Outside the security office, she was greeted by a tall, older man of perhaps sixty or so, with hair still dark in places and mustache of purest white. For a moment, Pam froze, though the resemblance to the magician she’d faced was minimal. She reminded herself that she’d seen Jon’s body and entered the office.
Detective Moore pointed to a comfortable seat, watched her sit down and then took a deep breath before speaking. “Ms. Whitby, I truly wish someone else would do this for me, but I’m afraid I have to tell you some very bad news. Your partner — “
“Fiancé.”
“Yes, your fiancé, Kevin McKinley, was in an accident about four hours ago. He was walking and a car left the roadway and ran into him, knocking him into a building. I’m afraid he was dead at the scene before an ambulance could even arrive. I’m sorry.”
Pam’s breath came in tiny sips as her insides went rigid, her entire body frozen in a tension so powerful it defied description. Her throat felt as if it were clogged with flannel and even though her eyes were shedding tears, they felt as if the lids were made of sandpaper. A terrible noise echoed in her skull, a mixed shriek of pain and disbelief. She felt sick to her stomach.
She licked her lips once, twice, before she finally managed to speak. “Dear God, I hope this is a sick joke of some kind.”
“I’m afraid not, Ms. Whitby. Identification was never an issue. He had a memo pad in his pocket that indicated he was to meet you here at the airport, which is how we knew to page you. I’m sorry.” He fell silent, unsure what else he could do. What else he could say?
There really wasn’t anything more that could be said.
Kevin was dead.
She cried silently for several minutes before she stood up and took a shuddering, deep breath. “Take me to him.”
The car moved with glacial slowness and after an eternity of pain, she found herself at the morgue, waiting for Kevin’s body to be delivered from the hospital. When it finally arrived, her eyes were once again dry. Nor would she cry again for a very, very long time.
He looked almost okay. The injuries had all been internal, except for a small cut on his forehead that had only bled for a very short time. He must have died very quickly. Without a lot of pain. Pam found herself stroking his hair and just shaking her head, unable to accept what she saw, unable to believe he was gone, unable, entirely.
She stood there almost an hour before she could find the strength to turn around and walk away. Alone now completely. So goddamned alone.
1 2 3 4
