A Cry in the Dark (Carly Moore #1) - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,68
with a sheet lay on top of it, the head to my right.
Hank released a strangled sound.
Dwight guided the chair into the room and parked it a few feet from the table. I stopped next to Hank and reached down to pick up his hand. He glanced up at me with vacant eyes and squeezed.
Dwight shuffled to the head of the table and started to uncover Seth’s head, but Hank blurted out, “Wait! I wanna be standin’ when I see him.”
My stomach was in knots. I really didn’t want to see Seth again, not like this, but Hank needed to see his grandson and he needed support. I sure didn’t want to leave him with Dwight.
“Dwight,” Mobley snapped. “Treat Mr. Chalmers with respect.”
Dwight looked pissed and he stepped to the other end of the table as though saying he wasn’t having any part of this.
I locked the wheels of the chair and squatted in front of Hank. “I’m gonna help you stand, then we’ll move up to the table.”
I regretted not bringing his crutches in with us, but I figured I could support him for a minute or so. When I’d helped lift him into the truck with the nurse less than an hour ago, I’d realized he didn’t weigh all that much.
He nodded, but he didn’t look happy about it. I could understand that. He wasn’t the kind of man who liked accepting help, although he was smart enough to know when he needed it.
“Mobley,” a woman called out from the hallway. “There’s a phone call for you.”
“It’s gonna have to wait, Verna,” Mobley said with an edge of irritation. “I’m busy.”
“It’s important,” she said, sounding nervous. “That client from before’s not very happy.”
The client was clearly someone important—more important than poor Seth Chalmers—because Mobley’s smile wavered, and he gave us a slight nod. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to take this.” And he hurried out the door.
I considered asking Dwight for help getting Hank out of the chair, but his foul expression suggested he wouldn’t be gentle. Giving Hank a soft smile, I said, “Okay. Let’s do this.”
It took some maneuvering, but I got him balanced on his remaining foot. He wrapped his right arm around my shoulder, and we took a couple of awkward steps toward the table. When we got close enough, Hank grabbed the table with his left hand to help him stay balanced.
Since Dwight didn’t seem inclined to help us any further, I slowly reached for the sheet and pulled it down to Seth’s collar bone, exposing his bruised and battered face. His left eye was swollen, and his lip had a cut. A deep bruise discolored his right cheek.
I felt lightheaded, but a guttural sound from Hank snapped me out of it. His knee buckled, and I shifted my position to brace his weight.
“Do you want to sit down?” I asked quietly, fighting the urge to cry.
He shook his head, opening his mouth to speak and then shutting it.
Dwight released a yawn.
I jerked my gaze to him, barely holding back my temper. “Can you show a little respect here?”
Dwight just leered at me.
Was Dwight just an asshole or had he played a part in Seth’s murder? Would he be so blatantly cavalier if he were involved? I studied his irritated demeanor. He struck me as the kind of guy who thought he could do whatever he wanted, damn the consequences.
Hank ignored him, his chin trembling as he stared down at the boy.
I hadn’t paid much attention to Seth’s features in the dimly lit parking lot, but I got a better look at him now. He had a sprinkling of freckles across his nose and cheeks, and even with the bruising and swelling I could see that he’d been an attractive boy. Had he left behind a grieving girlfriend? How were his best friends handling this? I couldn’t help thinking about the empty seat in his classes. On Monday, this boy had probably been at school, worried about homework and football games, and now he was dead on a stainless steel slab.
My resolve steeled—whoever did this had to pay.
Hank slid his arm from around my neck, so I tightened my hold around his waist to keep him upright. He reached for Seth’s cheek, cupping it slightly at an awkward angle.
“What did you do, boy?” Hank whispered, tears streaming down his face. One dropped onto the white sheet.