‘Don’t know with certainty, but this looks like hemorrhage, versus the drying you find with skin splitting.’
‘Skin splitting from fire, you mean.’
‘Yes. Flesh cooks and expands, splitting the skin.’
‘Same thing that happens when you cook chicken in the oven.’
‘You got it,’ I said.
Damage to skin, muscle, and bone is easily mistaken for injuries caused by violence if one is not familiar with the artifacts of fire. Lucy squatted closer to me. She looked on.
‘Anything else turning up in there?’ I asked her. ‘No other bodies, I hope.’
‘Not so far,’ she said. ‘It will be dark soon, and all we can do is keep the scene secured until we can start again in the morning.’
I looked up as a man in a pinstripe suit climbed out of the funeral home van and worked on latex gloves. He loudly pulled a stretcher out from the back and metal clacked as he unfolded the legs.
‘You gonna get started tonight, Doc?’ he asked me, and I knew I’d seen him somewhere before.
‘Let’s get her to Richmond and I’ll start in the morning,’ I said.
‘Last time I saw you was the Moser shooting. That young girl they was fighting over’s still causing trouble round here.’
‘Oh yes.’ I vaguely remembered, for there were so many shootings and so many people who caused trouble. ‘Thank you for your help,’ I said to him.
We lifted the body by gripping the edges of the heavy vinyl pouch. We lowered the remains onto the stretcher and slid it into the back of the van. He slammed shut tailgate doors.
‘I hope it’s not Kenneth Sparkes in there,’ he said.
‘No identification yet,’ I told him.
He sighed and slid into the driver’s seat.
‘Well, let me tell you something,’ he said, cranking the engine. ‘I don’t care what anybody says. He was a good man.’
I watched him drive away and could sense Lucy’s eyes on me. She touched my arm.
‘You’re exhausted,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you spend the night and I’ll fly you back in the morning. If we find anything else, we’ll let you know right away. No point in your hanging around.’
I had very difficult work ahead and the sensible thing to do was to head back to Richmond now. But in truth, I did not feel like walking inside my empty home. Benton would be at Hilton Head by now, and Lucy was staying in Warrenton. It was too late to call upon any of my friends, and I was too spent for polite conversation. It was one of those times when I could think of nothing that might soothe me.
‘Teun’s moved us to a better place and I got an extra bed in my room, Aunt Kay,’ Lucy added with a smile as she pulled a car key out of her pocket.
‘So now I’m Aunt Kay again.’
‘As long as nobody’s around.’
‘I’ve got to get something to eat,’ I said.
3
WE BOUGHT DRIVE-THRU Whoppers and fries at a Burger King on Broadview, and it was dark out and very cool. Approaching headlights hurt my eyes, and no amount of Motrin would relieve the hot pain in my temples or the dread in my heart. Lucy had brought her own CDs and was playing one of them loudly as we glided through Warrenton in a rented black Ford LTD.
‘What’s this you’re listening to?’ I asked as a way of registering a complaint.
‘Jim Brickman,’ she said sweetly.
‘Not hardly,’ I said over flutes and drums. ‘Sounds Native American to me. And maybe we could turn it down a bit?’
Instead, she turned it up.
‘David Arkenstone. Spirit Wind. Got to open your mind, Aunt Kay. This one right now is called Destiny .’
Lucy drove like the wind, and my mind began to float.
‘You’re getting kooky on me,’ I said as I imagined wolves and campfires in the night.
‘His music’s all about connectivity and finding your way and positive force,’ she went on as the music got lively and added guitars. ‘Don’t you think that fits?’
I couldn’t help but laugh at her complicated explanation. Lucy had to know how everything worked and the reason why. The music, in truth, was soothing, and I felt a brightening and calm in frightening places in my mind.