Pit Perfect, page 15
“You can bill me,” Parker said.
She had dark circles under her eyes, and her brunette hair lacked shine and bounce. I could still smell smoke on her. She hadn’t showered since last night. “Go on back. He’s waiting for you.”
“I’ll wait out here for you,” I said to Parker.
“All right,” he said, but I saw the disappointment on his face, and it crushed me.
I wanted to speak to Lacy alone, but not at the expense of Parker’s feelings. “Wait up.” Smooshie and I met him at the open office door. “I want to go in with you.”
“Sure,” he said. A muscle in his jaw unclenched. “I’m glad. Dad offered to come, but I think his nerves would just make mine worse.” More quietly, he offered, “You have a real calming effect on me, Lily Mason.”
“I’m glad.” A woozy joy swept over me. Ugh. Stop it.
Jock Simmons said, “You going to stand out there all day or are you coming in?”
Jerk. I searched for the telltale signs of a fight, but his knuckles, along with his nails, were pristine. Maybe he hit her with something other than his fists. Even if he didn’t use his wife as a punching bag, he made my Shifter alarms go off. This guy was a baddie.
His eyebrows rose as he recognized me. “You,” he said. “You’re Nadine’s friend.”
And you’re the cheating scum who beats your wife. I nodded and said, “Yep.”
Parker gave me a look that said, “Do you know everyone in town?” We took the two seats across from Jock. Elvis sat calmly and quietly next to Parker, while Smooshie stood between me and the large desk, panting hard while her tail knocked out the “William Tell Overture” against the hardwood.
I bit my lower lip and pretended she wasn’t creating a ruckus.
“Let’s get down to it,” Jock said. “I’m sorry to say, but your case is going to court. I’ve conferred with Michael Barnett, the lawyer from Cape Girardeau. He will meet you in my office on Thursday to take over your case. The evidence is circumstantial against you, but it was strong enough for the judge to deny the initial dismissal paper. Barnett is better at assessing whether a jury or a judge trial will benefit you the most. With a pile of circumstantial evidence, my bet is he will suggest going with just a judge, but considering the case, I think a jury of your peers might be sympathetic.”
In other words, Jock Simmons thought a jury might find Parker “not guilty” because the person he was accused of killing was an unlikeable human being. On one hand, I was glad the news wasn’t completely dire, but on the other hand, I was annoyed that this man actually believed the victim wasn’t worth justice. I wanted Parker off the hook for Katherine Kapersky’s murder more than anything right now, but she was still a person, and her husband would miss her even if nobody else did.
I knew my own baggage was coloring my thoughts. The police in my town had considered my brother trash. They believed because of his ties to some drug activity in town that he’d somehow brought his death on himself. It turned out his murder had nothing to do with drugs, but even if it had, he deserved to have someone give a damn that his life had been snatched away from him before his time.
I took a deep breath, trying to rid myself of the anxiety building in my chest. This wasn’t Paradise Falls, and Katherine Kapersky wasn’t my brother. Parker was the only person who mattered right now, and his innocence was the only thing I should be thinking about.
Smooshie started to circle the carpet. “Uh-oh.”
“Better take her outside,” Parker said.
Chapter 19
The wind kicked up as I walked Smooshie behind the building to what I hoped was a patch of grass and not a snow-covered concrete pad. I didn’t have any plastic bags with me, so wherever the poop landed it was staying. I looked around conspiratorially. We were alone. “Go at it, girl.”
Smooshie went to the end of her leash and began circling the snow. Potty was imminent.
I heard the shuffling of footsteps on the sidewalk. The stride was too short to be Parker. Tom Jones rounded the corner of the building seconds later. The genuine shock on his face mirrored my own surprise.
“Hey,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
“A friend had an appointment.” I didn’t say what friend or with whom he had the appointment. I didn’t figure it was any of Tom’s business. “What are you doing here?”
“The Smile Factory is my office,” he said, giving me a white, toothy grin. I noticed then he had something in his right hand. When he spotted me staring, he held out his palm. He held a cigarette. “Caught me.”
“I didn’t know you smoked.” I hadn’t smelled it on him during any of our encounters.
“I don’t.” He held it up then rolled it between his fingertips. “Not anymore. It’s been about a year now, and I sometimes miss the routine of smoking.” He laughed. “It’s dumb, but I just like to come out and pretend to smoke.”
“It’s not dumb,” I told him. I understood the comfort of routine, and how disruptive life could be without it. Smooshie dropped a hot steamy pile that quickly melted down into the snow leaving a brown hole in its wake. I winced. “Sorry about that. I…I don’t have anything to pick it up.”
Tom wagged the unlit cigarette at me. “You don’t tell on me, and I won’t tell on you.”
“Deal.” Smooshie curled up against the outside of my thigh, and I gave her a quick pat. “Have they got any suspects for last night?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, for Ed’s murder.”
“Oh, yeah, no. No one yet.” He put the cigarette to his lips and let it dangle. “It was pretty chaotic. I suppose everyone at the bar is a suspect.” He pushed his glasses up his nose with his right hand. The imprints on his nose were pretty deep, which meant they were heavy lenses.
“You can’t wear contacts?”
“My eyes are sensitive. They look like two pools of blood with irises in the middle after two hours.”
“Yikes.”
He wore a white lab coat with two waist pockets and Dr. Tom Jones, D.D.S., P.C. embroidered on the right breast panel. He slid the cigarette into his left pocket. “I’m glad you and Nadine made it out of Nix’s last night before the fire got you. I saw you pull her out the back door. You’re pretty strong for a woman. Especially a tiny thing like yourself.”
“Uhm, thanks.” I guess. Why hadn’t he offered to help me? Was he the note writer? Had he seen me in my cougar form and was saving it for a rainy day request? Maybe he was just the kind of man who didn’t put himself in harm’s way if he could help it. “I wonder if they figured out what caused the wound on Ed’s neck,” I mused.
Tom shrugged. “I determine if a body needs to be investigated, but I don’t really have much to do with a case after that.”
“You all get a lot of bodies?” Because two in a row seemed pretty damned excessive, even from a Shifter point of view.
“No, can’t say that we do. These are the first violent deaths for me since I was elected coroner two years ago. We’ve had a couple of unexpected or sudden deaths that I was called out for, but both of them were ruled as natural causes. I can’t remember the last time this town had a homicide case, actually.”
“The night of Katherine’s death, did you all find something by her body?”
“Like what?”
I shook my head. “It’s dumb and probably has nothing to do with anything.”
“Then it won’t hurt anything to tell me.”
“There was a silver clip.”
“A clip?”
“Like what people attach hairpieces with. An alligator clip. A small one.”
His eyebrows perked up, wrinkling his forehead, and his eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. It was about an inch long. Silver. Nothing attached to it.”
“That’s a strange thing to find next to her body.”
“I thought so, but the police didn’t find it. I went back to look, but it’s gone now.”
“Ah well, probably an animal carried it off. There are plenty at Knowles’ place.”
Smooshie panted hard as if stressed, reminding me her potty break was over. “We better get back now.”
“Me too,” he said. “I have to lock up the office.”
“Lily!” I heard Parker yell.
“I’m here,” I said loudly and picked up the pace.
Smooshie thought I meant to run and took off at a lope, her massive muscles yanking me forward. I lost my footing and slammed down on the sidewalk. Whoever said cats always landed on their feet, obviously never owned a cat that could walk on two legs.
“Oh man,” Tom said. He reached down and grabbed me under the armpits. This close, his jacket smelled like mouthwash and antiseptic. Smooshie got the wrong impression and started growling at him, jerking my arm back as she stood over me.
Parker appeared and helped me to my feet. “Are you okay?”
There was a one-inch gash in the palm of my hand from where I’d landed on a piece of coarse gravel. “Yeah. Thanks.”
Parker took Smooshie’s leash, and Tom took my hand. “It’s a pretty deep cut,” he said. “It needs to be stitched.”
“It’s not that bad,” I lied. My hand throbbed as blood gushed from the wound and dripped down my fingers.
“Come to my office. I can at least get it cleaned up for you.”
“You’re a dentist,” Parker said.
Tom looked offended. “I can handle an injured hand, Knowles.”
Smooshie began tugging at her leash, barking as she scraped the pavement with her nails, trying to get back to me, but Parker kept her reined in.
“Smooshie, calm down.” I grabbed a handful of snow and pressed it against the open slash to slow the blood flow. “I appreciate the offer, Tom. I can’t drive like this anyhow.”
“You want me to stay?” Parker asked.
“Smooshie’s had enough for one day. Can you take her back to your place?”
“This won’t take long,” Tom added.
“All right.” Parker’s expression soured. “I’ll take Smooshie and Elvis.” He narrowed his gaze on Tom, and I saw the barest hint of a triumphant smile in the slight tug of the corner of Parker’s mouth. It was the first time I realized he and Tom didn’t like each other. Nadine had said Bridgette dated Parker in high school. They were sweethearts for two years. Was Tom jealous of Parker’s past with Bridgette? Or worse, was Parker jealous of Tom?
We made our way around to the front of the building. Lacy Evans stood on the sidewalk talking on her cell phone. We were far enough away that Tom wouldn’t be able to hear the conversation, but I dialed up my Shifter ears and listened as we approached The Smile Factory’s door.
“I said I’m fine.” Her body language was rigid, her tone angry. “I had too much to drink, is all. No, I won’t go to the ER. Mom, just stop. Look, I have choir tonight, and you said you’d watch Paulie. Either you will or you won’t. I don’t need a lecture. Just tell me if I need to come home. Fine,” she said. “Thank you. I won’t be out too late. Promise.” She hung up and looked over at Tom and me. Her rosy cheeks paled.
“Come on,” Tom said as he opened the door. He barely glanced at Lacy.
There was a giant drawing of a cartoon tooth on the right-side wall dressed as a knight, riding a drill, and holding a toothbrush as a lance. Below it was structural toys, beads on wires, puzzles, and a block station.
Thinking about Lacy, and maybe a little about myself, I said, “It’s hard being a single parent.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Tom replied. He qualified the statement by adding, “Bridgette and I want kids, we just haven’t found the right time.”
I could taste the bitterness of the lie. Or at least, he wasn’t telling the whole truth.
“There’s really no wrong or right times when it comes to children. Or so I heard.”
Tom tensed his shoulders then let them droop. “We were almost parents. Once.”
When I didn’t respond, he continued. “Bridgette was seven months along. We lost the baby.”
“Gosh, I’m so sorry. Is she doing okay?”
“I…she’s had a few issues. Our obstetrician called it a post-partum depression.” His face darkened with sadness as he spoke of their loss. I hated that my gift had made him tell this painful story. “That was almost two years ago.”
“I bet you all will make wonderful parents when it happens.”
Tom smiled. He blinked as if he’d only just realized how much he’d told me. “Bridgette did the mural on the wall. My young patients love it. They get so excited to see Sir Brushes-A-Lot.”
“That’s adorable.”
“It was Bridgette’s idea.” He beamed with pride as he spoke about his wife’s creativity.
“She’s really talented.”
“She’s an artist, and that makes her a great dental technician,” he said. “Bridgette can match a tooth shade on the first try. It’s uncanny.”
“She works with you then? You met at work?”
“I’ve known her my whole life.”
The exam room was an eight-by-eight square with gray carpet and light-blue walls. There were two counters with drawers and cabinets on two walls. In the middle was an examination chair with a big light hanging over it. A small fountain with a drain was affixed to the right side. I’d never actually been inside a dentist’s office, but it was about what I expected.
Tom turned on the water in the sink and got out some antiseptic and gauzes. Next, he donned a pair of gloves. “Let’s get that washed out and see what we’ve got.”
“I hate to keep you. I’m sure you’re ready to get home.”
“Bridgette has choir practice until six-thirty tonight.”
“Oh yeah, they’re singing for the funeral Thursday.”
“The family-night visitation,” Tom corrected. Gently, he washed my hand with some soap from his dispenser. It had a strong medicine smell, bitter and yucky. He patted the area with the gauze then pressed down with some clean squares. “Hold that with firm pressure. It is definitely going to need stitches.”
He walked across the small room and opened a drawer. From behind, he pushed his glasses up, and I had a flash of memory from the night before. The blond man arguing with Ed. “You were at Nix’s last night.”
“Yes, they called me to the scene.”
“You weren’t there earlier?”
“Nope.”
He was lying. Why?
“I could have sworn…” The look he gave me stopped me cold. “Never mind. I’d had a few drinks in me,” I said as a way of apology.
Tom crossed the room back to me with a suture kit in hand. He had a small syringe with an itsy-bitsy needle filled with clear fluid. “It’s lidocaine to numb the area.” He squirted some of the liquid inside the wound, and the pain eased. After he had injected the area around the gouge, he poked inside and depressed the plunger until all the pain med was in my hand.
“Give it a minute and it should go completely numb.”
“Dang, Tom.” My palm felt thick but pain-free. “You missed your calling.”
He had me lay my hand flat on a sterile sheet, then draped another one over the top like a sterile sheet sandwich, and my hand was the meat. The one on topo had a hole in the middle that allowed him access to the cut. Next, he took off his first pair of glove and put on sterile set, and laid out a small crescent moon needle with black thread attached and some sterile gauzes in the germ-free field. His conscientiousness about his work made me think he was probably a really good dentist.
He poked the inside of the wound with the needle. “Feel anything?”
“Nope. You did a good job.”
He shook his head. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure how much lidocaine to use for a hand. It’s weird not staring down at your tonsils while working.”
“They aren’t that impressive,” I said.
“You do have good teeth. I noticed that right away.”
“Good genes.”
My phone rang, and I pulled it from my pocket with my free hand. It was Parker.
“How’s it going?” he asked when I answered.
“Good,” I said. “Just about done here.”
Tom nodded in agreement. “Two more stitches will do it.”
“Did you hear that?”
“Yeah,” Parker said. “As long as you’re okay. Do you need a ride?”
“Nah. Martha is running smooth thanks to your dad. Quit worrying so much.”
As Tom put in the last stitch, I looked around. There was a tray with a blue cloth and instruments laying out in a row. They looked like torture devices. No wonder humans hated going to the dentist.
Tom bandaged my hand and set the rolled gauze with tape. “I’ll be right back,” he said. “I have some antibiotic samples in my office.”
“You still there?” Parker asked.
“Yep,” I said. I sat on the edge of the dental chair. It was nice having someone worry about me. “I’m still here.”
“I just wanted to check in.”
I smiled. “You worried about me?”
“Maybe.”
“That’s nice.” I strolled over to the counter and played with a tooth model displaying enamel erosion and advertising some product meant to fix the problem. There were white bottles with lids near the sink. One of them said Peri-lavage. The main ingredient was chlorhexidine, like the stuff Parker used on the dogs.
I opened it up and recognized the medicine and alcohol scent. The same scent I’d detected from Katherine Kapersky.
“Lily?” Parker asked at my silence.
“Oh. Oh no.”
“What’s wrong?” Parker asked.
“Nothing.” My sense of smell wasn’t proof of anything. Besides, Tom had looked genuinely ill when he’d seen Katherine’s body. He couldn’t fake that kind of upset, could he?
Tom came back in the room with a small box. He shook it, the packets of tablets rattling inside. “These should take care of any infection.”
I took the box from Tom. “Hey, Parker. I’m just about done here.”
Tom gave me an odd look as I hung up the phone. “You look like you swallowed a bug, Lily. Are you okay?”
