Tessa nodded slowly. 'I know he does,' she said. 'Maybe I didn't want to tell him because I know what he'll say.' She gave a wry smile. 'He'll get exactly what he wants.'
'You don't have to marry him.'
'Oh, and give Dad a heart attack, living in sin?'
'I seriously doubt he'd have a heart attack.' Sara smiled. 'He might take you over his knee…'
'Yeah, well.' Tessa took a tissue from the center console. She blew her nose in three short bursts, the way she had done since she was a baby. 'Maybe somebody should take me over his knee.'
Sara squeezed her hand. 'You make this decision, Tess. Whatever you decide, I'm with you.'
'Thank you,' Tessa mumbled, wiping her nose with another tissue. She sat back against the window again, and took a long look at Sara. After a few beats, a smile broke out on her face.
Sara asked, 'What?'
'You look so obvious.'
'So obvious what?'
Tessa kept smiling. 'So obviously fucked.'
Sara laughed, and the sound echoed in the van.
'Was it good?' Tessa asked.
Sara glanced out the window, feeling a bit mischievous. 'Which time?'
'You slut,' Tessa screamed, throwing the used tissue.
'Hey.' Sara deflected the tissue with her hand.
'Don't go all big sister on me,' Tessa warned. 'Tell me what happened.'
Sara felt a blush creeping up her neck. 'No way.'
'What changed your mind?' she asked. 'I mean, last I heard, you didn't even want to date him.'
'Mama,' Sara answered. 'She told me to make up my mind.'
'And?'
'We've just been doing this stupid back-and-forth thing for so long.' Sara paused, thinking about how to phrase it. 'I have to give it another try. I either have to get him out of my system and go on, or keep him in my system and live with it.'
Tessa asked, 'Was it good?'
'It was nice to feel something new,' she said, thinking about the night before. 'It was nice to stop feeling guilty for a while.' As an afterthought, she added, 'And scared.'
'Over that missing girl?'
'Over everything,' Sara said, not going into details. She made it a point not to talk about her work at the morgue with her family. This protected Sara as much as it protected them. There had to be a part of her life that wasn't overshadowed by death and violence. 'It was nice to…'
'Have a screaming orgasm?'
Sara clicked her tongue, smiling. 'It was pretty spectacular.' She shook her head, because that wasn't right. 'It was amazing. Totally-'
'Oh, shit,' Tessa sat up, wiping her eyes. 'Dad's coming.'
Sara sat up, too, though she did not know why. It was not as if Eddie could send her to her room for sitting in the parking lot too long.
'Where's that auger?' he demanded, throwing open Sara's door. 'What're you two talking about in here?' When he did not get an answer, he said, 'Do you know how much gas you're wasting, sitting here with the engine running?'
Sara laughed, and he popped her on the leg, asking, 'What would your mama say if she saw that look on your face?'
Tessa answered, 'Probably, 'It's about damn time.''
They started giggling, and Eddie gave them both a sharp look before slamming the door closed and walking away.
The morgue was housed in the basement of the Grant Medical Center, and no matter how hot it got outside, it was always cool in the tiled subterranean rooms. Sara felt bumps come out on her skin as she walked back to her office.
'Hey, Dr. Linton,' Carlos said in his soft, heavily accented voice. He was dressed in his usual green scrubs, and held a clipboard at an angle against his thick waist. Sara had hired Carlos six years ago, right out of high school. He was short for his age, and wore his hair cut in a bilevel, which did not do much for his round face. Carlos was efficient, though, and he never complained about having to do what amounted to shit work, literal and figurative. Sara could trust him in the morgue to take care of things and keep his mouth shut.
Sara managed a smile for him. 'What's up?'
He handed her his clipboard, saying, 'That Weaver kid is still here. What do you want me to do with her?'
Sara felt her heart sink as she thought of the baby. Dottie Weaver had no reason to claim the child since Sara had told her it was not Jenny's. Something about that fragile little girl sitting in the freezer broke Sara's heart.
'Dr. Linton?' Carlos asked.
'I'm sorry,' Sara apologized. 'What did you say?'
'I asked what you wanted to do with the bodies.'
Sara shook her head at the plural, thinking she had missed something. She looked down at the chart and saw that Jenny Weaver's name was at the top. Sara thumbed through the paperwork, noting that she had released the body on Sunday. There was no accompanying form from the funeral home to verify that she had been picked up.
'She's still here?' Sara asked.
Carlos nodded, tucking a hand into his hip.
'We haven't gotten a call from Brock?' she asked, referring to the funeral director in town.
'No, ma'am,' he said.
Sara glanced back at the paperwork, as if that could offer an explanation. 'We haven't heard from the mother?'
'We haven't heard from anybody.'
'Let me make some phone calls,' she told him, walking into her office.
Sara knew the number to Brock's Funeral Home by heart, and she dialed it into the phone, watching Carlos through the window. He was mopping the floor in slow, deliberate strokes, his back to her.
The phone was picked up on the first ring. 'Brock's Funeral Home.'
'Brock,' Sara said, recognizing the man's voice. Dan Brock was Sara's age, and they had gone to school together from kindergarten on.
'Sara Linton,' Brock said, genuine pleasure in his voice. 'How you?'
'I'm great, Brock,' she answered. 'I hate to cut right down to business, but have you gotten a call on a Jennifer Weaver?'
'The one what was shot last weekend?' he asked. 'Sure haven't. Gotta say, I was expecting that call.'
