The Drinking Game

Did He Do It?

“I'm just trying to save the guy's reputation," Lieutenant Cameron Bentley said to the medical examiner slicing up a body.

Vivaldi played in the background. What a combination, vibrant music and dead bodies.

Doctor Jeff Press paused with his scalpel poised over the open abdomen. The squat man ruled this stainless steel palace. He probably disinfected himself before he left work.

Cam swallowed. The scent of death mixed with antiseptic assaulted his nostrils. He fought not to gag.

“The suicide matters in light of the other incriminating evidence?"

“For a cop. At least he could go with a little more dignity then having offed himself with his own gun." Cam paused. He couldn't reveal what he knew.

The doctor shrugged and sliced up another organ. “The bottom line is that the gunshot wound was post mortem."

Cam's mind came back to the child support payments this month. He didn't have enough capital to pay his ex-wife and this doctor. Besides, he couldn't risk it. Rubbing the back of his neck he asked, “Could you delay releasing the report until after he's buried?"

The doctor's stern gaze darted to Cam and the lieutenant thought he'd gone too far. “It's part of a major criminal investigation. I can't do that. Besides, nothing's going to happen until I get the labs back in a day or two. What is your part in all this? I know the deceased had been a cop."

Cam stepped back and ran a beefy hand through his greasy, brown hair. Damned debts. “Ken was a good cop. I don't want to see his reputation tainted." Ken's death would make the shipments late and therefore his payments for them would be late.

“I would think the evidence found with him would preclude that. Look. I need to get this autopsy done. Then vacation for a week and I really want my major cases done."

And I'm retiring in a month and I don't need this on my watch. Cam smiled, but didn't let the thoughts get out. “Of course, I understand. I just thought we could come to an agreement."

Slicing up a liver, the doctor said, “I can't be bribed."

Cam put his hands up in supplication. “I meant since we were all on the same side."

A big, dark man in a white lab coat poked his head into the autopsy room. “Doc, someone here to see you. FBI."

The doctor rolled his eyes. “You law enforcement types will be the bane of my existence today."

“A hot redhead. Didn't know Feds could look that good," the newcomer said.

Cam's heart skipped a beat. He knew a redheaded FBI lady. Of course she would come. She and Ken were to be married. Well, not anymore.He left and the doctor turned back to Cam. “Unless you have anything useful to say, I must get on with this."

“Well, I..." and not being able to think of what else to say, he pushed the door the young man had opened to deliver the message. Turning back he said, “This meeting never happened."

Once in the hall, Cam peered through a small glass square on the door to the waiting room. His heart lost its rhythm for a second and sweat appeared on his palms. Wiping his hands on his pants he looked behind him. The same young man walked towards him with a knowing smile.

What could he know?

“She's a hot one."

Cam took a moment to realize he meant the redhead in her honey suit and sensible shoes. “Ah, yes. Do you have a back door?"

A puzzled look leapt onto the tall man's face. “Sure." He pointed over his shoulder. “Where funeral homes take the bodies, out the back door."

“Down this hallway?"

“At the door take a left."

Cam stumbled down the stark gray hallway almost desperate for air. His difficulty breathing had nothing to do with his bulk and lack of exercise. His heart raced and he moved as if someone were chasing him.

He couldn't face her. Not yet, but he knew Jennifer would come to see him. Too much history between them for her not to question him.

Around the corner a female voice said, “I can talk to him while he's doing the autopsy."

Cam glanced back down the hallway. She didn't look his way and the young man was too busy ogling her to notice him.

Not wanting to press his luck any further Cam traveled to the door that led back to the hospital. When he reached the dock, he gulped air. He waited until his heart slowed before he made the trek around the hospital to where he parked his car.

He couldn't face Jenny yet.

***

The day had been too hot for a high neck blouse, but Jennifer wished for one at the moment. Not that her attire revealed anything, but the young man standing in her personal space attempted to see something. Anything. Not like she was well-endowed, so his eagerness confused her.

Even with her observational skills honed by years as an FBI profiler, she couldn't tell the color of his eyes. His gaze had spent milliseconds on her face.

“Ma'am. I'm sure you don't want to see some cut up dead bodies."

Jen resisted rolling her eyes. Her Irish Catholic face had never served her well in law enforcement. She'd inherited it from her father and figured it hadn't helped him being a cop either.

Mentally counting to ten, she flashed him a professional smile. It held no warmth, but the guy wasn't interested in her teeth. “Trust me..." she searched for his identification badge.

“Calvin," he volunteered, a toothy grin rearranging his face.

“Calvin. I've seen more cut up bodies then you have. Now could I speak to Dr. Press?"

The man's gaze rested on her serious face. “He actually doesn't want to be disturbed. He'll be done in half an hour.

“Then could I wait in his office?" she asked.

“Sure."

Jen followed him down the gray, impersonal hall. Dead people didn't need pictures, but didn't the employees want to look at something more interesting than a drab wall?

Calvin left her to get a cup of coffee she probably wouldn't drink, but at least she had escaped his leer.

The office didn't sport any homey items, but then this probably wasn't the owner's office all the time. Based in Newark, the Medical Examiner only came out this way if called in on a case.

As she sank into a plastic seat, the weight of her task seemed to crush her.