Becca saw Silas seated on the edge of Linda’s desk as she walked into the bullpen. He was slinging a yo-yo, that had been tucked away in the station’s lost and found box for as long as she could remember, and chatting away with the older office manager. Stacks of unread papers—presumably Andrea Alvarez’s medical records during the time of her psychotic break—sat next to him, unread.
Before making her way over there, Becca glanced around the office for Sergeant Jeremy Tanner. She spotted him, a moment later, over at the coffee maker, pouring himself a cup.
“Anything interesting at the autopsy?” Becca asked him as she approached.
The old veteran tugged on his uniform sleeve before taking a sip from his mug, winced from the heat, and shook his head. “Too early to tell,” he said. “You were right. The stab wound was post-mortem. It didn’t kill her. Doc saw signs of a major heart attack though.”
“A heart attack? She’s only twenty-eight.”
“I know, right? And here’s the weird thing. There were no signs of previous heart problems. No plaque buildup. No clogged arteries. None of the typical signs you see in someone who dies of a heart attack.”
Becca poured herself a cup of coffee too. “What’s Dr. Lipkovic thinking?”
“Glad you asked,” he said, scarfing down one of the donuts Silas brought in earlier that day. “He wants to meet with you tomorrow. Says he wants to mull the case over with you a bit. Wants you to look a little deeper into a few things, but he wouldn’t explain it to me. He asked me to send over the prescription bottles found at her house, so I took care of that.”
“Thanks, Jeremy.”
There was a burst of laughter from over at Linda’s desk. They both turned to see Silas, who was still playing with the yo-yo—walking the dog, if Becca wasn’t mistaken—and in the middle of telling what must have been a boisterous story from the way the handful of personnel were reacting.
“So, how was working with Mr. Death?” Jeremy was smirking as he said it.
“Knock it off. He’s not Death. He was just joking about that,” she lied. “And he’s really not that bad. Smart, actually, if a bit eccentric.”
“Well, I did some more diggin’ on him when I got back from the medical examiner,” Jeremy said. “Chief…” His eyes narrowed as he looked over at Silas. “There’s no record of the man. Except for the crazy number of false-positive hits we got on his fingerprints, there’s no record of a Silas Mot ever existing. Even Googled his name. Only ‘Mot’ that popped up was the name of some punk goth band and the Canaanite god of death.” He shivered. “Kind of creepy, eh? Especially since he was just ‘joking’ and all.”
“He’s probably aware his last name is the same as the mythological god or something. He probably plays it up every chance he gets.” Becca wasn’t sure she was comfortable with how well she was beginning to lie to her most loyal officer. But if Silas’ story was true, she had no choice. “Besides, Governor Tyler vouched for him. Part of some statewide taskforce or something. Could be an alias he uses for the job.”
“Mighty bleak alias, if you ask me. All I’m sayin’ is to watch yer back. I don’t think I rightly trust that guy much.”
“Noted and appreciated, Jeremy.” She winked at the officer, then looked down at her watch. “Okay. It’s getting late. Think I’ll be heading out. You should go home and get some sleep too. We’ve had a long day.”
“10-4, Chief. Have a good one.”
Becca made her way over to Linda’s desk. “Ah, Chief Cole,” Silas said, wrapping the yo-yo up and tucking it into his pocket before patting the medical records sitting next to him. “Haven’t had a chance to review this stuff yet. We were all just enjoying a bit of a chat.”
“I can see that.” The others milling around the desk understood the subtle hint and disbanded to their respective workstations. “The records can wait though, Mr. Mot. I’m exhausted. Only thing I want to do right now is go home and hit the sack.”
He offered a sympathetic smile and a nod. “Of course, Chief. And please, call me Silas.”
“Thank you, Silas.”
There was a pause.
“And may I call you Becca?”
She scrunched her nose. “Hmmmm. I’d rather you didn’t.”
Silas’s jaw dropped.
“Don’t take it personal. It’s just that I worked really hard to get where I am. To get past the ‘darlings’, ‘sweeties’, and ‘pretty ladies’ men around here still insist on using. I try to keep it professional with all my colleagues. I hope you understand.”
Of course, she didn’t want to tell him she wasn’t sure how she felt about being on a first-name basis with the Grim Reaper. To her, it seemed a little on par with being pen pals with Hitler or something.
“Sure.” His face reddened, but he tried to hide his obvious disappointment. “I understand completely.” He clapped his hands together and gave them a good rub. “So, we’ll get a fresh start tomorrow then?”
“Absolutely. Eight o’clock sharp.”
He pushed the medical records to Linda, who immediately filed them away in her desk drawer, and offered a little wave before turning toward the door and walking out.
“Oooh, that was kind of cold, Chief,” Linda said, logging off from her computer.
“I know.” She felt a lump form in her throat. A symptom she always associated with guilt. “I’ll make it up to him though. Somehow.”
Linda stood from her desk and gathered her things. “Better do it fast. He’s good looking. Crazy, but hot. He might just be a keeper.”
“You know I’m seeing Brad.” Becca wasn’t about to tell her receptionist the zillion reasons why Silas Mot was definitely not a keeper.
“Oh yeah. Well done.” She offered a sarcastic clap. “You nabbed the absolute dullest doctor in all the Southeast.” Linda returned her gaze out the plate-glass window and watched Silas saunter through the parking lot outside. “One thing about that Mot…I bet he’s never dull.”
Linda, you have no idea. “Go home, Linda. And thanks for your hard work today.”
“Ta-ta!” the receptionist said with a wave as she picked up her purse and keys, and glided from her cubicle to make a bee-line toward the door. “Think about what I said.” She let out a devious little laugh and walked out of the building.
Yeah. Right. I’ve had some pretty bad judgment when it came to guys in my life, but at least I’m smart enough to give Death a wide berth. She glanced down at her watch again. It was now almost five o’clock. Brad Harris’s shift at the Summer Haven Urgent Care Center would be over soon and they’d made plans for dinner. He wouldn’t like it, but she was going to have to cancel. Her bed was calling. She only hoped once she got there she could settle her mind enough to fall asleep.
This is the craziest day I’ve ever had in my life, she thought as she stalked out of the building and headed to her car. Here’s hoping for a better tomorrow.