I had a large bruise on my right elbow from when I fainted last night. Tam said that I had hit it against the desk as I went down. I fumbled in my medicine cabinet for my Arnica gel. I applied it liberally as I walked out into the kitchen.
“Breakfast is ready,” he said as he placed two plates of hot steaming pancakes on the table. He didn’t waste any time to kiss me good morning, pulling the chair out for me at the same time.
“Thank you.”
“How are you feeling?”
I shrugged, and managed a small smile. It was impossible not to smile at him. He had the most beautiful brown eyes; deep and rich like the earth, with the tiniest flakes of gold juxtaposed throughout the iris. Every time I looked into his eyes I’d melt like chocolate. We ate in silence, which was fine with me, not that I didn’t have anything to say to him or that I didn’t want to talk to him, but rather the pancakes were incredibly delicious and I kept shoving them into my mouth so that the taste buds on my tongue wouldn’t have a second to lament the absence of the next bite. But as everything does, breakfast, too, came to an end, and though I could have kept eating until I died, I stopped and told Tam that he should make pancakes for me every day for breakfast. He said he would if I really wanted him to. I think I really wanted him to.
A knock came at the door and I immediately thought of Marissa and her lasagna. Tam was fully dressed, but I was not. He graciously offered to answer the door while I put on my uniform. From the conversation I overheard from putting my ear against the bedroom door, Marissa wasn’t at all surprised to see Tam here opening my door. From the outside, it looed like he had just stopped in on his way to work, and with the town knowing what kind of state I was in, it seemed natural to have various people who knew me well enough to stop in and see how I was doing. I heard rustling around in the kitchen and then a door close. I peeped out of the crack in the door and saw Tam bending over in front of the refrigerator. He was fighting for room with the crap piled up in there, trying to make the lasagna fit. I laughed at the sight of this big, strong man fighting with helpless moldy leftovers.
I walked out of the bedroom fully dressed and as ready as I could be to face another day. Tam smiled at me. “Ready?” I shrugged my shoulders. It started to snow lightly as we walked to Tam’s truck.
We were the first ones to pull into the parking lot. We sat there with the motor off for a few minutes.
“You don’t have to go in, if you don’t want to. I’ll take you home.”
I considered it. But then I thought of Kat, for some reason. “We’ve come all of this way. Tom is expecting us.”
“We’re early.” It was quarter after seven. “Coffee?”
“Yeah, that would be good.”
We stepped out of the truck and walked the two and a half blocks to Maggie’s Diner. Tom had taken me to lunch there one day many, many months ago and I remember their incredible coffee. It was just plain, old, ordinary diner coffee, as far as I know. $1.50 gets you a cup with refills, but as I took a sip, I felt that I was being undercharged. I would have gladly given more, so I left the waitress a five-dollar tip on two coffees. Something about this liquid was magical in the sense that it made me warm with one sip; it made me calm despite the caffeine. I would come to see Tom more often for just this one reason. We took refills in our to-go cups and headed back to Tom’s office. He had just pulled up as we stepped into the parking lot. He smiled and waved at us as he got out of his car. “Did you bring me one?” He half joked. We followed him in and sat in his office as he took his coat off and settled his papers for the day. He sat down too, wanting to talk to us before we went down to the morgue to take a look at Will. I asked myself if I was ready for this. This is what I do, I told myself. I arrive on scene, I examine the body and the surrounding area for evidence. Even the scent of death can tell me so much about the crime. The bitter and pungent odors of blood can lead you into directions that seem impossible, unthinkable. The blood is the life of a body; in death, the secrets of its life are revealed, even if those secrets don’t want to be told. I’m the one who figures out what it’s trying to say. And when I do, I get to chase down the bad guys. This is what I lived for.
For someone who was obsessed with death, I wasn’t taking this all very well. Will was one of those people I cared about and I wasn’t sure how I would react to seeing his body laid out, but I had to keep myself professional if not for the sake of my job, then for the sake of my sanity.
Tom cleared his voice and straightened several papers that he lay down before him on the desk.
“You both knew Mr. Brown well?”
“Yes, we did.” I answered. I was surprised to hear how clear my voice was. I was positive that anything I would say would come out raspy and broken.
“Do you recall him having a drinking problem?”
Tam and I looked at each other. Occasionally we would have to give him a ride home after hours because he would be too intoxicated to drive, or he would be too intoxicated to find his car. Either way...
“Yes, he would indulge once in a while,” said Tam. ‘Once in a while’ really was putting it lightly.
“Molly, Tam- the reason why I am asking this is because Mr. Brown had three times the legal amount of alcohol in his bloodstream at the time of his death.”
We looked at each other again. Three times the legal amount was a little excessive, even for Will. Hell, I’ve never been half that drunk!
“Do think that is what killed him?”
“No,” Tom said, “he most definitely froze to death.” He flipped through his papers and held one up, reading to himself, like a reminder. “Point three-five his blood alcohol was. He most likely passed out and froze before the alcohol could take full effect. There was no vomit found around him or on him. Blood vessel constriction shows an immediate freeze.” He paused, maybe to give us enough time to process. “He didn’t have a coat on, just a flannel shirt, under shirt, thin pants and socks. No shoes. No hat. No gloves, etc. In fact, he was so cold he was frozen. His skin, everything was frozen solid. He was barely thawed enough to perform an autopsy.”
“Tom, I hope you don’t think me ignorant, but why exactly did you want me to come down here? You could have told me all of this over the phone.”
“Ah, yes. Well... if you are ready, I’d like to show you the body.”
“As ready as I’ll ever be. Tam?”
“Let’s do it.”
Tom led the way down to his newly remodeled morgue. To me it looked like every other morgue- stainless steel refrigerated compartments, shiny stainless steel walls and examining table. Stainless steel is easier to clean, that’s why a lot of restaurant kitchens use it, too. I used to work in a restaurant that had all stainless steel in its kitchen. It had the same feeling as this place: dead.
“He’s over here.” He opened one of the refrigerated compartments and pulled out a wide, elongated tray. A white sheet covered the body of my friend. I took a semi-deep breath and exhaled as Tom pulled the sheet from Will’s head and upper torso. It really was Will- a little black and blue, but relatively the same.
“Do we have a positive I.D.?”
Tam and I nodded.
“Ok,” continued Tom, “look here-“ He pointed to Will’s torso.
There were markings on his chest; weird markings, like something scratched him. Etched into his skin were lines and crosses that were arranged in a more uniform pattern than just random animal scratches. The placement, too, were strange. They were only on his chest, nowhere else. Tam asked if there were photos taken. His voice slightly startled me; I had forgotten he was there. Will had been his friend too. I looked at him. His eyes, his beautiful eyes were slightly red. All this time I was so worried about how I was going to react, I had forgotten about Tam. I had become selfish in my sorrow. Tom was indicating the different marks and Tam was matching up the photos taken so that he could get a bearing on how they were laid across his body. The photos were marked, but Tam wanted something to do while we examined Will, perhaps to keep his mind busy so he didn’t have to think about how his friend lay dead on the cold, hard bed. I would have done the same thing if I had gotten to the photos first.
Looking closely at the markings, I could see that it must have been difficult to carve in. I shuddered at the thought that someone carved these lines into Will’s skin. The little bit of blood that it let out was dried around the wounds, making it easy for us to see. If he had been washed, as customary after an investigation, the blood would have been washed away as well as any chance of deciphering it- that was how lightly it was scratched into the skin.
“John Grimly, the coroner, believes that these were made pre-mortem, self inflicted, hence the light bleeding.” I could feel his eyes on me. He really wanted my opinion. I really didn’t want to give it to him.
“Boss?” asked Tam, “What do you think?”
“Did you find anything sharp on him?” I wondered.
“No, but it could have been left in the snow,” replied Tom.
I took a few seconds to just think about what I was seeing, and then, when I started to think of nothing, it came to me. “I don’t agree, Tom.” I could see him frown from the corner of my eye. I could see Tam frown too.
“Why’s that?”
I couldn’t answer right away. I tried to stall, giving me more time to sort out what I was thinking and to give me more time to actually believe what I was thinking. I moved my body to be in line with Will and showed with my left hand how Will would have carved it, if he was able to have done it. Honestly, I thought he would have been too drunk to do it. And too cold. And too harmless.
“Have you ever tried carving into a frozen turkey?” Tom asked.
“No,” I said slowly. I knew what he was getting at, but I ignored him for a minute so that I could think.
“Will was frozen solid. There’s no way someone would have carved him after he died,” said Tom.
“We have had below freezing temperatures since before Will was missing,” Tam chimed in.
I said nothing.
“And besides, it’s not legible. He could have done it with his right hand.” Tom paused. He was getting frustrated, and I couldn’t blame him. “There’s blood, Molly,” Tom so kindly reminded me.
I asked, “What if he was found immediately after he died?”
“That would be quite a coincidence. Someone would have to have been stalking him,” said Tom
“Either way, his skin would have been half frozen if these marks were made either before or after his death,” reasoned Tam.
This was weird. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Had Will done this? Or worse, had someone else? Perhaps it was my murderer? I shuddered cold chills. Then I remembered that I was in a refrigerated room.
“Do you have his effects?” Asked Tam.
“Yes, they’re in this room.” Tom started to lead Tam out of the room. Tam turned to me and touched my arm. I looked at him.
“Are you going to be ok?”
“Yes. I’ll be fine.”
“All right. I’ll be right back.” I nodded an ok. I stared fixated at Will’s markings. The images burned into my mind so that when I closed my eyes I could still see them. When I opened them again, Kat stood before me on the other side of Will.
“Hey, how long have you been here?”
She laughed. “For a while.” I nodded in acknowledgement of her statement. “Is this Will?” I nodded again. “He has a nice face.”
“He was a really nice man. I’m really going to miss him.”
“What’s with the markings?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“He didn’t do it.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know.”
“Can I quote you on that?”
She smiled. “Crystal ball...” She held up her hands and made a rounding motion like she was rubbing an invisible ball.
“Yeah, yeah. Kat, this is serious. If you have nothing to offer...”
“We are a team, remember? Ok, let’s think of this rationally.” She walked around to his head and looked at him from his head down the front of his body. “Was he right or left handed?”
“Left.”
“Look at the way the lines go-“
“Exactly. They slant right. To his right. If he was right handed, he could have made these, but it could be that some one else who was left handed could have done the same...“ I walked around to the side of him again and pretended to write on him with my own right hand. “No, not left handed, right handed, “ I corrected myself. I looked at my hand. It was my right hand, I think. For a moment, right and left seemed to be the same thing. “Come here- imagine if you stood in front of him-“ I stood in front of Kat and mimicked writing on her chest. “Kneel down.” I knelt down with her. “Will was found frozen sitting on a hill.” I pictured Will on the hill by the school. I then imagined myself squatting in front of him and trying to carve something into his body.
“This is kind of hard to do...” I mumbled.
“Is that his blood?”
“What?” I asked because I had been thinking of the same question.
“Is that his blood?” She repeated.
“I don’t think it was tested. There really is no reason why it shouldn’t be his blood...” I mumbled, again, this time because I didn’t exactly believe what I had said.
“There is no reason why a frozen dead man should have things carved in his chest, Molly. You know very well that you should always think about the impossible and the unreasonable; because even the impossible is possible and even the unreasonable has some reason to it.”
“How did you get so smart?”
“I learn from the best.”
“I’d like to meet who that is someday.”
“Maybe you should try looking in the mirror,” she said with a sly smirk. The last time I looked into a mirror, I was frightened at the sight I saw. It turned out to be nothing at all, but I still can’t bring myself to look into one. I brushed my teeth with my eyes closed this morning, and I don’t think my hair looks too disheveled in a basic ponytail. I glanced at the grinning Cheshire Kat. What secrets did she keep behind those big, beautiful eyes, I wondered. Tam and Tom started to make their way back into the room. They were chatting as they came through the door. I was still squatted on the floor when they saw me. Tam thought I was sick.
“Are you all right?” He asked as he made his way to help me up.
“Yeah, I’m Ok. Tam, I mean, Tom- do me favor, before I forget; can you have the blood tested around these wounds?”
“Tested for what?”
“I wonder if this blood is actually Will’s blood.”
“It crossed my mind, but the way it spreads out around the wounds it looks to be coming from him.”
“I know, and I agree, it does look like his blood. I just want to know for sure that it is his. Or isn’t”
“Ok, Molly. I’ll have those tests done now.”
“Thanks, Tom.”
“I think it’s time for a break. I have the photos. Let’s get a refill on the coffee.” Tam didn’t need to repeat himself, nor did he have to beg me to leave this place. I went willingly. Tom said that he would join us in a few minutes as he snapped on a pair of purple rubber gloves and proceeded to take a sample of the blood around the scratches.
Tam and I walked out into a very sunny day. As we crossed the street, Tam put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him a little. I tripped and nearly fell into him instead. He caught me and righted me. He didn’t say anything. He was either used to my clumsiness or he felt the same way I did.
We chose a booth near the door so that Tom would be able to find us. Maggie served the coffee. We sat in silence, sipping the hot liquid, letting its magic work its wonder. We sat there for a few minutes before the sound of the radio drifted into my ears. The news reporter told listeners about the story of how the quick thinking of a pilot saved the lives of the ninety-nine people aboard the passenger plane. One of the plane’s engines exploded as they were trying to take off of the runway. I couldn’t hear the exact the details, but somehow he managed to halt the plane despite the high speeds they were traveling at when the engine exploded. The voices of the passengers sounded frightened as they recounted their experiences: “We thought we were going die,” said one woman. “I held my wife’s hand and just looked into her eyes,” said a man. “I pleaded with God, ‘Please, God, not today,’” said a woman. Another woman claimed that the man sitting next to her hugged her in fear that they were all going to die. The air was a jumble of muffled voices all expressing their gratitude for not dying. No one had said that they were happy to be alive. I know that “not dying” and “being alive” basically mean the same thing, but for some reason, they sounded so different. I wondered what I would have said if I were on that plane: would I have been happy that I didn’t die, or happy that I was still alive? Would I have been happy at all?
“The coffee is really good,” Tam said to Maggie as she refilled our cups. I looked up at her, surprised to see her. She smiled at me.
“I had a feeling I’d see you two again,” she chirruped.
“We try to stop by when we’re in town. We like it here,” replied Tam.
“I’m glad this is a good place for the both of you.”
“It is, Miss Maggie. We feel right at home.” The wrinkles around his eyes crunched together as he smiled a very cheesy smile. Tam was such a flirt. He couldn’t help it; he was handsome. He had a natural brown glow to his skin and a ruff and tough face, yet strong and sweet. But his eyes, his eyes are what made me take a second look at him. They are so large, so brown, so smooth and inviting, it was hard to not get pulled into them. Most people do a double take when they first meet him. His eyes remind me of a deer’s, but without the fear.
Maggie smiled at him again as she walked to the next table. Tam was still grinning so I threw him a dirty look. He immediately stopped and sipped his coffee. I smiled to myself behind my cup. He makes me laugh even when he is not trying. My eye fell on the envelope that contained the photos of Will. My smile fell and my stomach started to hurt. I didn’t want to look at those right now. I just wanted to plunge into my coffee, swim around in the warmth and maybe drown for a while. I could see Tam, I mean Tom, across the street, finishing his cigarette before heading over to the diner. The smoke that exhaled from his nose and mouth looked like smoke signals. I was mesmerized by the swirling smoke, unfurling in the air, dancing its way around the oxygen and hydrogen molecules, writing itself in cursive so that I could read it: truth, it said. “The truth is in the bones,” I said absent minded.
“Boss?” I jumped. I hadn’t realized how far gone I was. “You ok?”
“Yes, sorry. Just staring.”
“What did you say?”
“Nothing,” I mumbled.
“Do you want some more coffee?” He asked me.
I looked over to see Maggie again standing by our table with new hot coffee. I set my cup down and said yes.
“How long was she standing there?” I asked Tam after Maggie left again.
“About a minute or so.”
“But she was just here.”
“About ten minutes ago. You’ve been kind of quiet, distant. Where were you?”
I laughed. “That’s what Kat said...”
“Kat?” His forehead winkled. I didn’t answer him.
“Will you excuse me for a moment?”
“Sure.”
I got up and walked to the back of the restaurant. I locked myself in the one toilet women’s room. I was taken back by the smell in there. Did something die in here? I flipped the fan on and looked for the air freshener that was usually kept on the shelf above the toilet. I washed my hands and glanced at my face in the mirror. I didn’t mean to, but I think it’s encoded in female DNA; we can’t pass a mirror without checking ourselves out, making sure we look good. I didn’t look too good. My hair was a mess in a clump of a ponytail and dark circles under my eyes. I had to take a double take. I noticed a faint redness to my cheeks, but when I looked closer I could see faint words shadowing the lines on my face. I reached up to touch my face with my wet hands, but the words would not wipe off. Instead, they became darker and I could read them in the dim light of the bathroom. They were everywhere; small words, large words: life, love, hate, scar, chance, run. But the word my eyes were most fascinated with was the word sunk in around my lips. It read: secrets.
I could hear someone walking outside of the bathroom door and I started to panic. I couldn’t go back out there with the words stuck to my face. I tried again to wash them off but the door flung open, hitting my right arm rather hard, knocking me off balance just so much that I almost fell into the toilet.
“Oh, sorry,” said a girl of maybe thirteen. “I thought the door was just stuck. Are you all right?” She took my throbbing arm and helped me regain my balance. I clenched my teeth to bear the pain. My left hand immediately flew up to my face.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
She didn’t say anything more. We danced with each other for a moment, not sure who was the one that was going to go to the left as the other went right. I finally took the right and moved fast to get around her. I caught a glance of my reflection in the mirror.. nothing.. no words. My face was clear. I sighed in relief, and inhaled with wonder. Tom was sitting in my seat when I got back to the table. Instead of having him move, I sat down next to Tam and pulled my empty cup close to me.
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted more,” said Tam. I nodded in comprehension.
“Molly, I was just telling Tam about the Jane Doe the boys found- Sara Olny. Her neck was broken, strangled, as well as a blunt trauma to the back of her head, most likely when she hit the pavement. But we’re working on it. John is over there now with her.”
Maggie stopped at our table with more coffee. “Hi Tom. How’s life today?”
“Loving every minute of it, Maggie.”
“Coffee?”
“Hate to say no, so I’ll say yes!”
Maggie laughs. What the hell was with all of this flirting? I was feeling a bit left out.
As Maggie poured more coffee into our ever empty cups, I noticed that she had a rather large scar in the inside of her left wrist. The scar wasn’t a straight line that might have suggested a suicide attempt, but instead it had a pattern to it, jagged with rounded corners. It didn’t look like a tattoo, but it had to have been a deliberate placement. There’s no way this design could have been an accident.
“A chance of snow today...” I heard a voice from somewhere. I looked up and realized that Maggie was talking to me. Tom and Tam were looking at me, as well, but tried not to be obvious about it.
“Huh?” I said dumbly. I wondered what was in the coffee. I was feeling a little, well...drunk. My ears even buzzed, like I had just been to very loud rock concert and spent most of the time right next to the speakers. I kept hearing words that somehow felt too familiar, like a song I couldn’t get out of my head. Plus, my arm was still throbbing.
“I said that I was hoping to get in a short run today after my shift ended, but they were just saying on the news that there is a chance of snow,” she kindly repeated. “More coffee?”
“Oh, no thanks. I think I’ve had enough caffeine.”
“Can I get you anything else?”
“Yes, please. Can I have the California Cheeseburger with fries and extra sauce on the side, please, and a glass of water. Thanks.” I was satisfied with my order. It was past noon and I hadn’t eaten anything since early this morning. I was hungry. The boys looked at me again, but I didn’t care. To my surprise, they took my lead. Tom ordered grilled cheese and tomato soup whereas Tam, sitting next to me, ordered the same thing I did. I smiled at him and he smiled back at me. My cheeks hurt from all of this polite smiling. Under the table I felt his hand nudge my leg. A certain kind of warmth grew from the spot where he touched me and spread through out the rest of my body. My heartbeat thumped against my ribs and I felt so good at that moment I wished that I could stay there for a little longer rather than going into the short few minutes it would take to pass through on our way to the next chunk of time when we would no longer be in the restaurant, but rather back in the morgue. I shut the thought of that time out of my mind and concentrated on this moment. The future would come soon enough. It always does.
But for the moment, for one glorious moment, I was away from all that was bothering me. The burger was excellent, and the fries were perfect. Tam was by my side. I was in heaven. Then that other thing came up again...
“Did you look at the photos?” asked Tom.
“Photos?” I asked as I slowly snapped out of it.
“The photos of Will.”
I felt a bit nauseous. My mood was once again darkened. Tam stood in for me.
“Yes, I looked at them. They really didn’t reveal anything different than what we actually saw on Will. What exactly should we be looking for? I just don’t get it.”
“John was quite taken back by it when he first examined Will. The first thing he said was to ‘Get Molly down here, She’d know.’ So we called you right away.” Tom swirled the photos around so that he could see them better.
I heard him, I just didn’t respond right away. Or at least, didn’t want to answer him right away. He stared at me. It was like he was trying to mentally extract the words out of my vocal cords where they were stuck and refused to come out. He started to win.
I sighed loudly. “The marks...” I shook my head. I inhaled and let it go... “John believes that the wounds were self inflicted.” My mind suddenly clicked. I actually heard it click. “They aren’t wounds; they are words,” I heard myself say.
“Elaborate?” asked Tom.
I paused.
“Molly?” whispered Tam.
“Not sure about that yet,” I said loudly, startling myself with my overcompensation.
He spread the photos further out on the table. “Please let me know when you might have an idea about them. ‘Cause I don’t see it.”
“You’ll be the first to know.” I took a few bites of my French fries that were at this point cold and limp. I dipped them into the left over salt and chewed them slowly, savoring the delicious disgustingness of them. “Can I take these along?”
“Please do.”
Several minutes passed without anyone speaking.
“Molly?” asked Tom.
“Yes?”
“You look pensive.”
I laughed. “I’m always pensive.”
“Yes, she is.” Tam agreed.
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