Dahlia's Kiss

DEAD SILENCE

“Dahlia,if you’re going to puke, leave the apartment.” Sterling's eyes narrowed at me as I struggled to breathe through my mouth to keep from smelling the blood. “You’ll contaminate the crime scene.”

I waved him away as I turned my back to the bed and slammed my eyes closed. You got this, Dahlia. It's just a little blood. It's not that big of a deal. You didn’t even know him. You slept with him one time and you made sure he didn’t even remember it. Get it together, girl. Just breathe. Sterling's hand landed on my shoulder as I fought to control myself, sending a shockwave of terror coursing through my bones.

“Don’t touch me!” I shouted, breaking away and retreating to the far side of the room.

Sterling didn’t follow. His hand remained outstretched, and his green eyes sought mine through the space separating us. David Renaldo's empty, sightless face was turned in my direction, glaring at me with an expression which I couldn’t decide was anger or an impartiality one could only achieve in death. It was absurd to think the corpse was mad at me. What did he have to be angry about? All he was now was a bag of bones. Who he was in life was gone. Anything that was David had moved on.

“I’m sorry.” I offered the apology as Sterling’s hand fell back to his side. “This is just a little much for me. I don’t know what I expected to see here, or how this would help me in any way, but seeing him like this terrifies me.”

“It should.” Sterling took a step in my direction, then thought better of it. His hand reached to his neck and extracted the set of dog tags I'd seen earlier in my apartment. He rolled them in his palm as if they were a talisman to calm his nerves. When he spoke again, his voice was steady and clear. “The first time you see death is always the hardest. Each one is a little less jarring to the senses. When you’ve seen the things I’ve seen, this shit doesn’t even phase you anymore. I don’t want you to be like me. I wouldn’t have brought you here at all if it weren’t for your stubbornness. I’ll take you home and deal with this after.”

I looked at the body on the bed. The blood was turning black where it dried, and I knew it would be crispy to the touch. “What are they going to do with him?”

Sterling looked at David and inhaled deeply before speaking. “They will go over this whole place with a fine-tooth comb. Samples will be taken from under his nails, and swabs from his skin in case the bastard touched him and left any evidence behind. Any blood in the suite will be collected and processed in case any of it didn’t come from the victim. Every surface will be fingerprinted. You saw the forensic team taking tape liftings from the carpet. They’ll be looking for hair or fibers that don’t belong.”

I shook my head. “But what about him? What will happen to his body?”

“After we get done with the investigation, his remains will be released to his family. They’ll bury him or cremate him, or whatever the super-rich are doing when they die these days. Maybe they’ll turn him into a tree or some other bullshit. I don’t know. My business is finding out why this happened, and by whose hand. The rest isn’t my concern.”

“What are you going to tell his family?” I asked.

“Shit!” Sterling wiped his forehead and drew his hand down his face. The stubble on his chin grated against his palm. “I forgot they were waiting downstairs. We better go and face the music on that one.”

I followed him in silence to the hall leading to the elevator. He didn’t say a word as he pressed the button for the lobby. There was soft music playing in the background as we descended. Funny, I hadn’t noticed it on the way up. We kept several feet between us in the small space, each of us pressed against the opposite wall. When the final floor dinged, and the doors slid open silently, I was struck by the amount of activity surrounding us.

“Take this.” His big palm held the keys to the unmarked car. “It wouldn’t be appropriate for you to come with me to inform the family. Go wait in the car. I won’t be long.”

“Okay.” Electricity shot through my fingertips as our flesh touched.

Sterling gasped before pulling away quickly. “None of that. I don’t want to be sporting wood when I tell these people their kid is dead.”

An important looking man pushed through the throng. Two uniformed officers prevented him from moving any further. “Sterling? Are you Russell Sterling?” His voice carried the weight of a man who wasn’t used to being told no and was just shut down in a hard way. It must have been the father. A petite blonde woman lingered timidly behind him with red-rimmed eyes.

“Go on, Dahlia,” Sterling pushed at me, never taking his eyes off the couple. “Get out of here while you still can. You don’t want any part in this. Trust me. This is the worst part of my job.”

I couldn’t imagine anything worse than seeing dead bodies up close and personal, but what did I know? I took the keys and turned the opposite way of the grieving family.

No one stopped me on the way out. I held my head high, and tried to blend in, hoping my ruse would prevent anyone from questioning my presence. When I reached the car, I threw up, coating the sidewalk with the bile from my empty stomach. Then I cried. The concrete felt rough beneath my palms as I sank to the ground and rested my head against the car.

“This seat taken?”

A man loomed over me, the sunlight obscuring his form. I scrambled to my feet, trying to put distance between our bodies. All I could make out was a mess of dark-colored hair, and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, leaving a slew of tattoos visible across his skin.

“Whoa there, girlie. I didn’t mean to scare you. I don’t usually come across another one of my kind cowering against a car in a puddle of her own tears. You can understand my confusion, I’m sure.” His biceps strained against the fabric of the shirt as he crossed his arms.