You can’t be afraid to show them who’s boss, Aunt Kay.
NOTHING WILL CHANGE IF all I do is worry about displeasing this one or another, and I feel the slow burn of an angry stubbornness setting in. I step out of the shower, drying off, and there’s no better cure for discouragement than getting back into the saddle.
Putting on my bathrobe, I call the DNA lab, unfamiliar with the clerk who cheerfully answers, “This is Candi,” as if she works in a nail salon. I announce myself, and when she doesn’t respond beyond a grunted “uh-huh,” I add, “Good morning.”
“Oh hi, good morning. Um, who are you looking for?” is her distracted reply, and technically she doesn’t answer to me.
But the lab director, her boss, does. I can get her in plenty of trouble if I’m sufficiently motivated.
“I realize we haven’t met. I’m the new chief medical examiner,” I add in case she hasn’t connected the dots.
“I know. I’ve seen you on the news when Dana Diletti’s tried to interview you. What’s she like in person?”
“I need Doctor Givens, please,” I reply, and Candi the clerk doesn’t see him at the moment, doesn’t know where he is.
“He’s probably tied up,” she figures as I imagine her yawning, looking bored. “Maybe you could try back later?”
“Candi?” I say her name in a way that gets her attention. “I don’t care what he’s in the middle of, I want him on the phone right now.”
“Oh. Yes, ma’am. Okay . . . Um, h-hold on,” she stammers, and in no time, molecular biologist Clark Givens is on the line.
“How’s it going?” I don’t have to tell him why I’m calling.
“We should have the answer within the hour,” he informs me as I stand in front of the sink, tearing off a piece of dental floss.
I tell him to text me when Gwen Hainey’s identification is confirmed, and make sure he notifies August Ryan at the same time so he can deal with the next of kin.
“Sadly, her family, those who knew her probably already heard what’s all over the news, and that should never happen.” I towel my hair some more.
“August has called here several times already. And the media’s out of control, hounding everyone from what I understand,” Clark lets me know. “When I got here a few hours ago, there was a TV truck on the street filming employees getting out of their cars, heading into the building.”
“Let me guess.” I open a drawer under the sink, finding the styling gel. “Dana Diletti again.”
“Her producer is one of the people who keeps calling.” Clark’s voice over speakerphone inside the master bathroom. “Apparently, she’s doing some big piece on the Railway Slayer, as she’s dubbed Gwen Hainey’s killer. And that’s sure to scare the bejesus out of everyone.”
“Making everything that much harder for those of us trying to work the case,” I reply, and I bring up the disturbing death that Officer Fruge told me about.
Cammie Ramada, her body found on the shore of the Potomac River inside the same park where Gwen was found on Daingerfield Island, I explain to Clark.
“Apparently, this was in early April, and ruled a drowning, the manner of death accidental.” I run a comb through my damp hair, working a dab of gel through it. “But a police officer I was with last night insists Cammie Ramada was murdered. There seem to be a lot of unanswered questions about the case.”
“Which police officer?” Clark asks, and I can tell he’s guarded.
“Blaise Fruge.” I open a cabinet, and nothing is where it’s supposed to be thanks to Dorothy rummaging through my belongings. “She and I spent a lot of time together going through Gwen Hainey’s townhome.”
“What is it I can help you with, exactly?”
“I’m interested in what you have to say since you were working here when Cammie Ramada mysteriously drowned.” I remind him I hadn’t moved from Massachusetts yet.
I also don’t think the death made the news in a big way or I would have heard about it. I go on to say that Park Police Investigator Ryan hasn’t mentioned the case to me, and one can only hope there’s no conspiracy of silence going on.
“Because of tourism, local business, politics or anything else,” I’m saying to Clark. “We need to make sure her death isn’t connected to Gwen Hainey’s,” I add, and he responds with a startled pause.
“Just so we’re clear,” he finally says, “I was on vacation with my family in the Outer Banks when Cammie Ramada’s body was found.”