PATRICIA CORNWELL. Unnatural Exposure

‘Dear God,’ I muttered. ‘Please help.’

5

THE RAIN WAS still heavy as I drove home, and traffic was terrible because an accident had closed lanes in both directions on I-64. There were fire trucks and ambulances, rescuers prying open doors and hurrying with stretchers and boards. Broken glass glistened on wet pavement, drivers slowing to stare at injured people. One car had flipped multiple times before catching fire. I saw blood on the shattered windshield of another and that the steering wheel was bent. I knew what that meant, and said a prayer for whoever the people were. I hoped I would not see them in my morgue.

In Carytown, I pulled off at P. T. Hasting’s. Festooned with fish nets and floats, it sold the best seafood in the city. When I walked in, the air was spicy and pungent with fish and Old Bay, and filets looked thick and fresh on ice inside displays. Lobsters with bound claws crawled in their tank of water, and were in no danger from me. I was incapable of boiling anything alive and wouldn’t touch meat if the cattle and pigs were first brought to my table. I couldn’t even catch fish without throwing them back.

I was trying to decide what I wanted when Bev emerged from the back.

‘What’s good today?’ I asked her.

‘Well, look who’s here,’ she exclaimed warmly, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘You’re about the only person to brave the rain. So you sure got plenty to choose from.’

‘I don’t have much time, and need something easy and light,’ I said.

A shadow passed over her face as she opened a jar of horseradish. ‘I’m afraid I can imagine what you’ve been doing,’ she said. ‘Been hearing it on the news.’ She shook her head. ‘You must be plumb worn out. I don’t know how you sleep. Let me tell you what to do for yourself tonight.’

She walked over to a case of chilled blue crabs. Without asking, she selected a pound of meat in a carton.

‘Fresh from Tangier Island. Hand-picked it myself, and you tell me if you find even a trace of cartilage or shell. You’re not eating alone, are you?’ she said.

‘No.’

‘That’s good to hear.’

She winked at me. I had brought Wesley in here before.

She picked out six jumbo shrimp, peeled and deveined, and wrapped them. Then she set a jar of her homemade cocktail sauce on the counter by the cash register.

‘I got a little carried away with the horseradish,’ she said, ‘so it will make your eyes water, but it’s good.’ She began ringing up my purchases. ‘You sauté the shrimp so quick their butts barely hit the pan, got it? Chill ’em, and have that as an appetizer. By the way, those and the sauce are on the house.’

‘You don’t need to . . .’

She waved me off. ‘As for the crab, honey, listen up. One egg slightly beaten, one-half teaspoon dry mustard, a dash or two of Worcestershire sauce, four unsalted soda crackers, crushed. Chop up an onion, a Vidalia if you’re still hoarding any from summer. One green pepper, chop that. A teaspoon or two of parsley, salt and pepper to taste.’

‘Sounds fabulous,’ I gratefully said. ‘Bev, what would I do without you?’

‘Now you gently mix all that together and shape it into patties.’ She made the motion with her hands. ‘Sauté in oil over medium heat until lightly browned. Maybe fix him a salad or get some of my slaw,’ she said. ‘And that’s as much as I would fuss over any man.’

It was as much as I did. I got started as soon as I got home, and shrimp were chilling by the time I turned on music and climbed into a bath. I poured in aromatherapy salts that were supposed to reduce stress, and shut my eyes as steam carried soothing scents into my sinuses and pores. I thought about Wingo, and my heart ached and seemed to lose its rhythm like a bird in distress. For a while, I cried. He had started out with me in this city, then left to go back to school. Now he was back and dying. I could not bear it.

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