15.
CASSIE
The day after the funeral, Cassie was more than in need of a distraction. The night before she’d gone as far as to put headphones in to avoid the awkwardness and the tension hanging between them. Every time she walked past him in their agonizingly small room she’d be tempted to touch him, even slightly. She wanted to climb into his bed when she was trying to sleep and be held by him.
She over thought everything that came out of her mouth, worried it would be crossing a line or would somehow make things even worse than they already were.
It was unbearable.
Thankfully, she had an excuse to leave the claustrophobic room and go out into public. In public, they would be back in professional mode, and she was sure the awkwardness would at least fade.
She woke up early the next morning, three hours before the conference was due to start, and hurried to put on make-up and her pantsuit. She threw her hair up in a ponytail rather than curling it.
Vikram spent that time eating his breakfast, which was about three times the size of hers. He was definitely taking advantage of the free room service. He didn’t say anything, but she could feel his gaze. He had the conference timetable. He knew she was up to something.
“I’m going down to the morgue before the conference starts,” she informed him when she was ready. She didn’t want to deal with his protests for too long. “I want to go and see what they’ll tell me about the assassin’s body. What they’ve found out about him.”
“They’re not going to tell you anything.”
“I didn’t think they were going to show me Archie’s body, either, but I got that. I may as well try.”
He frowned, but didn’t argue. She knew it was because he was just grateful she hadn’t said she planned to bust into the Tevisian’s quarters and steal as much incriminating evidence as she could. This was relatively tame.
She knew the way down to the morgue on her own this time, and it was the same guard who stood at the door. He didn’t look too surprised to see her. “What can I do for you?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and giving a wary glance to Vikram, who stood close behind her.
“I’d like to speak to the pathologist.”
“About?”
“It’s a private matter.”
The guard laughed. “I don’t think you can really claim doctor-patient confidentiality here. Everyone he deals with is dead.”
“It’s about Archie’s body, I just— I just wanted to ask him some things, for my own piece of mind. I won’t be long, I promise. He can tell me to piss off when I get in there, if he wants.”
The guard sighed, but he bought her puppy-dog eyes and her slumped, depressed shoulders. “Fine. But just a few minutes, he’s a busy man.”
“Too busy, lately,” she muttered, following the guard into the morgue.
“Dr. Lasky,” the guard called. “You have a visitor.”
One of the heavy metal doors opened, and the doctor stuck his head around. He was a short, hairy man. He wore an apron and mask over his mouth and nose. Cassie couldn’t place his race.
He recognized her. “Here about your friend?” he asked. “I understand the police are being cagey about the details. Just give me a moment.”
He reappeared without the apron or mask, and shook her hand. “Let’s go to my office.”
They piled into his office and the doctor grabbed a file from a box on a shelf beside the door before sitting down behind his desk, and gesturing for her to take a seat. She hesitated before complying. “Thank you.”
He handed her the notes. “These were my findings. There was nothing abnormal, but I understand the need for closure.”
It wasn’t what she was there for, but she couldn’t resist the temptation of opening the file and reading. The notes weren’t long, and confirmed what she’d already known. A fatal wound to the neck. There was no mention of the wound in his wrist that she’d caused removing the memory card, and it made her suspicious of the pathologist. He was being manipulated by someone, at least a little bit.
Images of Archie’s death flashed in her mind, and she shut the file hastily. “Thank you, doctor. That means a lot. This is not what I’m here for, though. I was hoping you could give me some information on the man that killed Archie.”
The doctor’s face fell. “I’m afraid that might be more difficult. It’s still an ongoing investigation, so I haven’t been given permission to release any details about that man’s death, yet.”
“Did you have permission to give me details about Archie’s death?”
“It’s different. I believe you have the right to know about your friend.”
She wondered how experienced this pathologist was—he was older, but there couldn’t be that many deaths aboard the IU’s space station. Normally bodies were stored at this morgue as evidence pending trials at the courthouse on the station, and there wasn’t a need for an in-house pathologist. He must have been flown in. Perhaps he could be persuaded to break procedure further, though. He’d already got his foot in the door by letting her see Archie’s file, and he’d not reported the wrist wound. “I don’t need to see the file, I just want to know a couple of things.” She clasped her hands together on the desk, and her desperation wasn’t faked. “Just a couple of things. No one will know you told me. It’s just for my peace of mind.”
The doctor folded his arms, and he could clearly see straight through her. “I can tell you that he died due to fatal gunshot wounds.”
“I already know that. I was there.”
“I know. So, what is it that you want to know?”
“His identity. Do you have it?”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Why? He’s dead. There’s nothing I can do with it.”
“Then why do you need to know it?”
“For peace of mind. I want to know who killed my friend.”
“That isn’t the expression of someone who just needs to know. That’s the expression of someone who is still looking for someone to blame, even though the person to blame is laying dead on the slab.”
She scowled. “I just want to know who killed Archie. I just want to know why and I can’t know that until I know who. Is that really so hard to believe?”
“I could lose my job if I told you that information.”
“You could lose your job if anyone knew that I saw that file.”
“Are you threatening me?”
She ran her hands against her hair until they reached her ponytail. “No. Of course not. For fuck’s sake.” She shook her head. “Definitely not. I just want to know what happened and why.” So she might want to get revenge on them, but that involved putting them behind bars, not enforcing vigilante justice. She wanted evidence to give to the police that was indisputable, because they sure as hell didn’t seem to be doing anything about solving the case.
The doctor held his hands up. “I am sorry,” he said. “But there’s nothing I can do. My job is on the line.”
As much as she hated it, she liked the doctor from what she’d seen, and she was forced to nod her head. She’d have to just trust her gut: she’d seen the lilac eyes. Of course, the Tevisians weren’t the only race that had those purple irises, but it was a coincidence she wasn’t about to overlook. “I understand,” she said. “I’m sorry for losing my temper with you.”
The doctor stood up and held out his hand to shake. “I understand. Truly. But my hands are tied.”
“Thank you for your time.”
She left trying not to feel too dejected. She shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up that it would work. She nodded to the guard in thanks, and waited until they were out of his earshot before saying, “That sucks.”
Vikram didn’t say anything, and when she turned to him, he was smiling.
She scowled. “You don’t have to look so pleased that my plan failed.”
“He was Tevisian. The assassin. His name was Adre Hejaz.”
She stopped, glancing around to make sure they were alone in the basement corridors, before standing closer to him, and asking under her breath, “How do you know that?”
“I looked at the files while you were talking to him. They were in a box beside me.”
She grinned, couldn’t resist giving him a quick squeeze, and pulled back before it got awkward. “You’re the best.”
He grinned like a little boy, a dimple showing, and she could only stare for a moment, drinking it in. “Glad to be of service.”
She handed him her phone. “Just type it in there as it was spelled on the file, could you? I’m not going to be able to look into it before the conference starts.” She groaned in frustration. “There’s so little time to get everything done.”
His hand hovered in the air between them, but he didn’t touch her. “You’ll get it done,” he said instead, checking his watch. “We should get going.”
They were still too early to go up to the conference room, but she followed his cue anyway. It wasn’t worth ruining the not-too-awkward atmosphere they had going right now.
She wished more than anything that it could just be natural between them. Just a day of seeing how it would be without all the pressures of the situation interrupting things.
Just them, as they would be if they’d happened to meet at a bar one time instead of at this stupid conference, under such shitty circumstances.