In Case of Death (The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic Book 3) Read online

  “Yep…he was a bastard.”

  May giggled again at that.

  “And who helped me get through that old friend?”

  I nodded again, “Not that I’m keeping score or anything, but I think you have a much harder job than I do.”

  “You are right!” she said, raising her head off of my shoulder, “We are not keeping score!”

  Laying her head back on my shoulder, she sighed. “Maybe we should just get together again.”

  My heart skipped a beat.

  “Really?”

  She moved her head up to my cheek and gave me a kiss. “Sure…why not?”

  I couldn’t come up with an answer…not one I could verbalize anyway. We had been through it before, and ended up playing it safe to not jeopardize our friendship.

  “Same old reasons May…we care too much for each other. Besides, you are looking so hot lately; I couldn’t guarantee we would ever get out of bed.”

  May squealed!

  Wrapping her arms around my neck, she nuzzled my ear as she whispered, “Damn straight we wouldn’t!”

  I put my hand on her forearm gently, caressing the soft skin. “Hey, you did it again!”

  “Did what Gabe?” May cooed from my shoulder.

  “I forgot all about Raven, for a few seconds anyway. Now all I can think about is you!”

  We both laughed at that. I gently pushed my friend away and jumped down off of the wall before reaching up to help May down. Pulling her close, we kissed.

  A sweeter and gentler kiss I have never experienced, before or since.

  Taking her hand then, I started walking toward home.

  “Where are you taking me kind sir?” she asked as she hugged my arm.

  I sighed. “Back to reality I’m afraid.”

  Turning to face her, “Look, there is nothing on the whole of God’s green earth that I would rather do than to become a ‘couple’ with you. But you know it wouldn’t work May, what if we had problems? Who would we go to then?”

  Her shoulders slumped a little then as she took my hand and started walking again.

  “We would have each other Gabe.”

  “Except I have a lousy track record May, and I don’t want to lose you forever. And I think that could be a very real possibility considering who you are dealing with.”

  ***

  I woke up with a start, 5:30 showing plainly on the clock. Lying back on the pillow, I thought back to that night long ago with May.

  Another missed opportunity?

  That would almost seem to sum up the story of our lives.

  I was still at a loss to discern why I kept having the recurring dreams about my old friend, but as of late I had accepted the situation as something that I apparently had no control over.

  Be that as it may, I still found the constant reminders of our past life together to be confusing at the very least. Considering my past experiences with dreams, I realized that it may be some kind of bizarre play from above to get May and I together. But if someone was trying to point me into a relationship with her, why would they continually bring up our failures as a couple?

  Every single memory had served to reiterate the strength of our friendship, while simultaneously shoving my face in our failures at romance.

  Betty suddenly popped into my head.

  More to the point, I could imagine Betty grinning at me in that way that she did when I stressed over things that I had no control over.

  “It’s only life,” she would say before taking me in her arms. “It’s gonna happen, whether we worry about it or not.”

  Smiling, I proceeded to roll out of bed and head down to the kitchen to start the day.

  I love you, I whispered as I left the room.

  Back-a-cha buddy, I heard in my head as I made my way down the stairs lightheartedly.

  Realizing that I smelled coffee, I was surprised to find Abby and Nate at the kitchen table, still going over the details of the case.

  Abby had asked Nate over to the house for supper and to hand over the files instead of just copying them and handing them over in a box at his office. I had liked the idea. Since we were more or less forced into sharing our case, having Nate see where we were coming from seemed like a plus.

  Not that our way was the only way, but at least our thought process wouldn’t get trampled over immediately.

  “Morning,” I said as I passed them on the way to the coffee pot. “I know that it’s an involved case, but I never thought it would take this long to explain it to Nate,” I added good-naturedly.

  Abby giggled, looking at Nate with a grin.

  “Oh, we took a couple of hours off.”

  Nate snickered.

  “A really, really fun couple of hours,” Abby added unabashedly as she wrapped her arms around Nate and planted a kiss on his lips.

  I smiled before turning to pour my coffee, “I don’t need to hear about it.”

  I’m surprised he didn’t hear it, Abby whispered loudly amid more snickering by the couple.

  Shaking my head, I was nonetheless happy for my daughter. Whether or not their relationship went any farther in the future, it seemed that they had found in each other something very special for now. Maybe that was all that one could hope for?

  “Anyway,” changing the subject, “I don’t suppose you have discovered anything new during the night have you?”

  “As a matter of fact,” Abby beamed, “We have!”

  I turned to face her, “Really?”

  “Yep!” she said as she paged through some papers. “We just happened across this detail as we were going over the case last night. It may be nothing, but I can’t believe I didn’t think to look before!”

  My interest was certainly centered on Abby for the next few moments as she dug through her notes. Taking the seat beside her, she laid a single sheet of paper beside me.

  Global Printing & Binding

  Schenectady, NY

  “What’s this?” I asked, unsure of the relevance.

  “A printing company,” Abby said with a grin. “The printing company, the one that printed the leather-bound legal nightmare that now sits on the table in front of you!”

  Chapter 61

  September 25, 1999

  I looked up at the two leather-bound tomes sitting on the table, as well as the reams of paper scattered around them.

  Why hadn’t we thought of that earlier?

  “It is also the only entity that we know of that has had a recurring collaboration with whoever is at the bottom of the case,” Abby continued. “And, it may also be a place that has a record of their customer that will help track him.”

  Having screwed up or not, I smiled. This could be huge!

  “Great work!” I beamed.

  “Isn’t it awesome?” Abby replied. “And since we are now tied in with the Prosecutor, it will be easier to get access to their records!”

  Nate nodded excitedly, “That should be no problem, we can talk to Allen about it this morning!”

  Hopefully throwing the weight of Allen’s office behind the investigation would help our cause…at least in situations such as these. I had on my mind however, another detail I was anxious to investigate, one of a more covert nature.

  “That is right up his alley,” I admitted, “I was also thinking that he could put some people on getting sketches of our Mr. Jones, or whatever he calls himself. Get with Jessica Jordan for starters, but there should be people in every county around us that has had dealings with him.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Nate said excitedly, making a note on his legal pad.

  “What are you going to do today Gabe?” Abby questioned as she got up to refill their coffee.

  “I have a couple of things that I want to look at with Preacher,” I answered before cringing inwardly.

  “Who’s Preacher?” Nate asked me innocently as Abby overfilled one of the cups.

  “Oh crap,” she mumbled as she grabbed a rag to clean up her mess.


  Preacher was more or less…unofficial…in every facet of the investigation. Because of his circumstances, we as a group had decided to keep him out of the limelight. May and Raven knew him of course as we thought it important for them to get to know him. Letting his name out of the bag to Nate had been a major screw-up on my part.

  Maybe I’m getting too old and senile for this stuff!

  “Who’s Preacher?” Nate repeated with a stiff smile as the heavy silence continued.

  Abby turned suddenly, indicating to Nate with her hand to follow her as she left the room. Looking confused, he nevertheless followed her into the living loom while I sipped on my coffee.

  What? You can’t do that! I heard Nate exclaim eventually.

  This was followed by mumbling that I couldn’t make out, then Abby saying, Do you trust me?

  Another mumbled response.

  Do…You…Trust…Me?

  Silence followed for a long time. I was just getting up to get more coffee when they reentered the room, smiling.

  “We reached an understanding,” Abby said grinning.

  Nodding, Nate added, “I don’t need to know anything about that subject. Probably the less I know the better.”

  I nodded, refilling their coffee and setting it before them at the table.

  “So anyway,” I said noncommittally, “I’ll find something to do while you guys play with the grownups.”

  They both smiled at that as we threw around a couple of other ideas to pitch to Allen.

  I had talked a little to Preacher the day before. Even though we had both felt fine after the explosion, we both felt very stiff and stoved up yesterday.

  I guess Angels aren’t perfect!

  We had consequently decided to take the morning off and meet up at Lenny’s for breakfast.

  With what we had to do today, a little rest was probably a good thing.

  Chapter 62

  September 25, 1999

  Lenny’s was only moderately busy when I walked in the door, unusual for a weekday. Since they had started offering breakfast a few months before, the place was usually hopping in the morning.

  I spotted Preacher in the booth at the back of the restaurant and made my way there. He looked like he had been in a fight, with some purplish mottling showing in a couple of places on his face.

  Still…not bad for what we had been through!

  Apparently there was nothing wrong with his appetite however, the plate in front of him was piled high with bacon, eggs and toast. Catching the waitress’s eye, I pointed to his plate, indicating that I would have the same.

  “How you feeling?” I asked as I sat down across from him.

  “Like I was thrown into a tree at several hundred miles an hour,” he replied glibly before taking another bite of his food.

  “How about you?”

  “Bout the same,” I said before grimacing at a sudden muscle pain. “Glad to be alive though,” I added with a tight smile.

  “Amen to that!” Preacher answered back, placing a hand on his ever-present Bible while evaluating me over the rim of his coffee.

  “So, you mentioned something about some work today? What’s on your mind?”

  I remained quiet until the waitress had deposited my newly arrived plate of food and walked away before continuing.

  “I thought I would take you to meet a friend of mine, a doctor.”

  “No offence Gabe,” Preacher responded with a worried look, “but I’m fine, and I can really only go to certain doctors anyway.”

  I smiled, “The doctor’s not for you my friend.”

  Confusion swept across Preacher’s face momentarily before he reached down and forked up some more egg.

  “Ok, I’ll bite,” he said before popping the food into his mouth, “Whose doctor is it?”

  “Our hapless delivery van driver’s.” Taking a sip of coffee before continuing, “At least it’s his new doctor.”

  ***

  Entering the old city hospital’s basement, I was met with the smell of old coffee and formaldehyde. Officially the Coroner’s office, everyone that knew our current Coroner knew that his real office was at the Legion. In fact, since he had obtained a cell phone of late, he only frequented the official office when he had a new ‘patient’.

  Leading Preacher over to the coffee pot, I filled two mugs with the acidic brew and handed one of them to him.

  “Son-of-a bitch! Elvis is alive!”

  I smiled at the declaration, turning to find my old friend leaning out of the morgue through the double swinging doors.

  “Hey Doc! This here’s Preacher…Preacher, meet Doc Elliot, our esteemed Coroner.”

  Pushing himself the rest of the way through the doors, Doc nudged his glasses up so that they rested on his forehead above his bushy white eyebrows.

  “Preacher eh?” he said as he looked him over top to bottom, “Interesting handle you got there.”

  Holding up his bible, “The Good Book guides many things in my life Doc, not the least of which being my nickname.”

  “Preacher has been helping us on a case Doc, but his circumstances are rather…secretive, if you catch my drift.”

  Doc Elliot gave Preacher another good looking over, his stern face breaking into a grin as he held out his hand in greeting.

  “We all got secrets,” he said, pulling Preacher close and then whispering loudly, “Makes things a helluva lot more interesting!”

  I smiled. Doc Elliot had been a doctor in these parts for as long as anyone could remember. Most of the people alive around here over the age of ten had been brought into this world with him standing there and catching them when they came out…including myself.

  “We were interested in anything you might have found on the man caught in the explosion the other day Doc, especially anything you may have found that is …unusual?”

  “I was just going over what was left of the body again,” he responded while turning and heading back into the Morgue. “Come on back, although you may wanna grab a mask before you come in…he’s getting mighty ripe.”

  Finding the box of masks, I handed one to Preacher before fitting one over my mouth and nose. Entering through the swinging doors, we were met by what looked like a pile of meat and bones.

  “Yech,” I reacted to the sight on the table, “Can you get anything useful out of that?”

  “Not much as far as your standard stuff, I was able to get fingerprints off of what was left of two fingers, and I sent in the DNA of course.”

  “Anything in the nonstandard realm you can let us in on?” I asked, still staring queasily at the pile on the table.

  “Entamoeba Histolytica,” he stated like he was ordering a hamburger.

  “Enta what?” I asked in confusion?

  “It’s a parasite,” Doc said as he opened a file lying next to the body, “Usually get something like that from overseas travel. This guy was riddled with it, lesions on the intestinal wall, a liver abscess caused by it, and it had gotten into his lungs and brain. He had to be in some sort of pain, and would have probably died from it in the near future. It’s a shame really; it’s very treatable with modern drugs.”

  Overseas travel confirmed to me that this was most likely the assassin hired to do the killing.

  “Seems likely to me,” Preacher chimed in, “That if he was hiding his identity, he may not have had access to normal doctoring.”

  “And any he may have had access to probably wouldn’t have access to drugs for an exotic disease,” I added.

  I mulled this around in my head for a few moments before I saw a look I recognized on Doc.

  “You’ve got something else, don’t you,” I smiled, “What else do you know great swami?”

  “Not anything that a regular cop would be interested in, but then… you never been much about being regular.”

  I smiled at my friend’s assessment, knowing he was right and also knowing that was one of the things he liked about me.

  “What have you found?” I
asked excitedly.

  “This guy was hairless.”

  “Hairless?” I asked, “You mean like a genetic problem.”

  “Nope!” Doc grinned, “Shaved, lasered, or with the help of chemicals…this man removed every follicle of hair on his body. Probably took a lot of time and/or money to keep it that way.”

  “Ok,” I mumbled as I gave that fact some thought. “Why would this guy do something like that?”

  “I can think of a few reasons,” Doc lectured. “I found the trace of a substance on his head for instance. Sent it over to the lab yesterday, and Percy sent back the analysis this morning. It turns out to be type of glue that is used almost exclusively for wigs.”

  “That makes sense,” Preacher joined in the discussion then. “If he was an assassin, he could create many looks from the use of wigs, maybe even looking like a woman at times.”

  That made sense, and also lent validity to the confused description that Abby had given of her attacker. She initially thought that a woman was attacking her, until she hurt him and heard his howls of pain.

  “Yes,” I answered thoughtfully, “But that wouldn’t necessarily be a valid reason to shave everything. That fact may point to a completely different reason.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Doc piped in then, grinning through his bushy white mustache. “Actions such as those of our unnamed friend here often point to an unusual sexual proclivity or two.”

  “Humph,” Preacher uttered, reminding me for a second of Frank. “That’s probably not going to get us anywhere.”

  “Don’t give up on the idea too quickly,” I said to Preacher, a grin spreading across my face.

  “I may know someone that could help us in that department.”

  Chapter 63

  September 25, 1999

  Driving down Arch Street later that day, I took in the surrounding neighborhood. Some of the more conservative people in town would probably be shocked at what goes on down here on a Friday night.