“Oh for God’s sake,” his wife had said.
“Get up and go for a walk.”
“No. You can’t make me. I don’t have to be in this life if I don’t want to be.”
This had prompted her to remove all firearms from their usual spots.
Hammer had collected many over the years and had strategically tucked them in various places around the house. Still at large when West had called was Hammer’s old faithful Smith & Wesson stainless steel five-shot. 38 special with Pachmeyer grips. Hammer was fairly certain it was supposed to be in the drawer of her vanity in her bathroom. She was almost positive this was where it had been last time she had rounded up weapons and locked them in the safe before the grand babies came to town.
Hammer had many concerns. She was depressed and coping the best she could as anxieties from her press conference, which had involved national media, continued to pluck at her. Politics were what she hated most. They, honestly, were the bane of her existence. A hundred and five percent clearance rate.
She wished Cahoon could be here in this Godawful place. This was what he needed to see. The Cahoons of the world lose it, wouldn’t be able to handle it, would pale and flee. This gory dead businessman was not about appearances or economic development or the tourist industry.
This overgrown, creepy thicket flickering with fireflies near railroad tracks, this Thrifty rental car, open and dinging, was about reality.
Hammer spoke to no one as she approached tragedy, and blue and red lights lit up her hard, distressed face. She joined West and Brazil near the Maxima as Dr. Odom arranged another black pouch around another body. The medical examiner’s gloved hands were bloody, and sweat dripped in his eyes as his heart beat slow and with force. He had dealt with the savagery of sexual homicide most of his life, but nothing like this. Dr. Odom was a compassionate man, but he was tough.
He had learned long ago to keep himself in check and not relate too closely. It was sad but true that it was easier for him to be clinical when the victims were women or obvious gays not getting along or, in some cases, foreigners. It had been comfortable for him to categorize.
Dr. Odom was feeling increasingly shaky about his homosexual serial-killing theory. This victim happened to be fifty-four-year-old state senator Ken Butler from Raleigh. The last thing Dr. Odom intended to imply, in any form or fashion, was that the much-beloved black leader was something less than mainstream. Dr. Odom also knew, from his vast experience, that homosexual politicians didn’t cruise downtown streets looking for boys. They went to public parks and men’s rooms, where they could always swear they were neither exposing them selves nor offering an invitation. They were urinating.
Dr. Odom zipped the pouch over blood and naked flesh, covering the blaze-orange hourglass. He looked up at Hammer, and shook his head as he stood. His back was killing him. Brazil was staring into the Maxima, hands in his pockets to make sure he didn’t inadvertently touch anything and leave his prints. That would be the end of his career. He might even become a suspect. After all, didn’t he coincidentally happen to be in the area every time one of these bodies turned up? He nervously glanced around him, wondering if this might remotely occur to anyone. Dr. Odom was busy giving Hammer and West his opinions.
“This is a fucking nightmare,” the medical examiner was saying.
“Jesus Christ.”
He ripped off his gloves, and wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.
He cast about, looking for a receptacle for biological hazards.
Catching the eye of Denny Raines, he gave the paramedic a nod, and the big, handsome guy came through with his stretcher and crew. Raines winked at West, drinking in the sexy sight of her in uniform. She was pretty unbelievable, and Hammer was hot, too. Brazil’s eyes fixed on Raines. Brazil got a strange feeling as he watched the over built ambulance attendant eyeing West and Hammer. Brazil wasn’t sure what the problem was, but he was suddenly anxious and a little sick to his stomach. He wanted to get in Raines’s face, beg him to start something so Brazil could finish it, or at least order Raines to leave the scene.