Under The Agent's Protection. Jennifer D. Bokal

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СКАЧАТЬ Baker, it looked as if Pleasant Pines had been carved out of the forest. Pine trees ringed the perimeter, and the center of town was taken up by a village green, complete with a gazebo. Wrought iron lampposts stood on each corner.

      There had been a sign, welcoming all visitors and proclaiming that the population was a mere 3,200 people.

      The streets were lined with businesses—a grocery store, a diner, a dentist’s office and the regional newspaper. People moved about, busy with their own lives. It looked as though not much had changed in the sleepy town for years. A spring snow had started, the flakes swirling across the road. Everly would’ve found the scene charming, if not for the circumstances.

      After receiving the sheriff’s call about her brother, she’d caught a flight from Chicago to Cheyenne. From there, Everly rented a car for the last leg of her journey. After almost twenty-four hours of travel, she decided that Pleasant Pines was more than secluded—it was actually cut off from the rest of the world.

      Driving down Main Street, Everly shuddered. She still couldn’t believe that this nightmare was real. Axl, dead? How could that be? The very idea that her brother was gone forever—and she was all alone in the world—was too overwhelming to handle.

      Easing her car into a parking place, Everly turned off the engine. Her throat tightened as a fresh wave of anguish rose from her gut. She drew in a deep breath and waited for the grief to pass.

      Using the rearview mirror, she checked her appearance quickly. Her green eyes—puffy. Cheeks—blotchy. Lips—colorless. For the day, she’d swept her hair into a ponytail and a tendril of auburn hair had come loose. Everly was far from put-together. But then again, what did she expect? She’d gotten the call as she was getting ready for work, and still wore the same clothes she’d changed into—black leggings, shearling-lined boots and a long cream-colored sweater.

      It was 11:10 a.m. She’d reached her destination with twenty minutes to spare until her meeting with the sheriff.

      She hoped that it gave her enough time for a quick detour—even if it wasn’t as much as she wanted. Years of experience in public relations had taught Everly to never attend an important meeting without getting all the facts. And as far as Everly was concerned, there was nothing more important than finding out what really happened to her brother.

      After draping her purse across her forearm, she hustled through the biting wind to the hospital, situated two blocks from the town square. She followed signs to the morgue, which was located in the basement. The slap of footfalls on the tiled floor kept time with her racing heart as she descended the stairs.

      Cold sweat covered her brow as she walked down the white-tiled hallway. A blue plastic sign hung, suspended by chains from the ceiling. Morgue. A metal door was the only thing that separated Everly from the truth. With a deep breath, she pushed open the door and stepped in.

      A row of metal tables bisected the large room. There was a figure on the center table, shrouded with a blue sheet.

      Sure, the sheriff had told Everly that her brother’s body had been found. And yeah, the body had Axl’s ID. Yet, she couldn’t help but wonder—what if it wasn’t Axl under the sheet? What if this had all been a mistake? Because there was one thing Everly knew for sure—her brother didn’t die of exposure as the sheriff suggested was the most likely possibility.

      She reached out with a shaking hand. Her fingertips inched closer to the sheet, brushing the fabric.

      “May I help you?” A man with sparse hair, glasses and a goatee stood next to the sink at the far side of the room.

      Everly gasped and pulled her hand away, startled. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as her racing heart slowed.

      “I hope so,” she said. “I’m Everly Baker, Axl Baker’s sister. I spoke to Sheriff Haak yesterday and he informed me that I needed to identify my brother’s body.” Her voice faltered slightly on the last words, and she took another breath to steady her emotions.

      “I’m Doc Lambert, ma’am, and very sorry for your loss.” The man picked up a clipboard and lifted a sheet of paper. He looked up over the rim of his glasses. “I didn’t expect you until after noon, but once the sheriff arrives, we can make the ID.”

      “Are you the medical examiner?”

      “Medical examiner. Pediatrician. General practitioner. Sometimes surgeon.”

      “If you don’t mind, I’d like to see my brother now,” she said.

      “It’s not the way Sheriff Haak likes things done,” said Dr. Lambert. “Besides, if the sheriff told you to meet him here, I’m sure he’ll be along directly.”

      “He’s not coming right now,” said Everly, knowing that the doctor misunderstood her early arrival. Moreover, being direct was the only way to deal with the situation. “But I’m here now.”

      Still looking over the rims of his glasses, he repeated, “Like I said, Miss Baker, it’s not how we do things in Pleasant Pines.”

      “I have to be honest with you. I think there’s been a mistake.”

      “Mistake? How?”

      “I don’t think this is my brother.” She gestured to the figure on the table.

      “We found an ID with the body. He’d checked into the local hotel and used a credit card in his name.”

      “But aren’t I here to see the...corpse and make a positive identification? To me, that means there’s a question.”

      “There is some postmortem gouging to the face.” Doc Lambert paused. “Maybe I should call the sheriff.”

      “Is there a rule in Wyoming that says a law-enforcement officer needs to be present to see a body?”

      “Well, no. It’s just that Sheriff Haak is particular about his cases.”

      “No offense,” said Everly, knowing full well that she was being persistent—possibly too persistent, “but I’m pretty particular about knowing whether my brother is dead or not.”

      With a sigh, Doc Lambert set aside his clipboard. “Since it’s not against the law, I suppose there’s no harm.” He moved to the table and pulled the sheet from the body, exposing the head, neck and shoulders.

      Everly’s chest constricted. A great wave of grief washed over her, threatening to drown her. She reached out to touch her brother’s hair then pulled her hand away as the urge to scream flooded through her, pushing its way up into her throat. Yet, she stood without breathing and stared at his lifeless body.

      “It’s him,” she whispered. “That’s my brother.” It was like a physical blow, acknowledging that he was, indeed, gone for good. “What happened?”

      “I won’t know until I conduct the autopsy and get some test results back, but it looks as though your brother got caught out in the forest at night and died of exposure. It is fairly common in these parts. Heartbreaking, but natural.”

      The loss of her brother—her rock for so many years—was unspeakably painful. She didn’t know why or how, but Everly was certain of one thing: Doc Lambert was wrong. Her brother’s СКАЧАТЬ