Page 16 of Identity Unknown
“Didn’t want to be anywhere near a bunch of pissed-off hornets. Not to mention poison. Maybe I need to file a complaint with the Better Business Bureau or something, get Shady Acres in a shitload of trouble.”
“It will likely make things worse,” I reply as we near the semi tractor-trailer hooked up to its generator, the REMOTE that I presumed we’d use in Sal Giordano’s case.
“We can’t let Eddie fucking Munster get away with it, Doc.”
“Best not to make a thing of it. Now we’re onto him if we weren’t before. He won’t try that again if he has a brain in his head.”
“Well, he doesn’t. And obviously, he’s doing what the Brileys instructed. So, tell me, what’s the point of snatching the body after you’ve already done the autopsy?” Marino digs in a pocket for his truck’s keyless remote. “What did they think they were going to accomplish? It’s a little late to destroy the evidence.”
“I don’t know the motive but I’m not finished. I haven’t verified the most important finding if I’m right about the fingertip bruises. They’d show that she was violently grabbed by the shoulders and neck not long before she was shot. And that would be very bad for the parents.”
“You thinking they somehow know about the bruises?”
“Hopefully they don’t,” I reply as I think about who does.
I told Fruge. And Shannon could know if she’s looked at the paperwork I left on my conference table. Fabian wasn’t with me while I examined the body.
“All to say, it’s actually not too late to destroy evidence,” I add as Marino points the remote at his truck, and the lights flash. “Did you remember to bring your motion sickness medicine?”
“Already took it and have more in my pocket.” He stares up at the wall of dark clouds in the distance. “I hope Lucy knows what’s she’s doing, because everything I’m hearing sounds like a nightmare. I sure as hell hope we don’t get stranded in the mountains or worse.”
We place our gear inside the truck’s covered bed, and momentarily he’s starting the powerful engine, maneuvering out of the crowded parking lot. At the security gate, we wait for other cars to drive through. When it’s our turn, Marino begins easing forward, when suddenly the black-and-white-striped arm begins chopping up and down like a scene fromThe Exorcist.
“SHIT!” He shoves the gearshift into park, the front bumper just inches from the guillotining gate. “This is what I’m talking about! Everything’s haywire around here!”
Climbing out, he finds the power cutoff switch in a small gray box and disables the arm. It’s barricading the exit lane, and two cars are behind us, employees leaving. I feel curious eyes when Marino orders me out of the truck as if I’m about to be arrested. He motions like a traffic cop, indicating for me to take the driver’s seat.
Lifting the security arm, he holds it above his head as I drive through. Then I’m parking out of the way of traffic. I return to the passenger’s seat as he switches the power back on, giving me an incredulous shrug while the waiting cars drive out. The gate operates as if nothing was ever wrong.
“Now it’s fine?” He climbs into his truck, pulling the door shut. “How does that make sense?”
“Maybe when you flipped the switch off and back on something got reset?” I suggest.
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“Possibly a power surge or glitchy sensor?”
“Dammit, Doc. I hope we’ve not been hacked again.”
“Don’t even say it,” I reply as we drive away from our four-story building in the hinterlands of the Northern Virginia district government center.
The fenced-in OCME complex is off to itself at the back of the state government office park. On three sides of my building are kudzu-choked wetlands, and an electrical substation that’s been shot at several times. We have a smokestack on the roof for the anatomical division’s crematorium, and I don’t blame people for wanting to be as far from us as possible.
Several acres away are the Departments of Health, Public Safety and Emergency Medical Services and the Bureau of Vital Records. Those buildings are modern and attractive by comparison, with tinted glass and tidy flower beds, fountains and reflecting pools. Some have cafeterias, rooftop terraces and underground parking. There are benches beneath shade trees, the lobbies unlocked, visitors welcome.
CHAPTER 7
Minutes later we’re driving past the serpentine stone wall enclosing the Shady Acres compound. Across from the soaring wrought iron entrance one of their billboards advertises,Whatever floats your boat, we wait with open arms. It shows customers in swan boats on the cemetery’s fake lake. In other ads, the bereft sprinkle ashes from a hot air balloon.
“I texted Dorothy that we’re not available for dinner,” I tell Marino, the Safeway grocery store ahead reminding me of errands I need to run. “I explained why without going into detail. I’ve not had a chance to catch up with her, but she seems excited about her award and your weekend in Atlantic City.”
“Yeah, she had quite the time.” He stares straight ahead as he drives, chewing gum because he wants to smoke.
“Have you talked to her recently?” I want to know why he didn’t inform her that we’re on our way out of town.
“Not since I saw her last. Although I wouldn’t call what we were doingtalkingby that point, as bitchy as she was.”
“Everything all right?”