now.”
“What now? Someone walk off with the dirt this time?”
“No.” I looked out the door again. “Someone added something fresh to the display. Richard Grolen.”
"Holy shit.” Drake hung up, so I did, too.
I grabbed a packet of graham crackers and headed outside. Moira was easily placated with a cracker, but when the sirens started, she wrinkled up her face again.
Unfastening her from the stroller, I hitched her onto my hip, and went over to see what Dinah Blakely was up to.
She paid no attention to me. Her face was set in lines of fierce concentration, despite the tears that leaked down her cheeks. She didn’t seem to hear the sirens growing steadily nearer. I stepped into the street when the ambulance turned the corner, waving them to the house.
Then Drake’s car horn blared behind me. I jumped out of the way, making Moira laugh.
Drake was talking on his cell phone. He got to Richard Grolen in a dead heat with the emergency medical technicians.
“This one’s mine,” he yelled, holstering the cell phone. “I’m getting my scene-of-crime team here now.”
“The hell he is,” said the lead EMT, a tall, muscular black man. “Move it, Drake.”
“Look, Smitty—"
“He’s still alive, asshole. Now get out of the way.”
Drake stepped back, nearly onto my foot. “He’s alive?” He turned to me. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“You hung up.” I watched the EMTs swarming around Richard. Smitty got rid of Dinah by the simple expedient of lifting her up and setting her aside. She perched on the curb, slumping now, all her purpose and determination drained away. “If it wasn’t for Dinah, he wouldn’t be. I can tell you that much.”
Dinah didn’t move when she heard her name. Drake narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t you tell me about it?” His voice was dangerously low. “I hate being the last to know anything.”
“He was under the tarp when she pulled it back. I’d just gotten back from walking Mick to preschool.” I shifted Moira to the other hip. She was entranced by the flashing lights on the ambulance. Probably she was being traumatized for life by these experiences—but at least she was alive. I hugged her warm little body closer. “He was lying there. A big chunk of concrete where his head should have been. I thought he was a goner."
“Is that the concrete?” Drake homed in on the fatal chunk. It had been pushed aside. Even as he looked, one of the EMTs stepped on it. Drake, howling a little, whipped off his shabby tweed jacket and dashed into the melee. He emerged with the concrete wrapped in his jacket. “It may be the only piece of evidence available, after these lummoxes get through trampling everything.” He sounded bitter.
“Why don’t you tell them to be more careful?”
“I don’t get in the way of people doing their job.” He watched intently, nevertheless, and at the first break in the action he left my side to question Smitty.
“I don’t know.” Smitty wiped his forehead on the back of a sleeve. “The man’s damaged, that’s for sure. Looks like no cervical injuries, just the blunt trauma. Crushed the back of his head in. But that wasn’t the worst thing. My bet is that in another few minutes, he’d have suffocated.” Smitty nodded toward Dinah, who stared blankly back at him. “You shouldn’t have moved him, miss. He might have had a neck injury that could lead to paralysis. But I have to say that if you hadn’t gotten his nose out of the dirt, he’d likely be dead.”
A little of the color came back into her face. She stood up. “I want to go with you. I want to stay with him.”
“You his wife? Sister? Daughter?”
Dinah didn’t have the presence of mind to lie. Smitty shook his head, watching while the techs loaded Richard into the ambulance. “Then you’re not authorized to ride along. You’d just be in the way while we’re stabilizing him, anyway.” He turned to Drake. “Sorry about your footprints, Sherlock. We had a
“What now? Someone walk off with the dirt this time?”
“No.” I looked out the door again. “Someone added something fresh to the display. Richard Grolen.”
"Holy shit.” Drake hung up, so I did, too.
I grabbed a packet of graham crackers and headed outside. Moira was easily placated with a cracker, but when the sirens started, she wrinkled up her face again.
Unfastening her from the stroller, I hitched her onto my hip, and went over to see what Dinah Blakely was up to.
She paid no attention to me. Her face was set in lines of fierce concentration, despite the tears that leaked down her cheeks. She didn’t seem to hear the sirens growing steadily nearer. I stepped into the street when the ambulance turned the corner, waving them to the house.
Then Drake’s car horn blared behind me. I jumped out of the way, making Moira laugh.
Drake was talking on his cell phone. He got to Richard Grolen in a dead heat with the emergency medical technicians.
“This one’s mine,” he yelled, holstering the cell phone. “I’m getting my scene-of-crime team here now.”
“The hell he is,” said the lead EMT, a tall, muscular black man. “Move it, Drake.”
“Look, Smitty—"
“He’s still alive, asshole. Now get out of the way.”
Drake stepped back, nearly onto my foot. “He’s alive?” He turned to me. “Why didn’t you say so?”
“You hung up.” I watched the EMTs swarming around Richard. Smitty got rid of Dinah by the simple expedient of lifting her up and setting her aside. She perched on the curb, slumping now, all her purpose and determination drained away. “If it wasn’t for Dinah, he wouldn’t be. I can tell you that much.”
Dinah didn’t move when she heard her name. Drake narrowed his eyes. “Why don’t you tell me about it?” His voice was dangerously low. “I hate being the last to know anything.”
“He was under the tarp when she pulled it back. I’d just gotten back from walking Mick to preschool.” I shifted Moira to the other hip. She was entranced by the flashing lights on the ambulance. Probably she was being traumatized for life by these experiences—but at least she was alive. I hugged her warm little body closer. “He was lying there. A big chunk of concrete where his head should have been. I thought he was a goner."
“Is that the concrete?” Drake homed in on the fatal chunk. It had been pushed aside. Even as he looked, one of the EMTs stepped on it. Drake, howling a little, whipped off his shabby tweed jacket and dashed into the melee. He emerged with the concrete wrapped in his jacket. “It may be the only piece of evidence available, after these lummoxes get through trampling everything.” He sounded bitter.
“Why don’t you tell them to be more careful?”
“I don’t get in the way of people doing their job.” He watched intently, nevertheless, and at the first break in the action he left my side to question Smitty.
“I don’t know.” Smitty wiped his forehead on the back of a sleeve. “The man’s damaged, that’s for sure. Looks like no cervical injuries, just the blunt trauma. Crushed the back of his head in. But that wasn’t the worst thing. My bet is that in another few minutes, he’d have suffocated.” Smitty nodded toward Dinah, who stared blankly back at him. “You shouldn’t have moved him, miss. He might have had a neck injury that could lead to paralysis. But I have to say that if you hadn’t gotten his nose out of the dirt, he’d likely be dead.”
A little of the color came back into her face. She stood up. “I want to go with you. I want to stay with him.”
“You his wife? Sister? Daughter?”
Dinah didn’t have the presence of mind to lie. Smitty shook his head, watching while the techs loaded Richard into the ambulance. “Then you’re not authorized to ride along. You’d just be in the way while we’re stabilizing him, anyway.” He turned to Drake. “Sorry about your footprints, Sherlock. We had a
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