Holly leaned closer to the phone, her pulse quickening. “What kind of anomaly?”
“The sheriff’s reports showed no signs of his vehicle being forced off the road or any evidence of tampering with the vehicle. Thus, they assumed Paul lost control, ran off the road and died when his vehicle submerged in the bayou.”
“Yes?” Holly said. “That was all part of the report I read. They called it an accident. What was the anomaly in the coroner’s report?”
“There was no presence of any drugs, alcohol or toxins in his blood,” Swede continued.
“I know that,” Holly said, her patience thinning. “I read the coroner’s report several times.”
“What you might not have seen, because it was buried in the coroner’s notes, was that there was no white, pink or foamy mixture in his airways,” Swede said.
Holly frowned. “So?”
“And there was no water in his lungs.”
Silence filled the cab of the pickup as those words sank into Holly’s head.
“No water in his lungs?” She struggled to wrap her thoughts around that. “But he drowned. There should’ve been water in his lungs.”
“Both the absence of that foamy mixture in his airways and the lack of water in his lungs make it clear,” Swede paused for a moment, then added, “Paul didn’t die from drowning.”
“He died before he entered the water,” Simon said.
“Why would the coroner report the cause of death as drowning?” Holly asked.
“I’d suggest you ask him yourself,” Swede said. “Only you might be challenged to find him. He left his job as the parish medical examiner a couple of weeks following Paul’s death. This was after he applied for and received a freshly minted passport. I searched through his now-defunct bank account records and found a charge for airfare to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.”
“Paul died before he ran into the bayou?” She shook her head. “Of what?”
“That, I can’t tell you,” Swede said. “There was no indication of heart failure and, like I said, no drugs, alcohol or poisons found in his blood. There are some toxins that are lethal that don’t show up in blood and tissue analysis.”
“Are you telling me Paul was...” Holly pressed a hand to her mouth, “murdered?”
“That would be my guess,” Swede said. “Either the M.E. knew who did it or was paid to falsify that report by an anonymous donor and told to leave the country as soon as possible.”
“Wow.” The next thought that rushed into Holly’s head made her press her knuckles to her lips to hold back a sob. She had to breathe in and out several times before he could speak past the lump in her throat. “If Paul was murdered...that means that my parents’ boat accident might not have been an accident at all.”
Her stomach roiled. Suddenly, the truck cab seemed to close in around her. Her heart raced, and she couldn’t seem to get enough air into her lungs.
Holly shoved open her door and slid out of her seat. When her feet hit the ground, her knees buckled, and she sank to the dirt. Once there, she curled into the fetal position, her body spasming with the force of her sobs.
Hands gripped her arms and pulled her up against a hard wall of muscles. Arms wrapped around her and held her close, rocking her gently as the grief she’d refused to acknowledge and the hope she’d clung to for the past six months dissolved into a messy, horrible truth she wasn’t ready to grasp.
Through her sobs, Simon’s voice droned in a continuous, soothing tone, promising she would be all right, telling her he was there for her and wouldn’t let go.
She cried until there were no more tears left inside, and she succumbed to a numbness she couldn’t push past.
Simon scooped her up in his arms and rose.
Holly couldn’t even manage to raise her arm to loop it over his shoulder. She closed her eyes to the starlight twinkling cheerfully overhead. Did they ever grieve?
He carried her down to the dock and across the gangway, shifting her gently to maneuver the key in the lock. Then he was through the door with her, kicking it shut behind him.
He didn’t stop there.
Barely aware of her surroundings, Holly rested her cheek against Simon’s chest. The beat of his heart was like a metronome. She focused on its steady rhythm, letting it cloak her thoughts against the horrible truth.
Paul and her parents had been murdered.
