Death By Rodeo Part II
My name is Sunny Alexander. I’m Henry James and we’re writers for Dark Sides of the Truth magazine.
It’s funny weird, not funny ha, ha, how we seem to always end up in the right place at the wrong time.
Regardless, it was supposed to be an evening spent turning back the pages of western history. A few hours spent enjoying a festive jamboree filled with heroic feats of human against beast.
Instead, it ended up with a man dying mysteriously and us doing what we do best.
Snooping around.
On the way back to Damen’s house we let our imaginations run wild with several possibilities. But the one thing we knew we needed most right now was the autopsy results. Knowing how someone dies gets one closer to the why.
Unfortunately, Damen Alexander wasn’t the medical examiner.
But he was a close friend with who was.
“So this Sherry Struthers. Will she work with us?”
“Depends on what you mean by work with you Sunny.”
“You know what I mean Damen. Can we count on her to let us know the findings before she turns everything over to the police?”
“Don’t think so. I know Sherry pretty well. She’s not about to jeopardize her career by breaking protocol, much less the law.”
“We’re not asking her to break it Damen, just maybe bend it a little.”
“You know what guys? I almost got my butt handed to me on a platter for helping you out the last time. I’ll ask her, but I’m thinking Sherry’s only going to hold the results for forty eight, maybe seventy two hours and that’s it. And that’s even if she’s willing to do me a solid. Then she’ll get Houston PD involved.”
“Call her now Damen.”
“Sunny it’s after ten o'clock on a Friday night. I don’t want to bother her.”
“Call her now or I’m going to tell mom about the time Ray bailed you out of jail on that drunk and disorderly charge. You know, the one during your senior year in college?”
“How…crap, Ray told you didn’t he? Dammit, I never could trust Ray to keep his mouth shut.”
“Your choice Damen. Either deal with Sherry or deal with mom.”
As Damen was dialing the number we shared conspiratorial whispers.
“Your mother doesn’t strike me as being a dictator kind of disciplinarian.”
“She’s not. Ray told mom, she told me.”
“Are you going to let him off the hook?”
“Not until we get what we need.”
“Woman, you’re pure evil.”
“Struthers speaking.”
“Sherry, it’s Damen, Damen Alexander.”
“I know who you are Damen. Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Yeah, but I need a little help. I wouldn’t normally call you like this, but we’ve got a situation here.”
We listened as Damen recounted what happened and proposed our request.
“So let me get this straight. I’ve got a DOA hitting my morgue even as we speak. You want me to drop what I’m doing, perform an autopsy in the middle of the night, then withhold the results until your sister and her sidekick stick their noses in business that’s none of their business? Is that about it?”
“Well yeah, I guess that’s about it.”
“Damen this is by far, the craziest request I’ve heard in a long time, and if it came from anybody but you I’d shut them down in a heartbeat. But those two nights we spent in the Ozarks were the best time of my life so I guess I can look the other way just this once. By the way, we need to do that again sometime.”
“Uh, yeah Sherry, we do.”
We almost burst out laughing at the expression of total embarrassment on Damen’s face.
“Okay, meet me at the morgue in about an hour. It’s going to be a long night so I suggest you bring a ton of coffee.”
“With almond milk right?”
“See? You see what I mean? You always think of the little things. That’s what I love about you.”
“Okay Sherry see you in an hour.”
After Damen disconnected we let the silence build like pressure in an steam cooker. Finally, one of us just had to hit the quick release.
“Two nights in the…”
“Not another word Shaundrika or I swear I’ll..”
“Paleeze brother. You think I care who you mess around with? Try working with Henry and meeting some of the women he falls for.”
“Hey hang on. I was just sitting here minding my own business. How’d I suddenly get involved in this discussion?”
“You’re male right?”
“Last time I checked.”
“Your honor, the prosecution rests.”
We rolled into the parking lot of Houston General around eleven. Damen parked in an assigned spot then used a key card along with punching in some digits on a key pad to unlock a side entrance at the hospital. Things were still and quiet save for the soft hum of florescent lights above and the gentle electric whine of a custodian’s buffer machine as he polished the tile hallways to a shine.
We passed the ER, which on any given hour could be awash with accident victims or those unfortunates on the receiving end of bad intent.
Tonight however it was void of chaos. Silent, in pleasurable contradiction to the frenzied groans of the suffering and hurried bustle of life savers attempting to perform the impossible.
We followed Damen into the morgue where Dr. Sherry Struthers was already at work. We knew as far as Damen was concerned the dissection Sherry was performing was perfectly normal.
Come on folks, he’s a surgeon remember? He does this kind of stuff day in, day out. But to us on the other hand, watching Sherry split the man open like she was gutting a fish then removing organs only vital to a live person unnerved the heck out of us.
“Oh my god, I think I’m going to puke.”
“You start that Alexander and I guarantee you I’ll blow chunks all over your shoes.”
“Interesting. You guys want to take a look at this?”
“Uh, no Sherry we’re fine right here. What?”
“Well, we can rule out hemorrhaging. There’s no sign of it anywhere. So it’s highly unlikely it was any type of blunt force trauma. No signs of contusions, or external or subcutaneous hematomas. Nothing to indicate the impact from that bull killed him.”
“Then what?”
“Don’t know yet. Damen check out his right palm, dead center. See that mark?”
“Yeah, a tiny red dot, an injection site maybe?”
“He’s got the exact same on his left. See it?”
“You know what this means right?”
“What? What does it mean?”
Damen stepped away from the table and faced us.
“It means Sunny, we have to wait until the screens come in. The man’s body didn’t tell us very much. Hopefully the toxicity screen will.”
“How long will that take?”
“Hard to say. Probably sometime Monday morning. Sherry? You need some help?”
“No I’ve got it. You guys go on.”
“You’ll call us when you have something?”
“You know I will lover.”
We watched Damen flinch and offer us a wry grin.
“Okay, let’s go home and try to get some sleep. I’d like to try to make the best of a weekend off. Don’t get very many.”
“Yeah, the thing is brother Henry and I do some of our best work on the weekends. Right Henry?”
“And then some.”
READ ON — DEATH BY RODEO PART III
Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Conclusion
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