When the Dead Speak

Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Jake dried off and pulled on a pair of clean blue jeans, thanks to Abby. Little by little, more of his clothes were ending up in the locker in the gym. He heard soft flute music floating through the intercom system on the wall. A lit, scented candle on the counter emitted a faint, pleasant aroma.

His hair still damp from the shower, Jake opened the refrigerator and felt for the coldest beer can he could find. He didn't open it, just held the can to his head.

Abby materialized in the doorway. "You left work early." She poured two glasses of iced tea and handed Jake one. Taking the can of beer from him and placing it back in the refrigerator, she said, "Have a seat and I'll change the bandage."

Subtle, yet effective. Jake had to smile at how smoothly Abby did that. She had a certain air of respectability that made it difficult to defy, deny, or criticize her. She was Mother Theresa in a headdress.

"Is Sam around?" Jake flinched as Abby pulled off the bloody gauze pad.

"Upstairs, I believe." She applied more of the salve and a fresh bandage to his forehead. "Alex and I are going to try a new Mexican restaurant in town. Sam doesn't care to join us."

"She's probably still pissed about her suspension."

"Sam was suspended?"

"She has a habit of sticking her foot in her mouth. Now she has a whole week off."

Abby had him hold the bandage in place while she cut strips of tape. "Maybe I should stay home." She finished the bandaging and pressed the back of her hand to his face.

"Don't worry. Sam planned it that way," Jake said. Abby's look of confusion prompted him to explain. "This way she has more time to work on a case that Captain Murphy closed."

Abby shook two aspirins out of a bottle and handed them to Jake. "You have a slight fever. Other than that, the wound is healing."

"How can I thank you and Alex?"

Patting his hand, Abby said, "You don't have to thank me."

"There has to be something I can do for Alex. It was his medicine. Although I'm sure he doesn't want anything from me."

Fabric rustled as Abby sat down. She gazed out at the backyard where Alex was riding up the asphalt path in the golf cart.

"Actually, there is one thing Alex would like." She told Jake about an Irish Setter at the pet shop next to a spice emporium. Alex would go next door to play with the dog while Abby shopped. Alex had a similar dog on the reservation but it had been run over by a truck. "He denies that he has a soft spot for that dog and, knowing Alex, I'm sure he feels he would be imposing on Sam."

"But it wouldn't be here in this house. It would stay with Alex."

"I know, but Alex..."

Alex walked in looking dapper in blue jeans, a navy blue sportcoat, navy blue shirt, and a silver conch as a tie. His long gray hair was pulled back in his usual pony tail. His navy hat had a matching conch.

He gave a nod toward Jake, looked at his head. "How is it doing?"

"It lets me know it's still there when I try to do too much, but I'll live."

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" Abby asked.

"No, thanks."

"There are leftovers in the frig and cake in the cake saver."

Once they left, Jake walked into the study. There was a plexiboard on the wall. With magic markers Sam had written the word HAP on the left side of the board. A line extended to the right where she wrote the year Hap allegedly died. Another line continued to the date Hap's body was found.

Jake picked up a red magic marker. By Hap's name on the left he printed, YONGCHOU. A little to the right of that he wrote HAWAII.