DARKEST HOUR by Nike Chillemi(From Chapter one…)
A black coach resembling an ambulance drove into the lot. An older man in overalls pulled a collapsible gurney out of the back and raised its bed to hip level. Its chrome gleamed.
The night orderly and two nurses getting off the night shift stopped to watch.
The brown-haired man pointed to the gurney and his voice carried. "They finally allocated some funds my way. Makes transporting much easier. Oscar and I used to carry them on a stretcher. My back sure is grateful to the board of supervisors."
The detective laughed. "Don't you county guys have all the dough you want?"
"Who're you kidding?"
The gurney's wheels rumbled across the gravel parking lot. The older man pulled on the straps of his overalls."Hank, you ready to move the body?"
The stylish man nodded. "Let's do it." They lifted the body onto the gurney and the man in overalls covered Dr. McCloud with a white sheet. Blood seeped through and began spreading.
Lucinda gasped, took another step back, stumbled, but managed to keep her footing. She straightened her spine. She still had to go into that building and work a full day. She had a son to support.
The detective nodded toward the body. "By the size of the hole in his chest, I'd guess he was shot with a pistol, maybe at close range. I need to have the bullet as soon as you recover it."
"Then by all means, you'll be my guest at the autopsy."
"Gee, thanks." The detective shook his head.
The debonair man chuckled, turned, and approached Lucinda.
A tremor ran down her back. More questioning, and all she wanted to do was run and hide. She sniffled and wiped her nose with the side of her index finger.
He reached into his inside pocket and offered her a folded white handkerchief. "It's rough if you've never seen anything like this. I'm Hank Jansen, the medical examiner, by the way."
Lucinda's gaze followed the gurney to the black coach. "He was my boss."
"You work at the hospital for Dr. McCloud?"
"Yes. I... I'm his secretary... was, I mean. And Dr. Hinsey's too." She couldn't believe the doctor's life had ended this way.
Detective Daltry barked, "Hank, can I speak with you?"
"Excuse me." The medical examiner stepped away.
"Wait." Lucinda quickly refolded the handkerchief and handed it back to him. She didn't know this man. Wouldn't begin to know how to return the white cotton cloth. "Don't forget this."
"Take it with you. The day's not over. Things could still get rough." He smiled.
"No, I can't take your hankie."
"Listen, I'll pick it up the next time I'm at the hospital. You say you work for Dr. Hinsey?"
"Hank," the detective called, impatience sharp in his tone.
"Yes, Dr. Hinsey is the head of the maternity ward. I'll launder it and have it ready for you."
The medical examiner nodded and smiled. "It's a date. I mean, I'll stop by and pick it up." He turned and trotted toward the detective.
Lucinda slipped the handkerchief into her purse. She headed for the main entrance of the hospital, bent and picked up a fountain pen in the gravel lot.
She pivoted and advanced toward the two men.
The detective made a chopping gesture with his hand and raised his voice. "I'm not fooling, Hank. Don't go putting another notch in your belt. She's a witness."
"Can't a fellow do a simple act of kindness?"
"I'm warning you, stay away from her." The detective spun around and nearly collided with Lucinda.
Heat rushed to her face, and she couldn't meet either man's gaze. If the ground would only open and swallow her. She held the pen out to Detective Daltry. "Uh...I…I'm sorry. I think you dropped this."
See - you want more, don't you! Get the rest on Amazon or Barnes and Noble. Visit Nike on her blog to find out about future novels, and other fun crime writing stuff: Nike Chillemi~Crime Fictionista