Read Online Dead Hot Shot (Loon Lake Fishing Mysteries) by Victoria Houston - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Victoria Houston
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one hand that lay palm down caught his eye. He knelt to check the right hand, then the left.
“Lewellyn — take a look at this.”
Lew dropped down beside him and leaned forward to closely examine the hands. The fourth finger on the left hand wore a large diamond ring but the nails on all five fingers, even the thumb, were ripped and torn. Same on the right hand: the fourth finger wore a large red stone in a gold setting but again, on every finger, the nails were torn.
Without looking up, Lew said, “Doc, I don’t need a microscope to see scrapings under these nails. She put up a struggle, that’s for sure.”
“It’s as if she was buried alive.”
“Yeah, but in water?”
“I know. It doesn’t make sense.”
CHAPTER 10
Doc, I know — I know — everyone grieves in their own way, but what bothers me — ” Muttering as they trudged up the stone stairs leading to the lakeside deck of the main house, Lew was talking as much to herself as to Osborne. He waited for her to finish her sentence but if she did the words got lost in the wind.
A late afternoon cold front had kicked in with an edge that turned the sky pewter and the air icy. Branches crowning the tall pines that surrounded the house tossed in fury as winds out of the north roared overhead. Hunching his shoulders, Osborne pulled the collar of his hunting jacket up around his neck. “You warm enough, Lew?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, near the top of the stairs, she stopped and turned towards Osborne. “Doc, how many hours have I been here?”
Before he could attempt an answer, figuring she knew better than he exactly how long it had been, Lew answered her own question: “Over six hours. And do you know that during all that time not once did I see Andy Reece or his daughter approach that poor woman’s body? Those two kept their distance the entire time. And I mean distance — at least twenty feet away. Not once did I see either one of them make the slightest attempt to say a final goodbye — not a touch, not a whisper. And for a woman who’s been so much a part of their lives?” She shook her head in disbelief.
“When it happened to me,” said Lew, pressing her right hand, fingers spread, against her chest, “when I saw my son lying on that slab in the hospital morgue? I couldn’t help myself. I gathered him up in my arms.” Her voice cracked, eyes glistening, and Osborne knew the memory of her son’s murder at the age of seventeen had just hijacked her heart.
“Take a deep breath,” he said, his own voice gruff. “I know what you’re saying, sweetheart — we’ve both been there.”
• • •
He would never forget those first moments after the emergency room doc had entered the waiting room to tell him all was lost. Mary Lee lay on the gurney, her hair a tangled mess. He had reached to smooth back the strands with his fingers, knowing she would hate for anyone to see her so disheveled, knowing it was all he could do for the woman who had borne his children. One nurse, observing his attempt to comb with his fingers, found a hairbrush and together they brushed and tidied Mary Lee’s hair and face. Only then, with a light kiss on the forehead, did he wish her Godspeed.
• • •
“I’m not saying they didn’t pay lip service to the awfulness of the situation,” said Lew, getting a grip, “but Doc, I’ve seen more attention paid to a dead bear for God’s sake.”
“Before you arrived maybe.”
“Possible. Yes, I’m sure you’re right. In the privacy of those first moments, you mean? It’s just. for the average family to find their mother, their wife, dead under any circumstances is such a shock to the system. You know yourself how often I deal with folks who are inconsolable. Not these two. Very cool, very calm.
“Oh well,” Lew shrugged, “Andy did tell me that both their families immigrated from Sweden — her great-grandfather and his grandmother. Could be the Reeces are just more stoic than the rest
“Lewellyn — take a look at this.”
Lew dropped down beside him and leaned forward to closely examine the hands. The fourth finger on the left hand wore a large diamond ring but the nails on all five fingers, even the thumb, were ripped and torn. Same on the right hand: the fourth finger wore a large red stone in a gold setting but again, on every finger, the nails were torn.
Without looking up, Lew said, “Doc, I don’t need a microscope to see scrapings under these nails. She put up a struggle, that’s for sure.”
“It’s as if she was buried alive.”
“Yeah, but in water?”
“I know. It doesn’t make sense.”
CHAPTER 10
Doc, I know — I know — everyone grieves in their own way, but what bothers me — ” Muttering as they trudged up the stone stairs leading to the lakeside deck of the main house, Lew was talking as much to herself as to Osborne. He waited for her to finish her sentence but if she did the words got lost in the wind.
A late afternoon cold front had kicked in with an edge that turned the sky pewter and the air icy. Branches crowning the tall pines that surrounded the house tossed in fury as winds out of the north roared overhead. Hunching his shoulders, Osborne pulled the collar of his hunting jacket up around his neck. “You warm enough, Lew?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, near the top of the stairs, she stopped and turned towards Osborne. “Doc, how many hours have I been here?”
Before he could attempt an answer, figuring she knew better than he exactly how long it had been, Lew answered her own question: “Over six hours. And do you know that during all that time not once did I see Andy Reece or his daughter approach that poor woman’s body? Those two kept their distance the entire time. And I mean distance — at least twenty feet away. Not once did I see either one of them make the slightest attempt to say a final goodbye — not a touch, not a whisper. And for a woman who’s been so much a part of their lives?” She shook her head in disbelief.
“When it happened to me,” said Lew, pressing her right hand, fingers spread, against her chest, “when I saw my son lying on that slab in the hospital morgue? I couldn’t help myself. I gathered him up in my arms.” Her voice cracked, eyes glistening, and Osborne knew the memory of her son’s murder at the age of seventeen had just hijacked her heart.
“Take a deep breath,” he said, his own voice gruff. “I know what you’re saying, sweetheart — we’ve both been there.”
• • •
He would never forget those first moments after the emergency room doc had entered the waiting room to tell him all was lost. Mary Lee lay on the gurney, her hair a tangled mess. He had reached to smooth back the strands with his fingers, knowing she would hate for anyone to see her so disheveled, knowing it was all he could do for the woman who had borne his children. One nurse, observing his attempt to comb with his fingers, found a hairbrush and together they brushed and tidied Mary Lee’s hair and face. Only then, with a light kiss on the forehead, did he wish her Godspeed.
• • •
“I’m not saying they didn’t pay lip service to the awfulness of the situation,” said Lew, getting a grip, “but Doc, I’ve seen more attention paid to a dead bear for God’s sake.”
“Before you arrived maybe.”
“Possible. Yes, I’m sure you’re right. In the privacy of those first moments, you mean? It’s just. for the average family to find their mother, their wife, dead under any circumstances is such a shock to the system. You know yourself how often I deal with folks who are inconsolable. Not these two. Very cool, very calm.
“Oh well,” Lew shrugged, “Andy did tell me that both their families immigrated from Sweden — her great-grandfather and his grandmother. Could be the Reeces are just more stoic than the rest
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