Here it comes. But at least there was no mention of Oliver, yet. Val picked up her glass and swirled the contents. Then took a healthy gulp. This question was easy and she decided to answer it truthfully. She told Gwen about her encounter with Mr. Tate. There was no reason to hide it. It was because of him that she became a death investigator.

“You know, I felt my life was over when I couldn’t practice anymore. I had no idea what I was going to do. There was nothing else I wanted to do, so I thought. I liked dentistry—hell the money I made was great—but I was never excited about it. Something was missing. Truthfully, many days were dull. I was bored at the office and couldn’t wait to leave. So, I understand perfectly how you felt when you were a nurse.”

She looked at Gwen and continued, answering from her soul.

“When I was hired at the medical examiner’s office, it was basically to fulfill a need and that need was to pay my mortgage. It was a paycheck. But, now, life is exciting. My job is exciting. It certainly is anything but mundane. It’s kind of odd to say, but working with the dead has made me feel more alive than anything else I’ve done before.” She held up her hand to reveal her scar. “To think, without this, I would never be sitting here today. My life would never have taken this bizarre turn.”

“It’s funny where life takes you sometimes, isn’t it? To be doing something that makes you feel excited is a rare thing to find. I know what that’s like.”

Val realized that she dangerously exposed herself and then quickly added, “Yes, without Mr. Tate and Oliver I might not be here today.” She took one last gulp of her wine, finishing what was left, ready with her excuse for how she knew this man. It had to be coming next.

“So, I didn’t notice a wedding band on that Jack Styles’ finger. Do you think he’s single?” Gwen asked.

Val was stunned and she stared at Gwen. This question, she wasn’t expecting. Though she was surprised, she exhaled in relief and answered, “I could care less. He’s an egotistical bastard. In fact, that’s my new name for him. Egotistical Bastard. I’ll call him EB for short.”

“He has every right to be an egotistical bastard. Did you hear who he works with?”

“Who?”

“It’s someone big. The criminalist, Thomas Hayden!”

“The Thomas Hayden?” Val nearly dropped her empty glass.

20

Val paced back and forth in the decomp room, biting her nails. She stood beside a burn victim who had not only been torched, but also had a large irregular injury over his eyes, probably due to some type of firearm.