For a brief instant, I swore I saw a spark ofsomethingin the pathologist’s eyes before he looked away. “Maybe so.”
Was it shock? Interest? Embarrassment? It was too fleeting to properly judge.
“Did we find ID?” Rue broke the spell before I could properly assess Dominique’s response or die of shame for inadvertently fumble-flirting with a guy while at a crime scene, something my partner had specifically told me not to do.
Dominique shook his head as he crouched to organize the instruments in his carrier. “No. No ID. Most joggers don’t carry their wallets. The phone is locked with a passcode, but I assume you have people who can sort that out.”
“How soon before you can get to him?” Rue tipped her chin at the victim.
“I have no reason to delay. I’m finished here. Once he’s transported to the lab, I can start.”
“It’s Sunday,” Rue said.
Dominique shrugged. “Better today. Monday will be chaotic. We have a fresh lineup of students starting their winter semester rotation, and I’m in charge of getting them situated. If I put it off,he’ll end up being used as a teaching tool, and you won’t have so much as a preliminary report for several days.”
“All right. In that case…” Rue locked eyes with me. “How about you follow Dr. Chevalier and stand in on the autopsy. At least confirm what we already suspect and see if he has things to add. I’ll head to the office and try to figure out who this guy is. Someone must have realized he didn’t make it home from his morning run and reported it. I’ll update the sergeant, too.”
I saw what Rue was doing. Part of me was ecstatic to remain in Dominique’s presence for a few more hours—despite the circumstances of our encounter—but the more sensible part of me understood it would be nothing more than sweet torture. I didn’t need more time to put my foot in my mouth, and at this rate, that was exactly what was going to happen. Elifet had proclaimed many times that I was not equipped with the proper skills for picking up guys, and he was right.
I reluctantly agreed, making a mental note to chastise my partner later for interfering in my nonexistent love life. Obsessions and fantasies I could handle. I’d had crushes that amounted to nothing since grade school. Real life was where I floundered.
Note to self: Next time you notice a good-looking guy, think twice before opening your mouth.
Rue moved off to consult with CSIs, and Dominique arranged a team of paramedics to transport the body to the forensic laboratory. Instead of heading to my vehicle, I surveyed the scene again to be sure I hadn’t missed anything.
For the second time in a span of thirty minutes, as two attendants transferred the body to a black body bag, Dominique’s heated gaze warmed my face. I pretended not to notice, but the draw was too strong to resist. When I glanced across the expanse of the dirt trail, I caught him studying me with the same fixed intensity as earlier. I couldn’t interpretthe meaning behind the look, but I so badly wanted it to be attraction. Dominique guarded himself well, but a subtle strain beside his clouded winter eyes suggested uncertainty or reservation, so I was afraid to hope.
“Are you heading out?” I asked, breaking the spell.
Dominique cleared his throat and glanced at the body as the team zipped the bag. “Shortly.”
He stripped his gloves and dropped them on the medical tote before stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. His shoulders rose to his ears as he moved with what seemed to be cautious steps toward me. Was it mindfulness about compromising the scene, or was he unsure how to approach me?
Dominique stopped a few feet away, gaze fixed on the half-frozen river. The tip of his nose shone pink from the cold. We didn’t speak for a long time. I wasn’t sure what to say, and I got the sense Dominique might be in the same boat.
I watched him from the corner of my eye. The air crackled with anticipation, but was the interest one-sided? Was I seeing something that didn’t exist? Should I risk it and ask him for drinks?
At one point, Dominique crouched and picked up an odd-shaped rock from the edge of the trail, examining it as he stood. He tossed it into the water. It splashed several feet from the shoreline.
“Never could skip rocks.”
“It’s all in the wrist.” I found a flat rock and sent it soaring. It skipped three times before sinking.
Dominique stuffed his hands back into his pockets and angled his head toward me. Our gazes locked. “Why over thirty-five?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Your analysis. You said the perp was over thirty-five, but you didn’t explain that part. I’m curious.”
I smirked. “Oh. Easy. The note is written in cursive. They stopped teaching it in schools in the early 2000s. I think it’s been reimplemented into the curriculum, but that would have been recently. My generation missed out. Although I can read it, I couldn’t have written that note if I tried. Not neatly or legibly. I’d have to look up the exact year they stopped teaching it, but thirty-five and older was an approximation. Either way, we’re looking at someone familiar enough with cursive to use it comfortably in written communication. I don’t know a single person my age who writes in cursive, and I’m thirty-two.”
Dominique’s husky blue eyes took me in with a hint of admiration. “Like I said, you’re incredibly observant, Detective Haven.”
I wanted to say more, ask the personal questions I’d avoided earlier, but the tension broke when an attendant shouted. “We’re heading out, Doc. You following?”
“I’ll be right there.”
The paramedic took off down the trail.
