If I Should Die_ A Novel of Suspense - Allison Brennan [21]
I’m sorry, Abigail. I tried my best.
EIGHT
Even though she didn’t believe he’d take her up on her suggestion, Lucy still tried to talk Sean out of going with her to the mine Thursday morning so he could rest. He drove her to the site in the rental SUV he’d picked up at the airport, parking behind three official vehicles.
“I suppose you won’t wait in the car,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Give it up, Luce.”
She grumbled, but opened the passenger door. Why was she surprised? None of her four brothers would have been waylaid by a two-story fall or a dozen stitches.
She walked—Sean limped—to where a sheriff’s deputy and rescue worker stood at the edge of the mine shaft watching their approach. Apprehension rose in her chest as they neared the open pit.
“Hello,” Sean called out, raising his hand in a friendly wave.
“Lost?” the deputy asked.
“Not at all,” Sean said. “I was the lucky guy to fall down there yesterday.”
The cop didn’t smile. “You’re lucky you didn’t break your neck.”
Lucy’s stomach flipped. Was her inability to rid her mind of Sean’s fall a sign of post-traumatic stress? She couldn’t control her body’s reactions, and that was unlike her.
“That’s what I said, I’m a lucky guy.” All humor was gone from his tone. “Sean Rogan. Lucy Kincaid. Lucy found the body.”
He didn’t say anything about their backgrounds. If people knew he was a P.I. and she was an FBI recruit, it would be harder to quietly gather information.
“Deputy Weddle. This is Al Getty, Fire and Rescue. You’re staying at the Hendrickson place?”
Sean nodded. “Is the coroner down there?”
“Just lowered their equipment.”
“I’d like to join them,” Lucy said. “I found the body and can show them where she is.”
At first Weddle looked as though he would argue. Then he said into his radio, “Ham, you there? Over.”
“What do you need? Over.”
“The little lady who found the body wants to join you. Over.”
There was a long pause. Weddle didn’t take his eyes off her. Was he laughing internally, or suspicious?
“Shaffer says send her down. Over.”
Weddle said to Lucy, “You heard him.”
“Are you sure you want to do this, Luce?” Sean quietly asked.
“She’s been on my mind—I want to make sure I saw what I did.”
“Excuse me?” Weddle said. “You want to make sure you saw what?”
“The way she was posed.”
“Posed,” he said flatly. When she’d first approached, Weddle’s casual posture had led her not to consider him much of a cop, but now his eyes assessed her with a suspicious glint.
“She was flat on her back, arms crossed over her chest. It didn’t seem …,” she searched for the words, “… a natural way to die.” She zipped up her jacket, remembering how cold it had been in the mine yesterday.
“Boss?” Getty said.
“Strap her to the chair.”
Getty buckled Lucy into a rescue seat with a full five-point harness secured around her thighs and over her shoulders.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded, holding Sean’s blue eyes as she was lowered down.
I love you, he mouthed.
“She’s going to be okay down there?” Weddle asked Sean.
“Yes,” Lucy heard as Sean and the cop disappeared from her view.
Down below, Ken Hammond, the Fire and Rescue supervisor, introduced himself and the deputy coroner, Frank Shaffer, as he unhooked her.
The smell of decomposition Lucy had identified yesterday seemed to have dissipated, but she figured it was because of the severe overnight temperature drop. She made a mental note to check the high and low temps over the last few weeks, though she didn’t know why she’d need to do it—the coroner would handle the death investigation. Shaffer motioned for her to lead the way.
“I marked the walls with a stick,” she said, shining her light on the tunnel walls. Her faint scratches were still there.
Hammond said, “Smart move. These mines have some odd tunnels. I’ve been down here before with the Army Corp of Engineers to assess damages after cave-ins. Even the maps they have aren’t completely accurate. I don’t know if anyone knows these caverns anymore.