Vic starts laughing at me.
“You’re blind,” she concludes. “I’ve seen how he looks at you.”
Bodhi
The car creaks and groans as it slowly surfaces from the rapids.
Water sluices from the bottom of the wreck, dangling from the mobile crane the CBI forensics unit showed up armed with.
I ended up going down with their divers to pinpoint the location. It took a bit to find it back in the churning water. I could see the vehicle had been left mostly intact, despite the constant force of the water, but when the beam of one of the diving lights hit the driver’s side window, I wasn’t prepared for the gentle swaying of skeletal remains still strapped in behind the wheel.
“It looks like it’s been in the water for a while. That’s an old model Civic,” Cheddar says beside me. “I used to have one similar in college.”
It was a popular car. Like a lot of young guys at the time, one of my buddies had one and souped it up, installing one of those oversized mufflers and a spoiler kit. I’d been envious at the time, driving my mother’s old beater.
Durango PD shut down the street, diverting all traffic, but the activity seems to have drawn quite a few onlookers and even some reporters. Every neck is craned when the car hovers overhead before it’s loaded directly onto a waiting flatbed truck, where it is covered with a tarp.
“Appreciate your help, guys.” One of the agents approaches and shakes our hands. “The body was a bit of a surprise.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Wasn’t expecting that. Any idea who the victim is?”
He looks back at the truck.
“Not yet, but it shouldn’t be too hard to find out. It’ll just take the lab some time, see if there’s anything identifiable left.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t remove the body for the medical examiner,” Cheddar comments.
“Not with all these gawkers around,” he says. “We’ll just transport the entire thing to the local police lab before we extricate.”
I nod, it makes sense.
“Anyway. I should get going. Thanks again.”
We watch him jog to the CBI van and get in.
“Yeah, I should head home too,” Cheddar supplies. “I want to catch a few winks before the kids come home from daycare. Otherwise I may as well give up on sleep altogether.”
I walk with him to where our vehicles are parked and get in my truck, ready to have a nap myself, right after I eat something. We came straight here from the firehouse after our shift, and I barely pieced together a couple of hours between calls.
My temporary lodging—the trailer I moved into two weeks ago—is just on the other side of the river. My fridge is pretty well stocked but I don’t particularly feel like cooking, so I end up pulling into the parking lot of the Pickled Egg. It’s a small restaurant serving only breakfast and lunch where our crew sometimes stops to eat.
The familiar old-fashioned bell mounted on the door jingles when I push it open. The mouthwatering smell of the grill greets me when I walk in.
“Hey, Bodhi!”
I look up to find Jeannie Anderson—daughter of the owners and one of my sister’s friends from high school—coming out of the kitchen carrying a few plates.
“Jeannie.”
“Why don’t you take a seat, I’ll be right with you.”
“I’m not staying,” I return, but she’s already off to deliver the orders.
I don’t have to wait long for her to approach me with a smile.
“So if I can’t get you to stay, what can I get you to go?”
“Breakfast burger, home fries, and a black coffee.”
She puts in the kitchen order and pours my coffee in a carry-out cup, handing it to me.
“Where’s the rest of your crew today?”
“Probably at home in bed by now.”
“How come you’re not?” she asks while getting a take-out bag ready with packets of pepper and salt, and some plastic cutlery.
“Had a few things to finish up.”
“Gotcha.”
She throws me a grin and grabs the coffeepot, stopping next to the occupied tables to refill the cups. I take another sip of mine, hoping my food won’t be too long. I’m beat.
A couple walks in and I recognize the guy as one of my old teammates from high school. We played football together. I remember he was an offensive guard, a big guy, and from the look of him he’s gotten even bigger over the years. I was a runt compared to the rest of the team but I had steady hands and could run like the wind. That earned me a spot as a running back.
The guy throws me a glance before holding out a chair for the woman with him. I don’t recognize her.
It’s funny, Durango is not a huge town—not quite twenty thousand residents—growing up here you’d think I’d see people I know all the time. Especially working as a firefighter. But after graduation people tend to disperse and there aren’t that many who remain in the same circles. I was always a bit of an outsider anyway and there were only a few guys I hung out with. We were the troublemakers, the rebels. When I came back from college in Arizona, those guys were long gone.
I’m still not a social butterfly but I have better taste in the company I keep. Mostly guys from work.
“Hey, I meant to ask you, how’s Anika?”
Jeannie slips behind the counter to prep a fresh pot, but keeps an eye on me.
“She’s fine. She opened her own salon last year.”
She looks surprised.
“Really? That’s amazing.”
To my great relief my order is ready, stopping the flow of questions. Jeannie is nice enough but she talks incessantly and I’ve reached my daily quota of aimless chatter.
Tossing a few bills on the counter, I grab my bag, and with a casual, “Thanks,” head to my truck.
I would’ve much rather listened to Trin talk, but that plan fell flat this morning. I wanted to call her myself to let her know I couldn’t make it for breakfast, but Vic refused to give me her number. I should’ve copied it when Vic tossed me her phone to call Trin early Saturday morning, but things were a bit hectic. She did promise to pass on my regrets and I hope she kept her word. I could probably find her number some other way, but I don’t want to come across as some stalker.
It takes me five minutes to scarf down my food when I get to the trailer and after a quick shower, I close the blinds against the midday sun and roll into bed. But the moment my head hits the pillow my phone pings on the nightstand.
303 759 3425: Thought I’d give you mine. Trin.
Chapter 8
Trin
I agonized for about two minutes after Vic went to bed before pulling up Bodhi’s number.
It took him only a few seconds to respond to my text with a simple thank-you.
Yesterday, during his shift, he messaged to ask how Tuck was doing and this morning he let me know he was heading home to sleep but would get in touch later.
The last time I felt this antsy I was in high school, waiting for my teenage crush to call. In an attempt to burn off some of that energy, I started looking into some of the care facilities I pulled up and am shocked to discover how expensive they are. Close to five thousand a month on average. I’ll have to sit down with Vic when she wakes up and crunch some numbers to see if it’s even feasible.