Drained (Edgars Family #6) - Suzanne Ferrell Page 0,36

Aaron’s way. His lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes spoke of the sadness he felt at delivering such horrible news. He didn’t like doing the job any more than she did, and this was her first time. As a detective, he’d done this with devastated families and friends more than once.

After a few minutes Paula’s tears slowed, she gulped in some air and released her hold on Brianna. She coughed hard and Brianna handed her some tissues to spit into.

“The therapist…said, getting this…crap out of…my lungs was…a good sign,” she said, wheezing more than she had been before crying.

Remembering the nurse last night had told Paula to stay hydrated to help break up the phlegm, Brianna handed her the big cup of water so she could drink. She patted Paula’s leg, while Stanley snuggled deeper into the younger woman’s lap, both trying to give her comfort. Aaron sat quietly. Brianna knew he wanted to question Paula about Art and the places she’d searched for him, but he was also giving her friend time to come to terms with what he’d already told her about Art’s death. She just prayed Paula didn’t ask him for details. No one should hear that about someone they loved.

Finally, Paula wiped her eyes, seemed to be breathing easier again and looked to Aaron. “How was he killed?”

Aaron didn’t blink. “We’re not sure yet. We have to wait for the coroner’s office to give us an official cause.”

Thank goodness that explanation seemed to be enough for her. She blinked back some fresh tears, but only nodded her head.

“I need to ask you some questions,” Aaron said, very professional policeman style.

“You think I killed him?” Paula said, sitting straighter in her bed, instantly defensive.

“Of course we don’t,” Brianna said, casting a glare Aaron’s direction.

“No, we don’t,” he said, his voice turning very soft and conciliatory. “That came out wrong. Please forgive me. What I meant was, can you give me information on Art? Like his last name?”

Apparently appeased by his apology, Paula relaxed back in the bed. She shook her head. “I only knew him as Art.”

“Okay. That’s not unusual for homeless people to not give their last names out. Some don’t even remember them.” Aaron propped his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. “What can you tell me about him? Anything about his family or his past?”

She twisted her lips a moment, reminding Brianna of Abby’s little niece, Elizabeth, when she was trying to think of how to remember something. “He told me once he had a wife and daughter, but he’d lost touch with them when he came back from the war.”

“Vietnam?” Aaron asked, which made sense given Art’s apparent age. If Brianna had to guess he was about seventy or so. Of course, being homeless on the street aged people quickly.

Paula nodded. “He said he was one…of the last group of soldiers to get drafted over in that war.” She paused. “He had two medals…from serving there. Showed them to me all the time.”

“We didn’t find any medals with Art,” Aaron said, not mentioning they’d found him decked out in military attire.

Paula’s eyes grew wide. “He always, always had those medals with him.”

“Okay, that helps. Maybe we can figure out which ones he earned.”

He pulled out his phone, tapped in some letters, then scrolled up and down. Finally, he turned the screen around to show a list of service medal pictures. The only one Brianna could identify was the purple heart. She’d seen it in movies and TV shows before.

“Do any of these look like the ones Art showed you?” Aaron asked.

Paula took the phone and scrolled down a few images before stopping.

“That was one,” she said, showing them one that was a ribbon with a silver star hanging from it.

“That’s the Silver Star,” Aaron said. “Means Art was a hero in the war. Any of the others look familiar?”

Paula pushed her finger up to look at the next image and stopped again. “This one.”

Brianna looked in to see what looked like a golden eagle with spread wings mounted on a large cross, hanging from a blue, white and red trimmed ribbon.

“The Distinguished Service Cross,” Aaron said, taking his phone back and looking impressed.

“Will that help…you find who did…this to Art?” Paula asked.

“I don’t know. But it may help us at least give him a last name. It will depend on how many soldiers in that group of draftees earned both of these. I’m imagining not too many.” Aaron leaned