Speaking incoherently under his breath, I watched as he staggered back out of the house without another word. I loved my brother, but he had serious issues that didn’t go unnoticed.
“You do know your brother was drunk off his ass, right?” Stacy asked as she followed me out of the house. We were donewith scouting the houses on my list, and I needed to head back to the office and get some things done before the workday was over. It was a little after lunch, and I refused to work past closing today. “You may want to look into finding someone else to help with renovations.”
“Rowan and I will work together until we can’t.” I gave her a knowing look as I hit the locks to my truck. Right as I slid inside, my phone began to ring. Seeing that it was TJ, I declined the call as I got settled into my seat. “Just try to keep the slick talk to a minimum. The last thing I want to hear is you and him going back and forth. You both go too far.”
As I got ready to leave, my phone rang once again, but I allowed it to go to voicemail for a second time. I’d been ignoring TJ’s calls since he decided to walk out and leave me alone in that restaurant two nights ago. I didn’t want to make it seem as if I didn’t understand his passion for his work, but I refused to be placed on the back burner. It was one of the reasons our relationship lacked intimacy.
“Girl, fuck your wino-ass brother.” Stacy shifted in the passenger seat and turned toward me. “When he respects you and stops acting like you’re beneath him, then, and only then, will I treat him like a man and not a bitch. Speaking of bitch’s, what’s up with you and your so-calledman? You’ve yet to tell me about your date night.”
Glancing over at Stacy, I shook my head at her brashness. She was my best friend, my sister, but she was a bit much at times. I didn’t take offense to the things that came out of her mouth because I knew they were from a good place. Her delivery, however, was the worst.
“I didn’t speak on date night because it didn’t happen.” I shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal when deep down, I was still pissed about it. “We met at the restaurant, and he left shortly after for work. I haven’t spoken to him since.”
TJ and I have stayed up many nights talking about a life together and how things would be. We both wanted the house on the hill, with kids and dogs running all over the place. With each day that goes by, that dream does not seem like a reality.
“I don’t mean any harm when I say this…” I gave her a knowing look as I pulled into the drive-thru at Chick-fil-A because I knew she, in fact, meant harm. “That man does the absolute bare minimum when it comes to you, and for the life of me, I don’t know why you accept it. Canceling on date night at your house is one thing, but leaving you in a crowded restaurant? Nah. You out here acting like TJ is your only nigga or something.”
“Girl, he is.” I chuckled as I moved the car forward in line. “He said he had to work, sis. What am I supposed to do? Beg him to stay? I never have, and I never will. TJ knows that I’m at my wits’ end with him, and the ball is in his court to fix it.” I scoffed, over the exchange. Thankfully, someone was walking our way to take our orders. “Forget that. I want to talk about this house. So… I was thinking we paint the walls sage.”
Sighing heavily, she turned back in her seat and let the conversation about TJ die before we moved on to something else. I could only deal with one issue at a time, and right now, I wanted to deal with the remodeling of the house and not my sham of a relationship with my fiancé.
Ding!
The doors of the elevator opened, and I stepped off, entering the basement of Grove’s Memorial. Immediately, you could feel the eeriness of what took place down here. With each step taken, the motion lights clicked on and shone from above. It was a rainy Saturday, the gloominess of the evening setting the tone for how the night would be.
As the automatic doors opened, I entered what the fellas upstairs called the Ice Hotel. Cold, just like the name, I always welcomed the coolness against my skin. Many people found it unsettling, but I’ve found it helped me relax for the duties lying ahead. As I removed my hoodie and hung it on the coatrack,the fluorescent light seemed to beam around the lone body lying strategically in the middle of the otherwise empty room.
Pulling the sheet from the victim’s body, I looked him over as I became accustomed to his anatomy. Although I was at the crime scene, my superior is the one who spoke to the authorities as he did a visual examination of the victim. A young black male, Jamal Cummings, was found dead by his child’s mother in the middle of their living room floor from an apparent suicide.
Another day, another cold body for me to dissect.
“Are you ready?” Chief Examiner Massey asked as he entered the autopsy room. Glancing over my shoulder, I locked eyes with the older white man, who reminded me of a lot of Robin Williams, from his looks to his corny-ass jokes. “Death by suicide seems to be our quickest exam to conduct, so this should be open and shut. Let’s see what Mr. Cummings has to say to us today. Would you like to lead this one?”
“Are you sure you want that, old man?” I smirked as I geared up in the proper PPE. “You keep this up, and I’ll be taking your job.”
“Imagine that.” He scoffed, causing me to chuckle. The man was old as fuck with one foot in the grave, and the other on a banana peel. “I just want to ensure that if the time ever came, you’re capable.” He placed his rubber gloves on his hands with a loud pop. “Let’s begin, shall we?”
Attaching the small microphone to my smock, I placed the small recorder on the metal table beside me, pressed record, and commenced with the autopsy.
“The day is September twenty-second; the time is two twenty-two hundred pm. The deceased was located at Grove Heights Apartments, unit 2749, near the intersection of Holland’s Corner.” The time of death and lividity had been determined at the scene. As soon as the shooting took place, we were informed immediately, so rigor mortis had yet to set in.Glancing down at the young man, I began to take the proper photographs. He appeared to be in good health. His body was fit, his skin was healthy, and there were no signs of distress or struggle from the altercation.
“The deceased was found in the middle of his living room floor with an apparent chest wound. The weapon was found near the left side of his body.” I swabbed his fingers with a Q-tip for traces of gunshot residue. “I will now begin to examine and search for any abnormal markings of the flesh,” I spoke as I stared down at the lifeless body. Leaning forward, I placed my fingers under his chin, moving the guy’s head from side to side. “The deceased doesn’t have any visual markings on his head, face, or neck.” My eyes continued to roam his naked body, stopping at the small hole in his chest. “One gunshot wound to the chest, left side.” Turning him over slightly, I nodded before continuing, “There appears to be no exit wound.”
Putting him back on his back, I decided to go ahead and remove the bullet. Taking a pair of forceps, I gently entered the wound and removed the small metal piece. X-rays showed that there were no fragments from the bullets or bone, so the area around the bullet was clean. Analyzing it momentarily, I placed it in a glass jar so the forensics unit could run ballistics. Resuming my exam of the body, I was pleased that this appeared to be one of the easier autopsies. After taking samples from his mouth and teeth for dental identification and blood for toxin screening, I could feel my body come alive. There was always a certain rush I felt when it was time for me to perform these things.
This time was no different.
After ensuring all specimens were secure, it was now time to open him up and remove his organs. Taking a scalpel, I began making the Y incision, starting at the left side of his shoulder with a steady hand, slicing him down to his pubic bone. Afterrepeating the same on his right side, I used clamps to peel back the skin and hold it in place. After snapping more pictures, it was time to remove the heart.
Crack! Crack! Crack!
The sound of the rib shears cracking the bones was music to my ears. Even with the mask covering my nose and mouth, the smell of blood, as well as other bodily fluids, permeated the air.
“Ribs are now broken, giving me access to the breastplate.” I placed the shears on the table and grabbed the bone saw. It took several minutes to get to the heart and lungs. Once removed, they were placed in pans for weighing.
“Organs appear to be healthy with little to no abnormalities.” I placed them inside the pans so Dr. Massey could take the appropriate pictures. “The remainder of the autopsy can commence.”
It took us almost two hours, but all of the proper organ removal was complete. I sewed the deceased back up as Massey bagged and tagged all of the evidence and fluids for testing. Once done, I retagged him, rolling him back into the refrigerated compartment to await the arrival of the funeral home chosen by his family. Right on cue, the doors of the lab opened, and in walked Sheena, the forensic tech.
