
He texted right back: Chasing a lead.
Emily thought for a second, then typed: Anything I can do?
Nick’s response was immediate: Come to FHS.
24
As Emily traveled up a set of steps that led into Freeport High School, it brought back a wave of memories. The last time Emily had been here, she was ditching school at the beginning of her junior year to catch a bus that would take her to Chicago. On that warm autumn day, as her tennis shoes hit the last step, she turned around and looked up to the second story, to the third set of windows to the left, where Nick was in trig class. He had been staring back at her, imploring her with a confused look. She gave him a little wave and a sad smile. And then disappeared. The only thing that assuaged her guilt about leaving so suddenly was the note she’d left in his locker. That, of course, he never got. Fate is tragically funny sometimes.
Emily entered the high school gymnasium, where Nick had said he would be, and saw him talking to Mindy Wilkins. Mindy had been a senior when Emily and Nick were freshmen. She and Nick were sitting in the bleachers while Mindy was overseeing cheerleading practice. Mindy held her attention on the floor for a moment as her girls performed a three-tiered mount, then dismounted perfectly. She held up her thumb in approval and then spun her index finger in a circle to indicate “Again.”
Emily climbed the bleachers to meet them.
“Oh my gosh, Emily, how are you?” Mindy reached out for a hug, which confused Emily because she didn’t remember a single time Mindy had ever spoken to her during her freshman year.
“I’m good. Nice to see you,” Emily said, hugging her back.
“I heard you did Julie’s autopsy on account of your dad and all. How is he? We’re all really bummed about his heart attack,” Mindy said. “The girls are putting together a bake sale to raise money for a memorial fund for Julie, did you know? Isn’t that sweet of them? They make me proud.”
“I didn’t know Julie was a cheerleader.” Emily said.
“Oh no, but her ex-boyfriend, David Sands, plays varsity basketball. So she kinda became a part of the basketball family,” Mindy explained. “Came to almost all the games to see him play.”
“Emily, you haven’t changed a bit,” Mindy said and lifted Emily’s left hand to look at her ring. “That thing is huge. He’s got some dough, huh?”
Emily squirmed inside, and thankfully Nick jumped in before she could think of an appropriate response. “Emily’s helping me with Julie’s case. Is it okay if we ask you a few questions?”
“Wait. You’re here about Julie?” Mindy said, catching on. Emily had always remembered her as a little ditzy.
“Can we go somewhere private?” Nick asked.
“Sure.” Mindy called to her girls to take a break. She led Emily and Nick outside the auditorium to a private spot in the hallway.
“I need to verify something, and I was told you could help me out,” Nick said.
“I’ll try. Of course. Anything to help,” Mindy said stopping them between the guys’ and girls’ locker rooms.
“I’m wondering, can you tell us where were you the morning of Julie’s death?” Nick asked.
“I was at home,” Mindy said simply.
“Your home?” Nick asked.
“Yeah, my house,” said Mindy. “I’m confused. Am I under suspicion or something?”
“No, you’re not under suspicion, Mindy,” Nick said and then paused. “Was there anyone else in your home that morning?”
“Just me. I live alone. You know that, Nick,” she said.
“Mindy, I want you to know that whatever you say here between us is confidential.”
“Wait a sec, this is about … it’s someone else you—hey, look. We haven’t told anybody yet.”
“Who are you referring to?” asked Nick. He couldn’t lead the questioning.
“Well, Gary, of course. Is he a suspect?” she gasped. “’Cause, I mean Gary would never, ever, ever hurt so much as a kitten.”
“Was Gary at your house that morning?”
“Yes, he was,” she told Nick. “I made him breakfast, and then he left for work.”
Nick nodded as he jotted it into his notepad. Emily noted how smoothly and graciously Nick conducted his questioning. People really responded to him. He was a natural. Firm, but friendly. Professional and candid. He cared about work, but he cared more about people.
“He’s not in trouble, is he?” Mindy said. “Just be honest with me.”
“Are you absolutely, one hundred percent sure about your answer?” Nick said.
“I’m being honest. Gary was at my house ’til about eight fifteen,” Mindy explained, her voice steady and insistent. “Don’t you believe me? Nick Larsen, when have I ever lied to you?”
“You just did,” said Nick with a grin. “Don’t worry, I get it. And I believe you.”
“Why would you think he did it?” Mindy asked.
“I can’t talk about that, Mindy. You’ve been very helpful. Thank you.”
“You’re crazy to think Gary had anything to do with that girl’s death. You stay out of our business. And you keep your mouth shut about Gary and me,” Mindy said with an angry flush rising in her cheeks. “I’ve gotta get back to practice.”
As Mindy turned and took off down the hall, Emily noticed a slight bump in her mid-section, tastefully hidden by her baby-doll top.
