Grave Matters

natural, almost as if she could just…sit up.'

'My baby,' the mother said.

An edge in his voice, Dean said, 'What killed her?'

'Gunshot to the back of the head,' Brass said.

'Ooooh,' Mrs. Dean said.

'She felt no pain,' the detective said.

Both parents looked at him, though Mrs. Dean's hand remained touching the glass.

'Is that…is that true?' the mother asked.

'It's true,' Brass said. 'She never knew what happened. I will say to you as the father of a girl not much older than your daughter…that's a blessing.'

'Where did you find her?' Dean asked.

'Why don't we sit down and I'll give you all the information,' Brass said.

Dean turned back to face the window, as did his wife. They looked at their little girl for another long moment before Sara finally covered Kathy Dean's face with the sheet and-as Mrs. Dean reluctantly broke contact with the glass-Brass pulled the curtain, banishing the image that neither parent would ever forget.

'Sit-please?' Brass gestured toward the table and the tissue box.

Both parents shook their heads, holding their ground, standing there waiting for more, when they clearly had already had more than enough.

Brass had no choice but to give it to them. 'As to where your daughter was, we found her in a grave in the Desert Palm Memorial Cemetery.'

Dean was understandably incredulous. 'Cemetery…how the hell…?'

Brass filled them in quickly, giving them the broad strokes of the fantastic situation.

'We're doing our best to find out how she ended up there,' Brass told the startled parents. 'Obviously we suspect the one who took her life did this thing as well.'

Brass eased the stunned mother and father out into the corridor.

'You can understand,' he said, 'why we'd like to talk to you about Kathy's activities around the time she disappeared.'

Before the door closed, Mrs. Dean stopped, looking back toward the curtained window. 'When can we take her out of that dreadful place?'

'Just a little longer,' Brass said. 'Now that Kathy's case is a homicide, we have to make sure we have all the evidence we can before we release her body.'

Mrs. Dean recoiled. 'I want her out of there now!'

'Mrs. Dean, please, I can certainly understand your feelings…but your daughter's body is our only link to her killer.'

'I don't care! I want her out of there!'

Jason Dean kept an arm tight around his wife. Wild-eyed, Mrs. Dean strained to get back into the viewing room; finally, Dean got control of her and looked pleadingly at Brass.

Keeping his voice low, his tone even, Brass said, 'Our crime scene people are the best. You met CSI Sidle- she cares deeply about this case, I promise you.'

Dean said, 'What kind of 'evidence' can you hope to find at this late date? We need to deal with this-we have arrangements to make. We want our daughter, Captain Brass.'

'Sir-there might be some microscopic clue that can lead us to her killer. Finding that piece of evidence might be the only way to stop whoever did this from doing it again…to someone else's daughter.'

Mrs. Dean turned toward him and her expression had an alertness, as if Brass had slapped her awake. 'You really think you can catch whoever did this?'

'I can't promise you. But our CSIs are the best, anywhere. And I promise you I will do my best. I see your daughter and, frankly…'

Something happened to Brass that hadn't happened to him on the job for a long, long time: He felt his eyes filling with tears.

He swallowed and said, 'I see your daughter and I see my daughter. Do I have to say more?'

Mrs. Dean studied Brass for a moment, then she touched his cheek, very gently, and allowed her husband to steer her away from the viewing room door.

They were still trudging toward the exit when Sara came out of the morgue and rejoined the somber parade.

They all got into the Taurus for the long ride back to the Dean home. More traffic made this ride slower than their initial trip to the house on Serene Avenue. Brass watched in the rearview mirror as the Deans huddled in the backseat. Now, though, Dean seemed to have gone inside himself while his wife stared out the window, seeing nothing.

Finally, Mrs. Dean turned to look at Brass in the mirror. 'I don't know what we can tell you that we haven't already told the other officers. When Kathy was a missing person.'

Brass smiled mildly. 'Well, let's go over it again and see what we can see.'

Mrs. Dean nodded slightly. 'What do you want to know?'

'How about her job at Habinero's Cantina? How did she get to work?'

'She had her own car.'

Dean said, '2003 Corolla. Your crime scene people impounded it after she disappeared.'

Sara caught Brass's eyes and mouthed: Dayshift.

Dean was saying, 'They found Kathy's Corolla abandoned in a parking lot on Maryland Parkway. We still haven't gotten it back.'

Brass ignored the small jab and asked, 'How'd Kathy like her job? Been there long?'

Mrs. Dean gave that some consideration, then said, 'She worked there for two years or so-started right before her seventeenth birthday.'

'Did she enjoy it there?'

'Most of the time.'

'Not all of the time?'

In the mirror, Brass saw Mrs. Dean wipe her nose with a tissue. 'She did have some trouble…with a boy she dated there for a while?'

'What kind of trouble?'

'I said it was a boy.'

Dean piped in to say, 'He couldn't take the hint that she had other, more important priorities in her life than dating.'

Definitely not the day to tell the Deans that they had almost been grandparents….

Brass said, 'What kind of trouble exactly?'

'He wouldn't stop calling her,' Mrs. Dean said, 'but that was right after she started at the restaurant. She'd only been there a month or so when they began dating. It must have been over in, oh…two months?'

'Did you tell the Missing Persons detectives about this?'

Mrs. Dean thought for a moment. 'I may have mentioned it, but maybe not-it was such old news.'

Brass stopped for a red light and turned to look at Mrs. Dean. 'Do you know if the detectives looked into it?'

'They never said.'

'The boy's name?'

The light turned green and Brass got them moving again.

'Gerardo Ortiz.'

'Did the trouble with this boy come to any kind of a head?'

Dean harumphed. 'Kid must have finally taken the hint. He stopped calling. I was just about ready to track him down and beat the ever-living crap out of him.'

Brass glanced in the mirror and saw the anger reddening Dean's face. 'But you're over that now… right?'

Rubbing his forehead and obviously forcing himself to calm down, Dean said, 'Yeah…yeah, I'm over it. Anyway…that kid quit the restaurant, disappeared, far as I know.'