Page 11 of Ravaged With You

Tears flowed, and she clutched his hands, searching his face. “Then it’s true? Mel’s really dead?”

“I’m so sorry. Yes, it’s true.”

Chapter Three

Red’s words hit me with the force of an anvil. Stupid, I suppose. After all, I’d come home schlepping groceries only to find a police cruiser in my driveway, along with the horrible news that my husband was dead.

I believed them, but at the same time, maybe I hadn’t. Maybe I’d just been numb, and Red’s words have sent reality crashing down on me.

I hug myself, feeling lost and unsure, my hands holding so tight to Red’s I’m probably crushing bone. “I can’t wrap my head around it. Suicide? Why would he—”

“Mrs. Swift?”

I turn to see a dark-haired woman in a pantsuit striding toward me, a badge worn like a lanyard around her neck. “I’m Detective Amaro,” she says in a voice laced with compassion. “Is there somewhere we could talk?”

I glance sideways at Red, then nod. “Um, yes. Mel’s office? But can I—I mean, I need to see him. I need to know—I mean, what if you’re wrong?” It’s a stupid thing to say. Of course they’re not wrong. But I can’t truly believe it until I see Mel’s body.

His body.

“Certainly,” she says kindly. “We’ll go there first.”

A shiver courses through me, and I reach for Red’s hand. “Stay with me?”

His eyes flick briefly to the detective, but she nods, and I’m grateful not to have to go through this alone. My heart hurts and my eyes sting with the tears I’ve been holding back. I feel numb, but there is anger boiling beneath. Anger and loss and betrayal. Suicide?

I want answers. I want to curl up in bed and cry. I want it to go away.

Most of all, I’m glad Red is beside me, because if anyone can get me through this, it’s him.

I follow the detective into the distillery to the fermentation room. There’s someone in a T-shirt stenciled with Coroner’s Office zipping my husband into a body bag. The detective leads me there, and I follow with Red behind me. He puts his hand gently on my shoulder when we come to a stop.

“This is Mrs. Swift,” Detective Amaro says. “She’d like to see her husband.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” the medical guy says, but I barely hear him. I’m too focused on his hand tugging the zipper down, then spreading the black plastic cocoon away so that I can see Mel’s face. It’s been wiped clean, but there are still bits of the mash in his hair.

I turn away. “Thank you,” I whisper. The officer who drove me here told me that he’d died in the fermentation tub, but even so I ask, “How did this happen? You can stand in those tubs. How can someone force themselves to drown?” I turn back to Red. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“We believe that he tampered with the carbon dioxide scrubbers,” the detective says, “then got into the tub. As he started to lose consciousness, he would have slipped under. I am truly sorry,” she adds, and I realize that I’ve put my hand up to cover my mouth. A tear trickles down my cheek, and I wipe it away, sniffing.

“You believe?” I look pointedly up at the security cameras. “Didn’t you watch the footage?”

She shakes her head. “It appears he turned them off, as he did with the other safety measures.”

I hug myself, still in shock at Mel’s death, much less that he’d concocted such an elaborate one.

“Would you like to stay here a bit longer?” The detective’s gentle voice catches my attention.

I shake my head and reach for Red, unsure if my legs are strong enough to support me. Why. Why would he do this? I know there were things troubling him, but never once did he seem suicidal.

Then again, we weren’t really spending that much time together lately.

I barely notice the walk back to Mel’s office. I sit on the small sofa, with Red beside me. The detective pulls out one of the guest chairs at Mel’s desk and sits as well.

“Because of the note, we are approaching this as a suicide. But at the same time, we need to make further inquiries.”

“Of course. Yes. I can’t believe he’d do this.” Beside me, Red squeezes my hand hard, and I squeeze back, grateful for the support.

“Had he been acting differently recently? Any depression? Trouble at home or at work?”