Mother Gets a Lift

Mother Gets a Lift by Lesley A. Diehl Page B

Book: Mother Gets a Lift by Lesley A. Diehl Read Free Book Online
Authors: Lesley A. Diehl
Tags: General Fiction
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recognize her.
    “I don’t think I’ll be much help. Can’t I give you a tissue sample and you can use DNA?”
    He laughed. “The labs are so backed up, it’ll take years. I’ve got a murder case I’ve got to clear.”
    I shrugged. “I’m here so I guess I’ll give it a go.”
    We walked up to a window and a curtain parted. I looked at the body. It was that of a woman who’d had a number of procedures, some old (taut skin surrounded by a sea of wrinkles), others new enough that the sutures hadn’t healed. Her color was somewhere between muddy water puddle brown and overcooked pasta beige with a tinge of yellow and green. It sure looked like Mom.
    I leaned closer to the glass separating me from the body. “Maybe.”
    “Maybe? What do you mean? It’s either your mom or it isn’t. Do you need more time?”
    I considered his question. Maybe I did need more time with Mom, but that was out of my hands. She wasn’t interested when she was living, and now it was too late. Assuming the body was hers.
    “I’ve got to go with maybe.”
    Detective Estevez gave me a cop look saying I was wasting his time.
    “I’d like to talk to Clay. Is that possible?”
    “You’re sure you can’t make an ID? Take another look.”
    “Detective Estevez, I am the mother of a newborn. Do you have any idea how awful baby poop looks?” By the expression of horror on his face, I suspected he was a father.
    “Right. Well, then, you and I know it looks appreciably better than that body on the slab, so, no, unless you want me to have you brought up on charges of police brutality, I decline the opportunity to have another peek.”
    He signaled to whoever was behind the curtain, perhaps The Great and Glorious Medical Examiner Oz, and the drapes closed.
    “Now about Clay. I’d like to see him.”
    “Why would you want to talk with the man who killed your mother?”
    “I just do, that’s all.”
    “You’ll have to clear it with his attorney first.”
    Estevez made a call and, after some time getting the runaround from the DA’s office, obtained the name of Clay’s attorney. He then walked me out of the building. “Your failure to identify the body is making this case difficult for us, you know.”
    “Think about if you were in my shoes. You think it may be your mother dead there, but you’re not certain. How would you feel?”
    If I expected sympathy, I was disappointed. “Someone saw her being pushed off the ship. Who else could it be? Your mother, Mrs. Davis, never got off the ship, and everyone else did. It’s only logical. She has to be your mother.” By now the detective was shouting, drawing the attention of all the others in the parking lot. His face was an ugly shade of purple. I’d seen colors on skin today that rivaled that of my husband’s face when he fainted in the delivery room.
    I left the detective in the lot flailing his arms in the air and yelling while I ran for my car. Actually, given the fact of having recently given birth, I did a modified skip to my car.
    When I connected with Clay’s attorney by cell, he told me Clay was in the Miami-Dade holding facility.
    “You can stop by there or see him tomorrow after he gets bailed out, if he gets bailed out.” The lawyer didn’t sound hopeful for Clay’s release.
    “I may have difficulty getting down here tomorrow, so I’ll pay him a visit now.”
    *
    We stared at each other through the smeared, scratched Plexiglas separating us. I picked up the receiver and looked at it.
    Clay nodded at the phone. “You put it up against your ear.”
    I extracted a baby wipe from my purse, cleaned off the earpiece, and did as he said.
    “Nice of you to visit. I’m sorry we never met before this, but I can assure you…”
    I looked through the smudges at Clay’s face, round, soft, patient in its demeanor, the face of a man my mother would divorce, but not the face of a man who would kill her for it. A cop would say I couldn’t be certain he didn’t kill Mom.

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