In Sickness and in Death - By Lisa Bork Page 0,12

the road with his head between his knees. A paramedic knelt in the grass next to him, talking to him.

Another sheriff’s deputy and a state police officer stood in the road with what looked to be the driver of the other vehicle, a Volvo station wagon. His arms waved as he spoke to the officers.

Erica and I avoided them and approached Danny.

Ray got to him first.

“Danny!”

He looked up and quivered. I couldn’t blame him. Ray’s nostrils were flaring, his neck flushed.

“Where did you get this car, Danny?”

“It’s my dad’s.”

“Bullshit.”

So much for the no swearing rule.

Danny jumped to his feet. “It is.”

“Danny, it was parked in the psych center lot, next to Jolene’s car. Why would your dad leave his car there?”

“I dunno, but he did. These are his keys.” Danny pulled them from his pocket and dangled them in front of Ray.

Ray snatched them from his hand. I could see the initial P on the key chain. So could Ray. The flush on his neck started to fade. He marched over to the Camry.

We all chased after him.

He tried the ignition. It turned over.

Ray shut it down and opened the glove box. It was empty.

He checked the back seat, under the front seats and the floor mats, and in the seat pockets. All empty.

Ray walked around to the trunk and opened the lid.

A Styrofoam ice chest sat in the middle of the space. Ray glanced at Danny, who shrugged.

Ray lifted the lid off the chest. A cloud of dry ice rose. It cleared.

We all leaned in.

Erica screamed. She darted onto the sidewalk and gulped fresh air.

I tried to swallow the bile that had washed up my throat and onto my tongue.

Danny took a step back, biting his lip, his body trembling. “My bad. It’s not my dad’s car. I found the keys in the ignition. Honest.”

Ray’s eyes reduced to slits.

“Go stand on the sidewalk next to Erica, Danny. Don’t say another word.”

The other two officers had joined Ray and me behind the car. One of them leaned into the trunk and whipped his head out in the blink of an eye. “What the f—”

What was not in question. It was more who.

A woman’s forearm sat in the middle of the ice chest, red fingernails embedded with tiny sparkling rhinestones, the index finger sporting a gigantic ruby ring to match, and the wrist, gold bangles, one studded with rubies. It would have been an attractive limb, but for the naked sinew, dried blood, and raw flesh right about where the elbow should have been. That was the image that kept the bile high in my throat.

That, and the thought that somewhere a woman was missing an arm, and I imagined, most likely her life.

Ray kept Danny with him and sent Erica and me packing. When I saw fear in Danny’s eyes, I protested. A bolt of lightning flashed from Ray’s eyes into mine. Raising my hands in defeat, I relinquished all custody of the child, giving Danny a light squeeze on the shoulder in support.

As I drove Erica back to The Cat’s Meow to collect her car, I hoped that Ray would bring Danny home tonight. Juvenile detention wouldn’t do anything to solve his problems, and I didn’t like to picture him alone there with all the big bad boys.

Erica and I pulled into the parking lot at The Cat’s Meow around three o’clock, after stopping at the drugstore to fill Erica’s prescription and have her swallow the first dose.

The strip club had opened at noon. About a dozen cars were in the lot. Erica’s black Porsche 944 sat alone, looking forlorn, at the far edge of the lot next to a corn field that still needed to be plowed under. I felt a little forlorn myself, since the Porsche used to be mine. I’d given it to her when I had to buy a four-door Lexus to accommodate Noelle’s car seat. Seeing the Porsche now made me mourn her as well as my father. He’d bought the Porsche from an insurance company after it bounced off two trees and a Winnebago. He completed the restoration work himself. The car had been my high school graduation present. Every time Erica ground the gears, I cringed. I’m sure my dad did, too.

Erica slid behind the wheel and backed out. As I followed her out of the parking lot, a woman with fiery red hair stormed out of the strip club and wedged her considerable bulk into a yellow Mustang convertible. Her lips

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