Page 41 of Forever Dark
“You’re not in… Wherever you’re from… You’re in Harlan.We do thingsourway.”
Selena smiled without warmth.“You’ll be doing things my way until I’m done.And maybe you can stop acting like a county line outranks a federal badge—that would be a good start.”
Blethan stood.
He was taller than she had expected.Not by much, but enough to make the little office feel smaller.
“Enough of this nonsense.I suppose you want to see the body?”
“I do.”
“Then come on.”
He walked past her and opened the door.
Selena followed him down the corridor.His boots made solid sounds on the tile.Hard steps that matched the set of his shoulders.The man was angry, but not flustered.That bothered her more than she wanted to admit.
Don’t let him get to you,Selena, she thought.But she could already feel herself edging toward another argument.It was swirling inside of her.
They passed a storage room, a staff toilet, and a small break area with a kettle, two mugs, and a packet of cookies left open on the counter.At the end of the hall, Blethan unlocked a steel door and pushed it inward.
Cold air drifted out.
The morgue was cleaner than the office.
Two examination tables stood under bright overhead lights.Stainless steel counters ran along one wall.A bank of refrigerated drawers occupied the rear.Everything had its place here.Instruments arranged.Surfaces wiped down.Labels straight.No clutter, no casual mess.At least it was organized.
Blethan crossed to the drawers and pulled one open.The rollers whispered.
The body lay under a white sheet.
Selena stepped closer.Whatever irritation had been building inside her flattened into something colder and more useful.
Blethan folded the sheet back.
Brenda Colter’s face appeared under the light, emptied of expression, skin waxen, mouth closed, eyelids still.Selena had seen death in too many forms for the sight itself to shake her.What troubled her was always the same thing.The body had become evidence, but it had once been a person.Someone had spoken to them.Someone had known the sound of their footsteps.Someone, somewhere, still expected the world to make sense without them in it.
She leaned in, careful not to touch.
“These marks here,” she said.“You classified them as post-mortem abrasion?”
“Aye.She was moved about.”
“Still confident?”
“Yes.”
“No hesitation?”
“If I had hesitation, I’d have written hesitation.”
Selena looked across at him.“You always this charming?”
“Only when someone calls me unprofessional before I’ve finished my tea.”
She ignored that and studied the body again.
The report had covered the obvious.Cause.Approximate time of death.External injuries.Toxicology pending.Nothing in it had leapt out as wrong, but reports were never enough.Bodies had to be seen.Rooms had to be felt.People had to be pushed until something loosened.
