Page 13 of Manner of Death
Is that how he described it?
“Am I?” Sawyer asked in a monotone.
Her bubbliness popped. “I assume so, if you were cornering him in his workplace like that.”
“I didn’t corner him.” There had been five feet between him and Dr. Ramin, and the exit was on the doctor’s side.
“Look.” She leaned in close. “Take this as a bit of friendly advice—don’t go there. Bash already has trouble finding nice guys, and the last thing he needs is to end up with an ex at work. You guys give him enough trouble as it is.”
Sawyer smiled at her. It was an different kind of smile than the one he’d given Dr. Ramin. This was a cold, distant sort of smile; a smile bearing more resemblance to the sharp glint of a knife than the muted shine of teeth. He had just been rejected by the man himself—he didn’t need the message to be repeated by his techs. “Got it.” He slid around her, careful not to touch, and headed for the lobby.
“No need to be a bitch about it,” he heard her mutter—possibly to herself, but potentially at him. Whatever. He’d been called worse things by better people.
“Finally,” Kurt groused when he saw Sawyer. He threw a nearly full cup of coffee into the closest trash can. “Let’s get out of here before I do something regrettable, like drinking any more of this slop.”
“Let’s.” Sawyer followed his partner out into the midday sunshine and loosened his tie. His neck felt itchy, his throat a little tight.
That’s the joy of rejection for you.
“You okay?” Kurt asked in an uncommon show of concern as he started the car.
“Fine,” Sawyer replied. “Just a little tired.”
“Yeah, you and me both.” That got his partner to launch into a familiar catalogue of woes that would give Sawyer approximately seven and a half minutes of peace on the ride back to the station. He wouldn’t have to do more than “mm” or “huh” for at least that long, which meant he could think about how he might be able to change Dr. Ramin’s mind about dating cops.
What was wrong with dating a cop? Sure, for your average person, dating someone who worked a stressful job with chaotic hours might be a negative, but Sawyer was pretty sure Dr. Ramin’s hours were no better. Couple that with the challenges of finding someone to talk to when your work was handling dead bodies, and a cop seemed like the ideal partner.
They still had two minutes to go on Kurt’s fuck-my-life diatribe when dispatch contacted their car. Kurt groaned, but replied, “Go ahead.”
“We’ve got a bystander report of a drowning on Parson’s Creek Road.”
Sawyer froze for a moment. A drowning where?
His partner seemed to think that was as weird as he did. “Dispatch, repeat that please.”
“A bystander came across a body on Parson’s Creek Road that they believe shows signs of being drowned. You’re the closest car to check it out.”
“How the hell could someone drown all the way up there?” Kurt barked into the radio. Parson’s Creek Road, despite the name, was on top of a hill, and dry as a bone. “Did he go swimming in a damn mud puddle?”
“I don’t know,” the dispatcher said with exaggerated patience. “That’s why you need to check it out. You’ll probably be the first police on scene.”
Oof, the clock was ticking to get to the body before it became seriously contaminated, then. Sawyer waited for Kurt to sign off, then said, “Think you can make it in ten minutes?”
Kurt scoffed. “Are you kiddin’ me? This time of day with the sirens on?” He flipped a switch on their refurbished patrol car and it started to blare. “I can make it in five. Hold on, kid.”
Chapter 5
“What is up with that cop?” Tami demanded as she stomped into the morgue. “Does he not know how to take no for an answer or what?”
Bashir looked at her over the file he’d been reading. “Sorry, what?”
She huffed with even more annoyance than she usually did, which honestly spoke volumes. “He just seems so…” She flailed a hand in the direction Detective Villeray had gone. “Persistent.”
“He does?” Bashir lowered the file and pulled off his reading glasses, studying the flustered technician. “What makes you say that?”
She peered at him. “You don’t see it? Ugh, he had desperation radiating off him.”
Bashir blinked. “I, um… No, I hadn’t noticed?” He shrugged. “He asked me if I wanted to go to dinner, and when I said no, he left. I wouldn’t call that particularly persistent.”