The Reluctant Coroner - Paul Austin Ardoin (most romantic novels txt) 📗

the eyes. “You know, don’t you, Fenway?” she asked. “You know, and you’re not telling me.”

Fenway hesitated and looked down. “You’ve been through a lot this week.”

“You need to tell me.”

Fenway looked into Rachel’s pleading eyes. “It’s McVie’s wife.”

Rachel drew her breath in sharply. “Amy?”

Fenway nodded.

“Oh.” She folded her hands over her heart and tightly shut her eyes. “Ouch. Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” Fenway said to Rachel, but she had one eye on the front of the sanctuary. The couple was getting more agitated, and the reverend looked stressed.

“Dylan and I went over to their house for New Year’s. Amy served me hors d’oeuvres. I had too much champagne.”

“Dylan really wasn’t sleeping with the daughter?” Stotsky asked, incredulous.

Fenway shook her head. Stotsky went quiet again.

There was a bang at the front of the church.

“YOU!”

The man who had been sitting on the other side of Walker’s widow had just slammed a hymnal onto the wooden pew. He looked a bit like Walker—same nose, same browline. His jaw was a little different, and his face was a little pinkish, where Walker had been ruddy.

He started up the aisle, looking directly at Rachel. Nathaniel Ferris took notice and stood up, but he looked unsure what to do.

“What right do you have to come in here and ruin this—don’t touch me, Martha,” he snapped at the horrified-looking woman next to him “—ruin this service? Do you feel better about yourself now?” He pointed at Rachel. “You think you can accuse a man like that and get away with it? I will sue you for every last penny you have.”

“Doug, stop it,” hissed Martha.

“I’m not going to let anyone ruin Harry’s reputation,” Doug called back to her, not taking his eyes off Rachel.

“Don’t listen to him,” Fenway whispered to Rachel. “You made no accusation. You just showed a tape. He can’t sue you for anything. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She wasn’t actually sure Rachel couldn’t be sued, but she thought she should keep Rachel calm, and get them both out of there—hopefully with her dad in tow. “In fact, why don’t we all leave the building?”

But Doug was incensed. “What are you two talking about? You talking about how you can steal money from the estate?”

Rob Stotsky stood up, his huge frame towering over the pew. “I think you’re going to want to stop right there.”

“Mind your own business,” Doug said. “I’m talking to this bitch who thinks she can lie about my brother and get away with it.”

Stotsky cracked his knuckles.

“Gentlemen.” Fenway stepped next to Stotsky. “Don’t fight. If you fight, I’m going to have to arrest you.”

“Bullshit,” Doug spat. “What are you, a teenager? I don’t see a badge or gun.” He motioned to Rachel. “You’re trying to help this bitch steal my brother’s money. You better get out of my way unless you want to get hurt too.”

“Do not threaten my daughter,” Stotsky said, in a menacing voice. He leaned forward, his massive frame blocking most of the aisle.

“Fighting in church is totally in bad taste anyway,” Fenway said. “No one wants—”

And just as Fenway was hoping, Doug threw a punch.

Stotsky saw it coming and stepped back—Doug’s fist missed Stotsky’s jaw by a mile. Fenway was still standing next to Stotsky, though, and Doug’s fist landed a glancing blow on her shoulder. It still hurt, and would likely bruise, but it wasn’t bad.

Before Doug could take a step back, Fenway drove her left hand up under his chin and pushed forward with her whole body. Doug’s punch had thrown his center of gravity off, so when Fenway drove forward, he twisted and fell awkwardly. She kept her hand on his chin and went down on top of him. Her knee was in his ribs when they hit the ground. Doug let out a painful wheeze.

“You assaulted a peace officer. Shall we go down to the station to sort this all out?” Fenway noticed how hard her heart was pounding. She looked up. Her father, the reverend, the woman who had been with Walker’s widow, and the woman called Martha were all standing in the aisle about twenty feet away. Their eyes were big, like they couldn’t believe what they saw.

“Rachel,” Fenway said, “would you be a dear and go get Dez?”

“Um, sure.” She went out the sanctuary doors.

“I’m going to sue you,” Doug squeaked.

“I apologize for this happening in your church, Reverend,” Fenway said, looking up at him. “It couldn’t be helped.”

Dez came in with Rachel following her. Fenway rolled Doug onto his stomach.

“This is starting to become a habit with you, Coroner.” Dez took out her handcuffs. “Did this one have a gun too?”

“Just fists.”

“I wasn’t trying to hit you,” Doug complained with a face full of floor. “I was trying to hit the big guy.”

“He called Rachel a few names,” she explained to Dez. “Mr. Stotsky didn’t much care for it.”

“You arresting him?”

Fenway looked from the man beneath her to Dez. “Yes. He punched me.”

Fenway pushed herself up a bit so Dez could pull Doug’s hands behind his back. “Keep this up,” Dez deadpanned, snapping the cuffs on Doug, “and you’re going to need to carry your own pair. All right, sir, what’s your name?”

“I don’t have to answer that.”

“Suit yourself. We’ll have to enter you as John Doe in the system. It’ll take an extra day or two to process you that way, but I guess that’s okay if you don’t mind being a guest of the county.”

“I think his name is Doug,” Fenway said. “He said Harrison Walker was his brother.”

Dez ignored her. “John Doe, you are under arrest for assault on a peace officer.”

“I didn’t know she was a peace officer.”

Fenway looked at Dez. “I told him I could arrest him. He didn’t believe me.”

“We can sort this all out at the station.” Dez helped Doug to his feet. “I’m going to call for a squad car. I can’t take him into custody in my Impala. People who have just been arrested tend not to treat the back seat with the utmost care.” She got on her radio to contact dispatch, and led Walker’s brother out of the sanctuary.

Nathaniel Ferris looked at them leaving, then looked at Fenway. “I’ll be right back.” He followed them out.

Rachel watched all of them go. “Uh, thanks, Fenway. That was pretty bad-ass. Did you do the same kind of thing with Lana?”

Fenway nodded. “Well, Lana had a gun, but yeah.”

Stotsky cleared his throat. “Rachel, you and I need to talk.”

“Sorry, Dad. I’m not ready to talk to you right now.”

Fenway looked at Rachel and her father. “Both of you need to give your witness statements to this little event. You can come down to the sheriff’s office, give your statements, and then go talk, or not, as you see fit. And Rachel, you’re on paid leave for two weeks. More if you need it. Go talk to a psychologist, or go sit on a beach, or something. After you give your statement tonight, I don’t want to see you at the office.”

Rachel shook her head. “I don’t have the vacation time.”

“After what happened to you at the office on Friday? On company time? I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

“Do I need to come down and give a statement too?” asked Stotsky. He had an annoyed look on his face.

“Absolutely.”

He shook his head. “I’ve got to get Mr. Ferris home.”

“I think my father can find his own way. If you want, you can even ride with me in Dez’s Impala, although you have to promise not to mess up the back seat.”

Ferris came back into the sanctuary and walked up to them. “They took Doug Walker out in handcuffs. This is a disaster. Doug is a lobbyist in Sacramento—this is awful for my business.”

Fenway blinked at him. “You saw him punch me, Dad.”

Ferris stopped. “I know he hit you, Fenway, but you know he was trying to hit Rob. And it barely touched you. You know emotions run high at these things. Why do that to a grieving relative? Really, Fenway? Handcuffs?”

“Thanks for your concern, Dad. I’ll be fine.” Fenway rubbed her shoulder. “Listen, Rob and Rachel both saw the guy hit me. We need to take their statements down at the sheriff’s office. How about if Dez drives the four of us, and you meet us down there later tonight? I know you came with Rob—you okay going down there together and meeting us?”

“I saw the punch too,” Ferris said. “Shouldn’t I give my statement?”

Fenway couldn’t see a way around it. “Sure, the more witnesses the better,” she said.

Her father looked at his watch. “I’ve got to drop some paperwork off at the clerk’s office, so I’m going that way anyway. What’s it going to take, fifteen minutes?”

“I’m not sure I need to go, boss,” Stotsky said.

“Don’t be silly. We’ll go in my car. We’ll give our statements, we’ll go get a steak dinner, we’ll head back. You’ll be home by eight.”

“Rachel.” Stotsky pulled her aside. “I really would like to talk with you.”