He was slightly cool to the touch. The body temperature decreases at a rate of about one to two degrees Fahrenheit per hour until the temperature of the surrounding environment is reached.

How did all of this pertain to how long this man’s been dead? Why the hell was there no sign of lividity?

She tried hard to think of a response. The people standing around staring at her, quietly yet impatiently, waiting for her to say something, didn’t help matters. If she didn’t say anything soon, she’d look like an idiot. Val finally opened her mouth and spoke.

“It is awfully warm in here. When was the last time someone saw him alive? That would help narrow things down and be the best indication because the temperature of the room can have a big effect on decomposition.” She was happy with the impromptu response. It seemed to work as the quiet crowd quickly started to discuss a possible answer.

“We don’t have an exact time,” the nurse said. “He lives here with his, well, I think his wife. I’m not sure. I’m not their usual nurse. Today’s my first day with them. I’ve been trying to ask her questions but she’s a little out of it, Alzheimer’s maybe. I don’t think she understands he’s deceased.”

Howie chimed in, “Val, why don’t you try to get some information from the wife? She’s probably the best one to answer your question since she was the last one to see him alive. Oh, and you’ll probably also have to confirm she knows her husband’s dead first, since the nurse seems to think she’s not up to speed on that.”

She shot him a worried look. He only responded with raised eyebrows and a nod of the head signaling a stern Go to it.

Death was her job now, and she knew she had to handle the circumstances associated with it, all of them, even the emotionally difficult ones, such as talking delicately with surviving family members to gain the information she needed.

The little old lady sat in the armchair. Her gaze was glued to the TV set and she didn’t even turn her head when Val sheepishly approached her. She was so frail-looking, but, oddly, seemed at peace. Her face was serene, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Val wondered what would happen when she forced the harsh reality of death upon her.

Her small spindly fingers, shaking slightly, grasped the blanket that covered her legs. Val noticed the woman wore purple fingernail polish and decided to start there. “I like your nail color.”