“That’s really sad.”
“Yeah.”
“I would think this takes precedence,” I prodded. “I mean ... this could be murder, right?” The body was badly mangled.
“It could be an accident,” Derrick pointed out. “I mean ... it is right next to the train tracks.”
“Yeah, but ....” It looked as if someone had swiped at the body with a knife. Maybe even a hundred swipes. I was a gore hound when it came to movies, and yet even I found it difficult to look at the remains. “How long do you think he’s been out here?”
Derrick shrugged. “The medical examiner will be able to give us a better idea. He’s about twenty minutes out.”
I glanced at the sky. It looked as if it was about to open up with a terrific bout of freezing rain.
“You don’t have to stay,” he offered. “We’ll send out a news release in a few hours.”
I thought about the scene I would likely face at the office — a positively giddy Fish teasing me — and shook my head. “No, I’ll wait it out.”
“I figured.” Derrick’s grin was back. He almost appeared smug as he leaned against one of the police cruisers. “So, tell me what’s going on in your life?”
“Is this more of that psychobabble Devon’s trying to get you to participate in?”
“No, this is cousin-babble. See, I know you. You’re hiding something.”
“I’m not hiding anything,” I protested, my temper jumping to my throat. “I’m an open book.”
“Yeah, you’re a consummate liar when you’re trying to cover up your feelings. Just tell me what you’re hiding. Is it about Tad?”
I hesitated. Tad Ludington was my college boyfriend, though that wasn’t a stat I would ever list on a rèsumè. I dated him after Jake, and I really regretted wasting time on him. After college, he moved to Macomb County and won a county commission seat, from which he proceeded to build his legacy as my arch nemesis. We’d been at each other’s throats for years.
Six weeks ago, he’d been shot and left for dead. He could’ve easily died, and was close a couple of times, but he’d pulled through. Unfortunately, during the time he was unconscious I was considered a suspect in his shooting. I’d been suspended from the newspaper until things could be cleared up, and my future looked bleak. Only Eliot’s insistence on working with me had kept me sane. He was driving me to the nuthouse these days, but that was a concern for another time.
“It’s not Tad, though I don’t suppose you know how he is?” I felt stupid asking about Tad given our history.
“He’s back on his feet, terrorizing the county government through FaceTime if the stories are to be believed.” Derrick let loose a smirk. “I think he still has some physical therapy in front of him, but I hear he’s coming back to work full time any day now.”
That was not what I wanted to hear. “He shouldn’t have won that election.”
Derrick smirked. “He got the sympathy vote because of the shooting.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t make it right.”
“We’re stuck with him now. He won’t come up for election again for another two years.”
“I guess I have that to look forward to.” I was momentarily morose. “I know that I shouldn’t wish him ill, but he really is the world’s biggest tool.”
“He is,” Derrick agreed. “Is that what has you worked up? Are you angry with yourself for wishing bad things upon him? He’s got it coming where you’re concerned.”
“I don’t feel bad about wishing he would fall in a well and have to live there with the other trolls.”
“Then what has you so worked up?”
“What makes you think I’m worked up?”
“I’ve met you.”
The inclination to confide in Derrick was suddenly overwhelming, even though I knew it was a mistake. Thankfully, one of the deputies walking the tracks picked that moment to signal to him.
“That doesn’t look good,” I noted, focusing on the white-faced deputy. He was breathing hard, bent over at the waist, hands resting on his knees. I thought he might vomit. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing regurgitated doughnuts.
I didn’t ask for permission to follow Derrick — I rarely asked for permission on a crime scene — silently following him to the deputy.
“What is it?” Derrick asked.
“Over there,” the deputy rasped out, pointing to a copse of trees. “I ... you ... it’s hell on earth.”
Oh, well, that was enough to pique my interest.
Derrick didn’t look over his shoulder or admonish me to stay back. To me, that signaled tacit invitation. I made sure not to crowd him so he wouldn’t remember my presence.
The second we walked around to the other side of the trees, the bits of red I saw had my heart pounding.
As if in slow motion, he pushed back the bough of a tree, revealing one of the most horrific sights I’d ever seen ... real world or horror movies.
There had to be at least five bodies. My brain simply wouldn’t compute what I saw. They were piled on top of each other, almost like a pile of logs, discarded in the middle of the small clearing like the rest of the trash littering the nearby abandoned lots.
Derrick viciously swore under his breath as he let the tree branch swing back. When he turned and found me standing directly behind him, all traces of emotional empowerment were gone.
“What are you doing here?” His tone was accusatory. “You’re not supposed to be here.” He grabbed my shoulders and shoved me back. “Get back to the lot. This is a closed crime scene.”
I didn’t take his change of heart personally. I knew what he was facing. The first body by the train tracks could’ve been a terrible accident, a drunken mall Santa who had fallen asleep on the tracks or inadvertently walked in front
