CHAPTER TWO-3
1520 Words
“SERIOUSLY?”
Lizzie Zimmerman held up the empty coffeepot and shook it at the other detectives on the overnight shift with her. “Come on, guys. Did everyone else forget how to make coffee while I was gone?”
“What’s the matter, Zim?” David, her partner, boomed as he strolled in.
“This,” she hissed, rattling the empty carafe.
“Easy now, SWG,” he cautioned, hands up in a defensive posture. “You’ve had three cups already, you might want to back it down a bit, maybe do decaf the rest of the night.”
It was all he could do not to laugh at the way she snarled at the mere mention of any caffeine-free existence.
“Watch it, mister,” she grumbled as she poured water into the tank and flipped the switch to get another pot started, then headed to her desk to type up her report while she waited.
“Zim, what’s eating you?” David perched on the corner of her desk, as was his custom. When she was in happier moods, she found it hilarious, this huge intimidating-looking black man sitting delicately balanced on a tiny sliver of furniture.
Her shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, Tank,” she said, using his nickname. “I know I’m a raging b***h lately.” She rubbed her hands over her face.
“Hey, it’s okay,” the big man replied, delicately patting her on the shoulder. “You went through a lot of s**t, Zim, and I know it cut you deep. And then you get dragged down there for the trial, and that stirred everything back up. Right?”
“And how,” Lizzie admitted. “The dreams are back, Tank. I haven’t slept worth a damn in...God, I don’t know how long exactly. Three, four weeks, at least.”
“Aw man, Zim, I’m sorry. You know if I could fix it for you I would. You talk to anybody? Might help.”
“No,” she snapped, her jaw set. “I got this. It’ll be okay. I’ll get through it. I did it before, I can do it again.”
He raised his hands. “Just sayin, Zim. You can go through this by yourself if you want to. All I’m sayin is, you don’t have to.”
And he gave her shoulder a last friendly squeeze, then pointed out, “Coffee’s ready, best get over there before Martinez grabs it all.”
***
* * * *
JOE HAD TYPED UP A summary of the aggravated burglary case he’d caught and pressed ‘save’ just as his cell phone rang.
“Wallace,” he intoned.
“Joe, Dr. Broder,” the coroner announced. “You might want to come see me. I’ve got some updates for you.”
“On my way, Doc,” Joe replied.
Another call beeping in ended Joe’s conversation with Broder, and he switched over.
“Detective Wallace? It’s Gayle Huntings, Andi Taggert’s friend.”
“Hello, Miss Huntings, how can I help you?”
“Donna and I both feel like complete idiots,” she said. “We forgot to tell you something that could be really important. Can’t believe we didn’t remember until now.”
Joe’s ears perked up. “It’s all right. What is it?”
“Andi had been talking to this guy she met on a dating website,” Gayle said. “We don’t know a whole lot about him, just that his name is Gabriel, and she was pretty excited to finally meet him in person. She hadn’t had much luck previously.”
“Thanks, Miss Huntings,” he answered. “We will look into that, too. Anything else?”
“No sir, not right now. But if Donna or I think of anything else you’ll be the first to know,” she replied.
Joe made a note to reach out to the department’s lab supervisor, Trish, and pass on this new information. With a bit of luck, they’d be able to track down Gabriel and talk to him. Then he headed for his car.
***
* * * *
“HEY, DOC. WHAT’S THE word?” Joe asked as he entered the morgue.
“I have just one. Succinylcholine,” the coroner answered, as he washed and dried his hands.
“Succinyl-what?”
“Succinylcholine,” Broder repeated. “It’s Andi Taggert’s cause of death. Here’s the thing, Joe. It doesn’t show on a routine tox screen. Which is what makes it popular to use.”
“What is it, exactly, and what does it do?”
“Well, it’s used to prep someone for surgery,” Broder replied. “It’s a skeletal muscle relaxant that hospitals give via IV just before general anesthesia or tracheal intubation. But it can also be injected into muscle.”
“So, like, a paralytic? She would have what, suffocated?” Joe asked.
“You got it in one,” Broder answered. “That’s exactly what happened to her.”
“Would she have been awake?”
Broder shrugged. “Hard to know. It would have depended on how much she was given. If she did retain any awareness, it would have been more like a twilight or dream state. For her sake, I hope she wasn’t aware she was suffocating.”
“So, if it’s that dangerous, not just anybody would have access to it, right?” Joe asked. “Controlled substance, right?”
“Right again,” the coroner confirmed. “You definitely can’t just get it over the counter. And there was something else, too. She had some sort of residue on her skin. I’ve captured samples of it, and I’ve sent it to Trish for analysis.”
“Residue?”
“Yeah,” Broder said. “Like a soap, or a lotion, maybe?”
“Interesting. Thanks, Doc.”
***
* * * *
NATHAN’S PHONE RANG just as they were sitting down to dinner at Jandy’s.
“Thomas,” he answered.
“Hey,” Max said. “How did court go today?”
“It was long,” Nathan sighed. “I wound up on the stand for most of the day, actually, wrapping up a long week of the same.”
“That can’t have been fun,” Max murmured. “Listen, I hate to interrupt your evening, but I was just wondering when you might be returning to Manassas.”
“Tomorrow afternoon. What’s up?”
The old man paused a moment.
“Well,” he said finally, “I’ve not seen you or Bella or my godson in a while, and I’d like to come visit, if that’s all right.”
Nathan had tilted the phone so Bella could hear him too, and she replied, “Of course, Uncle Max, we’d love to see you! How about we call you when we land?”
“I’ll do one better than that, dear,” he chuckled. “Text me your flight information. I’d be delighted to pick you up at the airport, if you need a ride home.”
“Our car’s parked at the airport. But how about coming over for dinner?” she told him.
“That works too,” he replied.
“Love you, Uncle Max. We’ll see you tomorrow evening.”
“And I love you. See you then.”
Nathan hooked his phone back into the holster on his hip and commented, “Hey, please pass the rolls this way when you get a chance.”
***
* * * *
AS MAX HUNG UP THE phone, he sighed, then poured himself a drink before returning to his kitchen table. Slowly, he took a sip of his scotch, then reluctantly tore open the manila envelope containing the lab results his doctor’s office had sent over.
“Now,” he whispered to himself, “let’s see exactly what there might be for us to talk about.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then pulled the paper from the envelope, and wasn’t surprised at all by what he read there.
So now there’s only one question, really, he told himself as he picked up his glass again and began to swirl the liquid around as he thought. Should I tell them, or not?
Max Jones moved to his recliner in the living room, sipping his scotch and staring into the fire for a long while, pondering the answer.
***
* * * *
“WHAT’D YOU FIND?” JOE said as soon as he walked into her lab.
“Well, hello to you too, Detective,” Trish said, hand on her hip and eyebrow raised.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Not a great night so far. I apologize. Let’s start over. Hi Trish, how are you? What’d you find?”
She chuckled. “I forgive you, Joe,” she said with a smile, and motioned to him to come join her so he could see her screen.
“Joe Wallace, I present to you Andi Taggert’s mystery man. His full name is Gabriel Scott Allington. Twenty-nine years old, working part-time as a teaching assistant and a bartender while he’s finishing up his Doctoral program in Applied Physics at the University of Texas in Arlington,” Trish revealed. “Built his profile on the dating app five months ago, and from the history on Andi’s laptop it looks like they crossed paths four, maybe five weeks before she died.”
“Good place to start,” Joe said. “Where does he work?”
“Shady Jay’s, in Pantego,” she answered, and handed Joe a slip of paper. “Got phone numbers and addresses for you, too – work and home.”
“Thanks, Trish, you’re the best. Good night,” Joe said as he walked back out to the hall.
“Hey!” she shouted. “I wasn’t done.”
He turned around and walked to her side again. “Sorry, Trish. What else you got?”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you don’t like spending time with me,” she teased, taking great delight in seeing Joe turn beet red. “Now. The residue on Andi’s skin is a lotion of some sort. I’m looking into that too. Should be able to tell you the brand within a few days, I hope.”
He grinned. “I appreciate you. Anything else?”
“Nope, you’re free to go. See you later, Joe.”
He dialed the bar’s number as he walked out to his car to confirm the man he sought was on shift.
“Sounds like I’m heading to Pantego,” he said to himself as he climbed behind the wheel to head to Shady Jay’s.
***
- Writer
