Skin Privilege

Instead, he laid out some fresh clothes, putting them in a neat pile on the edge of the bed, so desperate for a shower that he could almost feel the warm water on his back. At the motel, Sara had just shoved everything into the suitcase. Now, Jeffrey folded her shirts, smoothed down her jeans so they wouldn't wrinkle.

The front door opened and closed and Jeffrey went to the window again, peered out through the blinds. He'd thought Jake Valentine was sneaking out, but he saw the gangly young man standing in the front yard, hands on his hips as he surveyed the street like the lord of the manor. The sheriff was wearing a ridiculously short red velour robe that stopped a few inches shy of his knees, and when he bent over to retrieve the morning paper, Jeffrey winced at the sight of the tighty whities cracking a smile.

Valentine tucked the paper under his arm as he walked over to the car parked in front of his house.

He was wearing brown loafers and socks with the robe, and his footprints left their mark in the grass as he walked toward the neighbor's car. He checked the backseat where Jeffrey assumed the drunk was still sleeping it off, then looked up and down the street again before heading back to the house.

Jeffrey closed the blinds, not wanting the light to wake up Sara. When he turned around he saw that he was too late.

She was on her side, watching him. 'How'd you sleep?'

'Like a baby.'

'Babies don't tend to sleep sitting up in metal chairs.'

'High chairs?' He smiled at her dubious expression, sat beside her on the bed. 'You okay?'

'I'm better,' was all she allowed. 'What're we doing?'

He took her hand. 'You still sticking around?'

'Yep.'

He wasn't happy about her staying, but he'd be stupid not to use her. 'I was hoping you could tell us something about our drop-in visitor from last night.'

'Boyd Gibson?' Sara sat up, leaned her back against the headboard. 'Do you think Jake will ask me to do the autopsy?'

'I'd bet money on it,' Jeffrey told her. Valentine would want to keep tabs on Sara and Jeffrey, and there was no better way to occupy their time than by sticking them at the morgue all day. What the sheriff probably wasn't planning on was that Jeffrey had no problem leaving Sara alone at the morgue.

She asked, 'Do you want me to do the procedure?'

'Might as well,' he answered. 'Maybe something will turn up.'

She lowered her voice to just above a whisper. 'Like Lena 's fingerprints on her knife?'

She could've kicked him in the face and he would've been less surprised.

Sara explained, 'The handle is very distinctive. I've seen her with it before.'

'I'm sorry,' he apologized, knowing he should have told her hours ago. 'I guess I didn't want to think about how it might have gotten there.'

'I don't want a marriage where we keep things from each other. We did that one time before and it didn't work for either of us.'

'You're right,' he agreed, feeling even shittier since she was letting him off so easy. He felt the need to apologize again. 'I'm really sorry.'

She offered, 'It could've been self-defense.'

'Nice try,' he said, giving a dry laugh. It was hard to make a case for self-defense when the victim had been stabbed in the back. 'You think you'll get anything useful from the body?'

'You know I hate to make predictions,' she prefaced. 'But, from what I saw last night, it was pretty straightforward: knife in the back, blade through the heart, death probably instantaneous.' She shrugged. 'Does it really matter if he was hit in the head before he was killed, or what he had for his last meal?'

'What about a tox screen?'

'It'll take months to get results back, and even when we do, what can it tell us?'

'Nothing new,' Jeffrey admitted. 'We know he's a white supremacist by the tattoo. We know he was in the bar before it burned down because we saw him.'

'Do you think he set the fire?'

Jeffrey shook his head. 'It looked to me like the fire started from the outside. Besides, I'm certain he was looking for something in that bar when we saw him. He sure as hell didn't want to leave there without it.'

'Drugs might explain his behavior.'

'But not his motivation,' Jeffrey pointed out. He tried to think through his day, pin down things he could do that would actually move them toward his goal, which was finding out what exactly Lena had stumbled into and trying to help her find her way out. 'I want to go by Hank's house and see if I can find anything.'

'Drop me off at the morgue first and I'll start the autopsy.'

He had to try, 'If you left here around one, you'd be back in Grant in time for supper.'

'Or, I could find us another hotel to stay in,' she countered. 'I remember seeing a town with more than a bar and a post office about half an hour from here. Maybe they'll have something.'

'You know I don't want you here. I mean, I do, but I-'

She shushed him. 'I know.'

The hallway floor squeaked, but this time, whoever it was didn't go into the bathroom.

Sara pulled her knees to her chest, straightened the blanket so it covered her, just as a light knock came at the door.

Jeffrey said, 'Come in.'

Jake Valentine smiled as he cracked open the door. 'Sorry to disturb y'all.' He had changed from his skimpy robe into his sheriff's uniform, a decided improvement, though he still looked as if he was wearing his daddy's clothes. ' Myra 's already gone off to school, but she left you some bacon and eggs on the stove if you want.' His mouth went up in a quick smile, as if the thought of his wife cooking breakfast made him happy.

'Thank you,' Sara told him. 'That was very nice of her.'

Valentine took off his hat and addressed Sara. 'Anyway, ma'am, I was kind of hoping, you'd oblige us again today with the autopsy on Boyd. That's the man from last night. Boyd Gibson. I can get you cash if-'

That's really unnecessary,' she cut him off. 'I'm glad to help out.'

'That's great.' Valentine twirled his hat between his hands. 'I'll head over to Grover's now, pick him up and tote him to the morgue so he can make the formal ID.'

Sara was never good at hiding her surprise. 'You haven't told him about his son yet?'

Valentine stopped playing with his hat. 'Grover does the second shift at the tire factory,' he told her, as if that was an excuse. I figured I'd let him finish his work, get some sleep, before I told him about Boyd.'

Sara nodded, but her disapproval was evident. Especially in a small town, where rumors pretty much became gospel, a cop had to get to the family first to make sure they heard the truth rather than rampant speculation. It was bad enough when you had to tell a parent that their child was dead, but when you knew the victim, had actually spent time with the family, it made everything harder.

Sara volunteered, 'Maybe you could take Jeffrey with you to tell the father. I'm sure Mr. Gibson will have some questions about how his son died, and Jeffrey was one of the last people to see him alive.'

Valentine's mouth twisted to the side as he thought about her suggestion, more than likely trying to come up with a good reason to say no. 'Uh, you don't need him to help you in the morgue today?'

Sara feigned surprise at the question. She shook her head, giving an innocent-sounding, 'Not really.'

Jeffrey offered, 'You could interview me on the way there.'

'Interview you for what?'

'About last night,' Jeffrey clarified. 'I'm assuming you'll need a statement from me about what happened. The bar burning down. The dead man being thrown through our window.'

'Yeah,' Valentine agreed. 'Okay.' He glanced at his watch. 'We'd better get, then.'

'Just give me ten minutes to take a quick shower,' Jeffrey said, grabbing his clothes off the bed. 'I'll be right with you.'