Page 28 of Forgotten Path
She squeezed her eyes closed and dropped her head to her knees, retreating into a tight cave of grief. He knew she needed comfort, and he would do his best to provide it. But just now, he had a different priority. He removed his mobile phone from his pocket, noting the heaviness in his chest and the tightness in his throat, and pulled up Felicia’s number.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
“Felicia? Did you hear me?”
Bodhi’s voice sounded in her ear, full of concern. She had heard him. Had even processed the words—Joel is dead. Broken neck. Possibly from a fall, maybe. On a houseboat in Oyster Point.She heard him, but she couldn’t seem to form words of her own.
She cleared her throat, noting the numbness in her hands and the high buzzing sound inside her mind. She gripped the phone, lightheaded, and managed to croak, “Yes. Have you called the police?”
“You are the police,” he told her gently.
“The local police. You need to report his death to local law enforcement.” Her fuzzy mind began to clear. “You should know that. Are you okay?” Maybe he was in shock. It was possible. He was no stranger to death, but it was different when it was a friend.
“I thought I should talk to you first.”
“I appreciate that,” she said softly. She did, and she was glad to learn the awful news from him rather than a stranger. But he needed to inform the Oyster Point authorities so they could do their jobs.
“I know.” He paused. Then he lowered his voice and spoke with deliberate calm, “There’s a chance Joel’s death wasn’t accidental, Felicia. And I don’t know anything about the Oyster Point police. I was hoping you might—or that you could ask around. Make sure they’re ….”
He didn’t want to say it. She understood—it wasn’t his place.
She said it for him. “Make sure they’re not dirty.”
“Given the circumstances, yes. He’s been dead for several days. A short delay while we do our due diligence isn’t going to make a difference.”
She was about to ask what circumstances those were but realized she wanted to ask those questions in person.
“I’ll make some calls. And then I’ll be on my way.”
“You don’t need to come here.”
“Yes, I do.” Her voice strengthened with conviction as she explained, “He was one of ours.”
“I know. And I know he was your friend. He was my friend, too. I’ll take care of this, Felicia. You can trust me.”
“It’s not that. Of course, I trust you. But you’re an outsider there.”
“You would be, too.”
She huffed out a frustrated sigh. “But I’m a cop. You’re a civilian. I don’t mean any disrespect, Bodhi. But you aren’t even a practicing forensic pathologist. You’re a consultant. You have no authority.”
“And neither would you. Not here.” His voice was steady, reasonable—kind even. “I’m not a threat. You would be—a detective from the Keys sticking her nose into the death of a beloved local doctor. Imagine the pissing contest your department would engage in if the roles were reversed.”
She sighed. He wasn’t wrong. But it didn’t sit right with her to stand by and do nothing. She was about to protest when his words registered.
“Wait. Joel was a beloved local doctor in Oyster Point?”
“He’s been coming here for ten years. He runs a free community clinic the first weekend of every month.”
“A health clinic?” Her head spun. “For people who are alive?”
Bodhi laughed. “He did go to medical school. He could treat the living as well as the dead.”
She shook her head at herself. “Of course. I don’t know why that surprises me so much.”
“It’s a side of him you didn’t know about. A side none of us knew about.”
“I guess that’s true.” She sighed again, more heavily this time. “I’ll stay put. Find out what I can about the Oyster Point PD. Keep working on that travel plaza footage. I guess I need to let my superiors know—and Joel’s, too.”
