4 Ken

Ken.

Jen glanced at her left hand, ring finger. She’d taken off the token of his love months ago. The whole idea had been a sham. She hadn’t loved him and he couldn’t love her.

For a moment an irrational thought invaded her mind. What if seeing Ken’s body was the wrong thing to do? She mentally shook herself. During the ride from the hotel, she’d convinced herself otherwise.

She needed the closure. She needed to know if he’d really killed himself as someone had told her this morning.

Maybe finally getting to know the person she had almost married would help her assuage the guilt she felt over his suicide.

She was a psychologist and she should have seen it coming. Unfortunately, she’d lost touch with him.

The arrival of Calvin with her coffee interrupted her descent into self-pity.

“Here you go. Dr. Press is almost done.”

“Thanks,” she said and to her relief he left.

The doctor entered his office a moment later. He stood and she held out her hand, which he clasped distractedly. She caught the familiar scent of hospital soap.

“I’m Dr. Press.”

“Jennifer O’Grady,” she said, then added as if this were an official visit. “Special Agent.”

“Yes, Calvin said you were FBI. Sit.” He motioned to the hard, plastic contraption on which she’d been sitting. He settled in a burgundy, leather office chair “What can I do for you.”

“I’d like to see the body of Ken Westin.”

Press’s eyebrow went up, but he didn’t comment for a moment. “Is this official business? I didn’t realize the locals brought the Feds in on this one.”

She bit her lip. She’d planned to skate around the truth, but not to actually lie. She was in New Jersey on FBI business, sort of, but it only tangentially had to do with Ken.

“No.” She swallowed having wished she’d practiced saying these words until her voice didn’t hitch. “Ken was my fiancé.”

Ex, actually, but she’d bought into this deception and might as well stick with all of it.

“I haven’t released the body, yet. My report isn’t done.”

She moved to the edge of her seat, her eyes narrowed. “Is the body part of a criminal investigation?” Why would it be?

The doctor tented his hands in front of his face. I’ve just been told by the Prosecutor’s Office that I have to keep the body. “ He shrugged, another overworked bureaucrat. “That’s all I know.”

He rose. So did she, stunned. “Surely, I could...”

“No. Now I have a back log of bodies to cut up. Good day, Ms. O’Grady.”

His lab coat whispered as he strode out of the room. Jen stood in stunned silence.

They wouldn’t let her see Ken.

How was she ever going to complete her assignment here?

***

Jen loitered on the sidewalk sucking in the wet air. Living in Washington, she should be used to the humidity, but her next task had her nerves on edge. What had started as a pressed peach blouse was now a wrinkled mess. Not the impression she wanted to convey.

Taking another breath she strode to the glass doors and entered the brick building which housed the Centre County Prosecutor’s Office. Maybe if she walked with confidence, she’d eventually feel it. Her steps slowed as she traversed the tiled lobby. A headsetted receptionist glanced her way, but didn’t stop Jen.

Normally she took the stairs wherever she went. Today the trudge upward seemed more than she could bear. Already glowing from the heat, the added burden of the charade she was trying to pull off made her feel even hotter.

Her anger over Ken’s death jacked up whatever emotions she could rank as normal, as now over the top. How would she ever get through this meeting? Calm, she kept repeating, until someone walking past gave her a look.

She punched the button for the fourth floor, but the trauma to the elevator provided no relief. The quick trip consisted of her forcing herself to take deep breaths. The doors opened automatically so she couldn’t even take her anger out on a slow car. Her breathing exercises hadn’t worked.

A quick glance into the mirrored walls of the elevator, then she stomped out of it when the doors opened again.

“Come in,” greeted her knock on the door.

Inside sat Cam Bentley, the man who’d been her dead father’s partner. His eyes narrowed briefly before his face brightened. He struggled to get his girth out of the fake leather chair. “Carrot.”

She kissed his pasty cheek then, beamed him a smile too bright for how she felt. “Uncle Cam.”

He motioned to a chair and they both sat in unison. “Honey, I’m so sorry about Ken.” He put his hands up clearly at a loss for words.

So was she, because she’d wanted this meeting to be professional. “Thanks.” She studied her legs for a moment, deciding if he could help her get in to see Ken. “The ME won’t let me see him. He said Ken’s body is part of an ongoing criminal investigation.” Her gaze met Cam’s. “Well?”

He licked his lips. “Well, it is. I just can’t talk about it. You understand.”

Her temper flared. “I understand red tape,” she shouted. Digging her nails into her palms, she fought for control. She was a professional. In a calmer voice she asked, “Does it have to do with the Redhead Killer?”

He shuffled papers on his bureaucrat’s desk. How long had it been since he’d been in the thick of an investigation? He’d lost his edge and following regulations would be more important to him now. “Oh, Jen, you know I can’t tell you about that.”

She stood and paced away from the desk. Two steps brought her to a bulletin board where hung a rogue’s gallery of Centre County’s most wanted.

She could smell him, all sweat and garlic. How could he sweat when this air conditioner setting read ‘Refrigeration’? She shivered and not just from the cold. “I’m here on official business.”

Silence.

Jen glanced over her shoulder. Cam blinked. “Official business?”

“I’m your profiler for the Redhead Killer case.”

Cam’s mouth hung open making his two chins seem like three. He ran a hand through his thinning, brown hair. “I’m not sure what to say first.”

She turned a fierce gaze to him, fighting the urge to cross her arms. Too defensive. “Why? Do you have a problem?”

“Your fiancé just died.”

A stab of pain took her breath away. “Don’t sugarcoat it Uncle Cam. Tell me what you really feel.” She lowered herself into the chair. “We broke up six months ago. Didn’t Ken tell you?”

Obviously chagrined, Cam shook his head. “I haven’t seen him much since he left.”

Her thumb rubbed where the engagement ring had been. Ken had been busy, all right. Busy having a secret life from her. She shrugged away the thoughts of him and turned to the business at hand.

“Aren’t you at least still mourning him?” Cam asked.