Page 91 of This is Why We Lied
Sara had noticed the way the chef’s eyes had followed Mercy through the kitchen. “You think she wasn’t so alone?”
“Maybe,” Will said. “I’m going to talk to the waiters first, see if they noticed anything. The bartender’s got four DUIs, but they’re from the nineties. What is it with DUIs up here?”
“Small town. Not much else to do but get drunk and get in trouble.”
“You grew up in a small town.”
“I certainly did.”
Will’s attention was pulled toward the parking lot again. This time, he looked relieved.
The diesel engine of an F-350 rumbled over the downpour. The truck was hauling two Kawasaki Mule side-by-sides with all-terrain tires and GBI markings. Sara’s stomach clenched at the thought of Will going back up the mountain. Someone at the lodge had brutally murdered Mercy McAlpine. They were likely feeling safe right now. Will was about to change that.
Sara needed something to do other than worry. She reached up to kiss his cheek. “I’m going in. Nadine is probably ready for me.”
“Call me if anything comes up.”
She watched Will jump off the loading dock and jog toward the truck. Through sheets of rain. With his injured hand hanging down. With his bandage getting wet again.
Sara made a mental note to track down some antibiotics as she went back into the building. The heavy metal door sealed out the storm. The sudden silence made her ears ring. She walked down the long corridor that led to the morgue. The overhead lights were flickering. Water had seeped under the laminate floor tiles. Equipment from the recently closed maternity ward lined the halls.
She assumed the hospital would be one of the many rural medical centers that closed before the end of the year. Staffing was in short supply. There was only one doctor and two nurses covering the entire emergency department. Double those numbers would’ve still been short. After medical school, Sara had gotten a tremendous sense of pride from serving her local community. Now, rural hospitals couldn’t find staff, let alone keep them. Too much politics and too little sanity had them leaving in droves.
“Dr. Linton?” Amanda was waiting for her outside the closed door to the morgue. She had her phone in her hand and a frown on her face. “We should talk.”
Sara braced herself for another battle. “If you’re looking for an ally who can help you pull Will away from this case, then you’re wasting your time.”
“Being well-balanced does not mean carrying a chip on each shoulder.”
Sara let her silence be her response.
“Very well,” Amanda said. “Run down the victim for me.”
Sara took a moment to switch on her work brain. “Mercy McAlpine, thirty-two-year-old Caucasian female. Found on her family property with multiple stab wounds to the chest, back, arms and neck. Her pants were pulled down, which could indicate sexual assault. The murder weapon was broken off inside her upper torso. She was found alive but did not offer any identifying information about her killer. She expired at approximately midnight.”
“Was she wearing the same clothing you saw at dinner?”
Sara hadn’t thought about it until now, but she answered, “Yes.”
“What about everyone else? How were they dressed when you saw them after finding Mercy?”
Sara felt slow on the uptake. Amanda was obviously interviewing her as a witness. “Cecil was shirtless, wearing boxers. Bitty was in a dark red terrycloth robe. Christopher was wearing a bathrobe with fish on it. Chuck was wearing something similar, but with rubber ducks. Delilah was in green pajamas—pants and a button-down shirt. Frank was in boxers and an undershirt. Monica was in a black, knee-length negligée. I didn’t see Drew and Keisha or Sydney and Max. The app guys were both in their underwear. Will caught Paul coming out of the shower.”
“Paul is the one who was in the shower at one in the morning?”
“Yes,” Sara answered. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think they’re the early-to-bed types.”
“Nothing struck you as suspicious? No one stood out?”
“I wouldn’t call the family’s reaction normal, but no.”
“Run it down for me.”
“Cold is the phrase that keeps coming to mind, but I can’t say that I had a good impression of them even before they learned of Mercy’s death.” Sara tried to think back to the dinner. “The mother is very petite and defers to her husband. She piled on when her daughter was publicly humiliated. The brother is strange in that way that some men can’t help but be strange. The father was clearly putting on a show for the guests, but I imagine he would’ve treated me much differently if he’d known I’m a doctor and not a high school chemistry teacher. He comes off as the type who only likes women in traditional roles from the last century.”
“My father was like that,” Amanda said. “He was so proud of me when I joined the force, but the minute I outranked him, he started tearing me down.”
Sara would’ve missed the flash of sadness if she hadn’t been looking directly at Amanda’s face. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been hard.”
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