Hour Game

"So, any luck with Mom?"

"When your mother doesn't want to do something, you might as well try moving a mountain. But we'll keep trying. What is it?"

Eddie had turned to her with a broad smile. "Okay, close your eyes."

"What?"

"Just close your eyes."

Michelle hesitated and then did as he asked.

"Okay, now open them."

When she did, she was staring at herself, at least a version of herself on the canvas, wearing the ball gown from the reenactment. Michelle approached the canvas and studied it closely before turning to Eddie in amazement.

"That's why I wanted the Polaroid of you," he explained.

"It's beautiful. How did you do it so fast?"

"Worked on it all night. With the proper motivation a person can accomplish anything. But it doesn't do you justice, Michelle, it really doesn't." He wrapped it up with brown paper and masking tape. "You can take it with you."

"But why did you paint me?"

"You spent all day watching me play soldier, it was the least I could do."

"I enjoyed watching; it wasn't a burden."

"I still appreciate it."

She touched the wrapped painting. "And I appreciate this."

She gave him a hug and was surprised at how tightly he squeezed her; how strong he was. And she squeezed back. For one long moment their bodies were compressed together. He smelled of paint and sweat and something else, something intensely male. Her hands lightly traced the hard muscles of his back and shoulders. She didn't want to let go, but she finally drew back from him, her gaze downcast.

He cupped his hand under her chin and raised it. "Look, I know this is probably getting a little awkward for you. I'm not throwing myself at you. You're not going to wake up tomorrow and find a new car in your driveway. But-"

"Eddie-," she began, but he held up his hand.

"But it's just nice to have a friend is what I'm saying."

"I'd think you'd have lots of those, both men and women."

"I'm more of a loner really. I paint and I fight in pretend battles."

"And you do them both extremely well," she said.

"Yes, you do," said another voice.

They looked over as King came walking in.

"Hey, Eddie," he said.

The men shook hands while Michelle looked on self-consciously.

King glanced around at the art on the walls. "You've really got a tremendous eye."

"You sure my mother didn't pay you to say that?"

King looked at the wall of Civil War memorabilia. "An interesting collection."

"One of my few hobbies." He gri

King glanced at Michelle and smiled. "The day you see that is the day the sky falls and kills us all," he said, paraphrasing Michelle's response to Lulu's pole-dancing offer.

Eddie was about to say something when King's cell phone rang. He answered it, listened and then clicked off, his features very troubled.

"That was Sylvia. Kyle Montgomery's been found dead."

"What!" exclaimed Michelle.

"Who's Kyle Montgomery?" asked Eddie, bewildered.

"Sylvia Diaz's assistant," answered Michelle. "Was he murdered?"

"Sylvia's not sure. She said it looks right now like a drug overdose, but she's not convinced. She wants us to meet her at Kyle's apartment. Todd's there too."

The two hustled out. Michelle called back over her shoulder, "Eddie, I'll give you a call. Thanks."

As they exited the building, Eddie looked at the wrapped portrait. "But you forgot your paint-" They were already out of earshot. He shrugged in disappointment and carried the painting upstairs.

CHAPTER 59

THE FORENSICS TEAM HAD FINISHED by the time they reached Kyle's apartment. He was still on the bed, his lifeless eyes fixed on the ceiling of the small, dank apartment.

Sylvia was looking down at him when King touched her on the shoulder. She turned, and there were tears in her eyes. She dabbed at them with her hand and straightened up, assuming a more professional appearance.

"It's okay, Sylvia," said King. "You two weren't best friends but I know it still hurts."

She blew her nose into a tissue and nodded at the techs standing by. "You can take him."

They placed Kyle in a body bag and carried it out.

Todd Williams came over to join them.

Michelle said, "So it was a drug overdose? We're not looking at another serial killing?"

The chief shook his head. "No watch and no dog collar thing going on."

King was staring at Sylvia. "But on the phone you said you weren't sure it was a drug overdose."

"Certainly, we found indications that it was," she said slowly.

Williams added, "A syringe, rubber tourniquet and a needle mark on his forearm."

Sylvia said, "We need to run tests on any residue in the syringe to see what it was. That'll take a few days. And I'll run toxicology on the body fluids, but we won't know the results of those for at least two weeks."

"You can't tell from the autopsy what was shot into him?" asked Williams.

"Yes and no. If it was heroin, for example, which is a respiratory depressant, there might be some slight heaviness or congestion in the lungs and a foamy mucus in the airway, but it would be far from conclusive. The fact is, if he died of an overdose, the autopsy alone won't reveal what it was for certain. We have to rely on the toxicology results for that. If it was cocaine, the tox report will pick that up. If it was heroin, 6-monoacetylmorphine, a metabolite of heroin, will be found in the body. That's pretty conclusive proof of a heroin overdose."

"Maybe it was a drug from your office."

"Possible, but if the screens find 6-monoacetylmorphine in Kyle's blood or urine and don't find the presence of aspirin or Tylenol, that will be proof enough that it's not a prescription opiate narcotic in his system."

"Tylenol or aspirin?" asked Williams.

"Yes, because prescription opiates are frequently combined with those medications. That's not the case with heroin or cocaine or other street drugs."

"Who found him?" asked Michelle.

"I did," said Williams. "After you called me this morning, I decided to handle it myself. I came here with a deputy. We knocked. There was no answer. His Jeep was parked in front, so we figured he was here. We called his apartment and his cell phone, but there was no answer. We didn't have a warrant to go in, but it was suspicious enough that I went to the super's office and got them to open it. That's when we found him."

"The core body temp and degree of rigor mortis suggest he's been dead less than twelve hours," opined Sylvia.

King checked his watch. "So sometime after midnight or so?"

"Yes."

"And no one saw anyone enter or leave the apartment?" asked King.

"We're still checking on that," said Williams.

"Okay, we need to find this mystery woman at the Aphrodisiac pronto," said King.

"I'm heading over there today," said Williams.

"We'd like to go with you, Todd," said King. "Can you hold off for a couple of hours and meet us there? We'll call you."

"I guess that won't hurt."

"When are you going to do the post, Sylvia?" asked Michelle.

"Right away. I've canceled my patients for the day."

"Now that Kyle is dead, can't you get someone to help you?" said King. "They can send someone from Richmond or Roanoke."

"But on such short notice it won't be right away," said Sylvia.

"But if he did die of an overdose, it won't matter. You said you won't have confirmation for a couple of weeks," said Williams.

"But there might be other evidence that's slowly disappearing as we speak," said Sylvia sharply. "The body speaks to us after death, Todd, but the longer you wait, the softer the voice becomes."