“Figure that one out,” Glock says.
“We have no way of knowing if it was a freak accident, if he fell into the pen and was killed by the animals or if someone pushed him,” I tell them. “But even if it was an accident, from all indications, it looks like someone made an effort to conceal the remains.”
“So it’s not unreasonable to believe someone has something to hide,” Rasmussen says.
Tomasetti looks at me. “As usual, Kate’s been poking the bees’ nest with a short stick.”
I frown at him.
“Clarence Underwood was recently released from prison,” Glock adds. “Former meth head.”
“See if he has an alibi,” I tell him.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Tomasetti levels his gaze on me. “Might be a good idea for you to take a few days off.”
“Probably not a bad idea,” Rasmussen agrees.
Glock is smart enough to keep his mouth shut.
I sit up straighter, annoyed that they’re ganging up on me. “I can’t put this John Doe thing on hold—”
“Chief Burkholder?”
I look past my counterparts, relieved to see the ER doc approach. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“As long as you’re here to spring me,” I grumble.
“In about two minutes.” He looks at the men. “I need to have a word with the chief, if you’re finished.”
“I think we’ve annoyed her enough.” Grinning, Rasmussen offers his hand, and we shake. “Glad you’re okay, Chief. Let me know if you need anything or if you think of something else that might help us figure out who did this.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“Same goes, Chief.” Glock gives me a small salute and heads for the door.
The doc and I look at Tomasetti. For an instant, he looks uncertain, as if he isn’t sure if he should stay or go. When the moment gets awkward, the doc tosses me a questioning look.
I address the doc. “It’s okay, Doc. We’re … together.”
“Oh. I see. All right then.” He saunters to my bed and glances down at the clipboard. “We got the results back on your tests,” he tells me. “CAT scan looks good. Blood work is within normal ranges.” He grins at me. “I also had the lab run a qualitative hCG test. It’s routine in case we need to do X-rays. You know you’re pregnant, right?”
“I do now.”
He grins stupidly at Tomasetti, who’s standing beside him looking shell-shocked. “Congratulations. To both of you.”
I mutter a thank-you. But my mind is reeling. I’d been harboring the hope that the pregnancy test was a fluke. That this whole thing was a blip in the radar and everything would get back to normal in a day or two.
“Any idea how far along?” I manage.
“You’ll need to see your ob/gyn for that.”
He’s still speaking, but at some point I stopped hearing the words. I can’t stop looking at Tomasetti, who’s looking everywhere except at me.
CHAPTER 16
I’m certain I set my alarm clock for my usual 5:30 A.M. I’m just as certain that at some point after I fell asleep, Tomasetti turned it off. When I awoke in a panic at a little after eight, I wasn’t sure whether to be pissed or pleased. He persuaded me to go with the latter, because I walked into the kitchen to find an omelet, toast, and juice waiting for me.
We didn’t talk about my pregnancy last night. Instead, and in usual Tomasetti fashion, he grilled me about my personal safety and possible suspects. For once, I was happy to oblige. I’m not sure what it says about us as a couple that it’s easier to talk about my near-death experience than the fact that I’m going to have a baby.
Over breakfast, he informed me that Rasmussen called earlier with news that Paula and Nick Kester, as well as her father, have alibis for the time of the shooting. Of course, that doesn’t mean they didn’t hire someone. They’re not the hiring types, but it’s not outside the realm of possibility that any one of them could have traded drugs for a favor. Tomasetti also confirmed that because of our personal relationship, he won’t be assigned the case. But he reiterated that he will have access to information and will be able to expedite things that might otherwise take a while.
I didn’t feel all that banged up last night; I didn’t think I hit the tree that hard, but then adrenaline and anger can be effective analgesics. This morning, a headache the size of a T. rex rages between my eyes. Every muscle in my body feels as if it’s been twisted into a knot. I down a couple of Tylenols with breakfast. A hot shower, and I’m feeling almost human.