Matter of Trust by Sydney Bauer

– and that the shower, the dousing of cologne, werethe results of his trying to rid himself of the sickening smell of the autopsy that had eaten into his skin.
    â€˜That’s a lot of foresight on your part, David,’ said McNally, his face stony before relaxing ever so slightly. ‘But that’s the trouble with us cops and lawyers,’ he added. ‘We look at everything like it’s an investigation waiting to happen. Am I right?’
    David went to answer – to say . . . he was not sure what. But Chris interrupted again.
    â€˜I know this is crazy,’ Chris began. ‘But I guess we wanted to rule it out so we can stop worrying.’ He shook his head. ‘We spent our teenage years looking out for each other, Detective, and I guess that’s a hard habit to break.’
    David winced again, and despite the fact that McNally’s attention was now back on Chris, David was certain the detective caught it, out of the corner of his eye.
    â€˜All right, then,’ said McNally at last. ‘Here’s the thing. I would love to put you two friends at ease. But I’m afraid there’s only one way to do that, and it isn’t going to be easy.’
    â€˜You want us to identify the body,’ said David, the sound of his voice foreign in the mix.
    McNally nodded, his eyes now drifting back to Chris. ‘But once again, I stress that this isn’t going to be pleasant. This poor woman was in the water for close to two weeks so . . . Then again, I hate to say it, but the timing on your friend does fit, so . . . you’d be doing me a favour if . . .’
    â€˜We want to do whatever we can to help,’ said Chris, the twitch in his left eye returning, just for a second. ‘So, let’s do it,’ he added, looking at David as if to say, ‘She was our friend, DC, it is the least we can do’. ‘Let’s do it now.’

18
    Boston, Massachusetts
    â€˜A penny for them . . .’ said Nora Kelly as she reached for the sugar. She and Sara were at Myrtle’s having a late afternoon tea, Lauren sound asleep in the buggy beside them.
    â€˜I’m sorry, Nora,’ said Sara after Mick had refilled her mug of coffee. ‘I know I’ve been a little distracted.’
    â€˜Is it this trip to Newark?’ the perceptive office assistant asked, knowing the answer before it was offered.
    Sara smiled and gave the woman she thought of as a mother the slightest of nods. ‘David said it was just an overnight stay so . . . Oh, Nora, tell me I’m being silly?’
    â€˜I would if you were, lass.’ Nora returned the smile as she stirred her tea. ‘I am sure David will be home lickety-split, but you wouldn’t be you if you weren’t a little concerned about his rushing off to help his friend like this.’
    Sara realised just how lucky she was to have this woman as a friend. ‘I’m not sure Newark is good for him,’ she said after a pause. ‘He wants the best for his friends and he loves his family, but you must have noticed how he avoids visits home.’
    Nora nodded. ‘So why do you think that is, lass? What makes going home so . . . uncomfortable?’
    Sara took a moment to think on this, her hands cupped around her steaming hot coffee. ‘I know this is going to sound strange, but I think a lot of it has to do with guilt.’
    â€˜Now I know guilt comes with the Irish Catholic territory,’ said Nora, ‘but what on earth does David have to feel guilty for?’
    â€˜For choosing to lead his own life – for leaving the one carved out for him.’
    Sara saw the look on Nora’s face – a need to understand and, more importantly, to help if she could. And so Sara started at what she thought was the beginning – or at least what she’d gleaned from the scraps a reluctant David had shared with her