We returned to the foyer to find Barry and Mom had returned, the intern looking perkier, though he was still a bit wobbly. Still, he nodded to Jill as we entered, Eddie’s anger flaring at the sight of Frieda who glared back.
“I’m going to take a look at the body,” he said, turning toward the study. “In there?”
I left Jill to her job and led Barry inside, keeping my distance as he knelt next to the corpse and started his work. I’d been up close and personal with enough dead people in the last few years that the novelty had worn thin.
“Um, yeah.” He glanced over his shoulder at me, his eyes careful. “I can take it from here.”
Whatever. Kid had a lot to learn. “I’m a deputy,” I said, flashing the badge Jill gave me, feeling weirdly excited to do so like I’d been wanting to forever and only now had the chance. Grow up, Fee. “Just tell me.”
He still hesitated, frowning. “I need to see paperwork on that.”
He what? “Are you freaking kidding me here?” And I thought I kind of liked him. But Barry was rapidly losing any kind of positive points he’d built up in the few short weeks I’d known him. At this rate? He’d be on the list with Geoffrey and Rosebert in short order.
“I’ve heard about you,” he said, cleared his throat, swallowed. “That you’re a bully when it comes to crime scenes. And I was told not to let you push me around.”
He sounded nervous. That just pissed me off more.
“Who told you that?” Not Dr. Aberstock. And certainly not Crew. Didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess, but I wanted to hear it from the donkey’s mouth.
“My boss,” he said. “Mr. Jenkins.” Grunt. So Geoffrey hired him personally? Maybe Barry needed to be informed the doc was his actual employer, not that puffed-up shark of a Patterson in-law. “And the next sheriff of Reading.”
Robert. Snarl. I was so over my cousin’s version of the truth. “Listen up,” I snapped, fully aware I was likely just confirming what they said about me but not really giving a crap at the moment, “you haven’t seen bullying, Barry. If you want to actually not be a jerk and toe the company line you’ll do what your real boss willingly does every time I have to endure something like this. You’ll tell me what you know and stop acting like you have any idea who I am or how little I care about what you think of me.” So there.
Barry just stared up at me, eyes huge, swallowing heavily before he finally shook his head. But I didn’t give him a chance to protest, instead clicking on the walkie I still carried and growling into the receiver.
“Crew or Dr. Aberstock, this is Deputy Fleming, over.”
That caught Barry’s attention, all right, the creeping blush crawling up his neck from the collar of his shirt making him look like he might be about to erupt. But nope, he was just in a bit of a battle with his conscience, apparently, because he waved me off even as the walkie crackled.
“Go ahead, Fee.” Dr. Aberstock’s friendly tone made me grin, my gaze never leaving Barry’s.
“I need your little helper here to give me information,” I said. “Mind telling him to do so? Over.”
Barry turned away, rummaging around the body like he had no idea what he was doing. Lovely.
Dr. Aberstock’s tone shifted instantly. “We’ve had this conversation, Mr. Clements.” They did, did they? Barry flinched visibly enough, still not looking at me. Dude was going to have to do something about his resilience if he was going to survive for long in Reading. Though, he still had school to finish, so it wasn’t like he was sticking around, was he? Then again, if he was going to side with Geoffrey and Robert he could take a flying leap off the mountain right now as far as I was concerned.
So weird. I hadn’t gotten this vibe from him the few times we’d met. I’d even liked him, found him friendly and kind. So what changed? Maybe it was just an act? Or Geoffrey and Robert got to him. Whatever the case, Barry seemed uncomfortable but when he turned back to me, grim and flushed, he didn’t argue anymore.
“Sorry,” he muttered to me. “I have a job to do and I’d like to keep it past this murder so I actually get credit for my internship.”
Maybe they were threatening him? So be it. “So do I,” I said, “thanks to the badge I was handed. Get to it, please. We’ve wasted enough time as it is.”
Okay, that was mean, and really beneath me, but the next person who prodded the bear was getting both barrels. Growl.
“Dr. Aberstock.” Barry raised his voice, eyes on mine, shrugging. I clicked the receiver so the doc would hear. “Dr. Aberstock,” Barry repeated, “I’d like to share my observations. Over.”
I released the button, scowling. But Barry hastily went on before I could vent.
“Go ahead, Barry. Over.” The doc sounded tired, but not physically so. More worn down. What was going on across the river?
“If you happen to overhear what I’m reporting…” Barry paused, looked hopeful while I exhaled in frustration then cut him some slack.
“Fine, whatever.” I eye rolled so he’d know I wasn’t buying anything but was willing to overlook the obvious for the time being as he nodded to me and I clicked again.
He finally focused on Grayson’s body, getting down to business with an efficiency that relieved me somewhat despite his previous lack of skill. Nerves, I guess. Meanwhile, my brain kept prodding me with the same question I’d pondered in the past. Why was Geoffrey Jenkins playing both sides? Why support me then undercut me at every opportunity? And was I the only one receiving such special attention?
“Liver temp gives time of death at approximately 2AM.” Barry removed the long, narrow probe from inside Grayson’s flabby gut, the idea of such an implement being jabbed into me, dead or alive, making me shiver. “What time did you find him, Miss Fleming?”
I almost corrected him with deputy but let it ride. “About 2:10AM.” Wasn’t it? Yes, I remembered the glowing green numbers on the alarm clock in my room.
“Which means you could be a suspect, am I correct?” He had the guts to ask that, did he?
I sighed, Dr. Aberstock sighed on the other end of the walkie while Crew’s voice clearly said, “Seriously?”
“Just get on with it, Barry. Over.” Dr. Aberstock’s irritation wasn’t typical of him. Again, what was happening across the river to wind everyone up? And why hadn’t the doc come himself? He never seemed to me the type to say no to any adventure. In fact, he’d cheerfully accepted all kinds of cases over the years, right? So was Barry here thanks to Geoffrey?
I hated being out of touch and unable to have a private conversation about the matter.
Barry rose, circled the body, grasping Grayson’s head in his hands. The unusual angle of the neck must have told him what I guessed already. “Looks like cause of death, at least at first inspection, might be from a severed spinal cord caused by a broken neck.”
“From a fall? Over.” Dr. Aberstock didn’t wait for Barry’s “Over,” when I released the button by accident.
“No sign of any other physical damage that might happen with a fall,” Barry said, sounding confident enough I took him at his word. “More likely an expertly applied technique, a single twist.” He glanced at me until I shook the walkie as a reminder. “Over.”
“Military?” That was Crew. “Over.”
“Possibly.” Barry released Grayson’s head with almost delicate reverence, his care of the body returning some of my good will. Sure the guy was a total jerk who hit on my mother, but everyone deserved some kind of respect when they were dead. Right? “Definitely someone who knew what they were doing. This isn’t the sort of skill one masters by accident but by repeated practice.” He shrugged. “It’s harder than you think to actually snap someone’s neck by hand. The killer would have to be strong and know exactly where to apply pressure.”
“Which takes me off the list,” I said with pointed annoyance. “Over.”
“I’ll focus my investigation on those with military training,” Crew said, sounding worried. But my mind was already leaping past the armed forces and into a different skillset all together, the kind that came from a specific branch of medical education.
Namely, chiropractic. Who else but a chiropractor would know exactly how to break someone’s neck? Or, the son of one?
With my heart pounding and hope like I’d never known burning in my veins, I rushed past Barry and into the foyer. Jill looked up, startled, as I marched to Ryan with a vicious grin I couldn’t control and poked him firmly—might I say triumphantly?—in that lean chest of his.
“Ryan Richards,” I said. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Grayson Gallinger.”
***