Sweet Last Drop. Melody Johnson

him to take, but honestly, I just wanted to finish as quickly as possible and get the hell out of the woods.

      If Berry had been a cop, his squeamishness would have been poked and prodded at by his fellow officers until they had either razzed it out of him or he found a new occupation—I’d witnessed Harroway’s interaction with some of his new partners and experienced it several times myself from covering cases with him and Greta. Luckily for Berry, he wasn’t a police officer, and Walker and I would give him all the time and support he needed. Unfortunately for Walker’s animal attack theory, people don’t lose their cookies over scenes they witness regularly. Animal attacks might be more common here than in the city, but something was obviously different about Lydia’s attack, something which—despite Walker’s misgivings—I intended to find out.

      Forty-five minutes later, Lydia was safely transported into the back of Berry’s van. Berry turned to shut the back doors, and I could see the dread in his expression at the thought of having to reopen them at the morgue. Walker was scanning the ground for anything we may have missed, so before I lost the opportunity for a one-on-one with Berry, I sidled up to the van and slammed one of the doors shut for him.

      “Thank you, ma’am. I’m much obliged,” Berry said in the same slow, warm drawl as Walker. He slammed the other door shut, so it latched into mine.

      “You’re welcome. Walker’s a good friend, and I’m happy to help.”

      Berry adjusted his John Deere baseball hat. “I heard the two of you survived a dangerous case in the city. Something about a gang war?”

      It had actually been Jillian leading the vampire uprising, but until I figured out how to reveal the existence of vampires without subjecting everyone to their mercy, I just nodded. “Something like that.”

      “I heard he was glad to have you around then, so we are certainly glad to have you here now.”

      “Thank you.” I took a deep breath. “Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?”

      Berry smiled. The movement creased and cracked every plane of his weathered face. “I can’t say that Walker didn’t warn me.”

      I raised my eyebrows. “Did he?”

      “Yes, ma’am, he did.”

      “Whatever you say can be off the record, if you’d prefer.”

      Berry’s smile widened. I hadn’t thought that his face could further wrinkle, but it did. I couldn’t help but smile back. “Ask your questions, Miss DiRocco,” he encouraged.

      “Just ‘DiRocco’ is fine.”

      He nodded.

      “How long have you been a coroner?”

      “Goin’ on twelve years now. My daddy was the coroner and his daddy was the coroner before him. I grew up in the business and wouldn’t have it any other way. People in this town often fill in their parents’ shoes, and I wasn’t much of an exception, I suppose. And proud of it.”

      I nodded. “It sounds like you enjoy your work.”

      “In general, yes. There’s a lot of great folks in town, and helpin’ their loved ones pass, helpin’ them grieve, has been more than a business. It’s my life’s work.”

      I shared his smile and then deliberately made my face somber, knowing that he wouldn’t appreciate my next line of questions. “In all your twelve years of experience, how many animal attack victims do you suppose you’ve had to pronounce dead?”

      Berry’s smile wilted. “Little more than a dozen, likely.”

      “Just over one per year then?”

      “I’d have to check our records to be certain, but I’d say that sounds about right.”

      “Do animal attack victims usually sustain such severe injuries, or would you consider Lydia’s injuries exceptionally severe?”

      Berry crossed his arms. “Now, Miss DiRocco—”

      “DiRocco is just fine.”

      He shook his head. “If Walker thinks Lydia was attacked by an animal, than she was attacked by an animal.”

      I opened my mouth, but Berry held up his hand.

      “To you that may sound presuming, but to me, it’s a testament to Walker’s abilities and fine work ethic. I know without a doubt that Walker will research the tracks, determine the animal, and find it. If he determines the tracks are not animal, he’ll tell us that, too.”

      I nodded. “I understand. I feel the same assurance about Walker’s work ethic from my brief time working our case in the city, and you’ve been working together for years.”

      Berry nodded with me.

      “I’m not asking you to question Walker’s professional opinion. I’m asking you to give me yours. In your twelve years of experience as coroner of Erin, New York, do Lydia’s injuries resemble the dozen or so other animal attack victims you’ve pronounced dead and their injuries?”

      Berry sighed. “No, they don’t.”

      “What’s different about Lydia?”

      “Her injuries are far more severe. Typically, an animal feels threatened, is protecting her young, or has rabies. In any of those circumstances, the victim may sustain a life-threatening injury, such as blow to the head. Once the victim is unconscious, the threat is neutralized, and the animal goes on its way. Signs of a struggle are sometimes visible and can be substantial, like cuts, bruises, and bites. But Lydia—” Berry’s voice caught. He shook his head.

      I touched his shoulder softly. “I know.”

      He cleared his throat. “She was torn apart.”

      “I’m sorry. I—” I opened my mouth to find a delicate way to ask my next question, but Berry met my gaze. His eyes were red and shone from his welling tears. I reminded myself that these weren’t my people. My acquaintance with Walker might encourage their friendliness initially, but if I made grown, weathered men cry after every interview, no one would want to talk to me, about the investigation or otherwise. My next question wasn’t an end-all anyway, so I swallowed it. “I’m very sorry. It’s especially hard when they’re so young.”

      Berry nodded.

      Walker returned empty-handed from scanning the scene. I bid Berry a final thank you for his time, and Berry pounded Walker’s back in that same rough handshake-hug they’d greeted one another. One look at Berry’s watery, flushed expression, however, was enough for Walker. He narrowed his eyes on me over Berry’s shoulder. I blinked back, exuding unperturbed innocence the best I could considering the circumstances, but the moment we were tucked in the privacy of his Chevy pickup, Walker exploded.

      “What the fuck was that?”

      I matched his glare with an admonishing look of my own. “You said I could interview the coroner, did you not?”

      Walker opened his mouth.

      “When you brought me here you knew full well I’d ask questions,” I said before he could answer. “Apparently, you even warned people. I’m good at what I do because people connect with me. I become a person to talk to, a person to confide in, but if you warn people that I’m a reporter, it only makes me one thing: a reporter. And people don’t open up to reporters.”

      “I warned them for good reason! Berry was crying, for heaven’s sake!”

      “My questions didn’t make him cry, Walker.”

      “I saw him! He—”

      “But it wasn’t my questions.”

      He ran his hand roughly over his face. “I know.”

      I put my hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

      Walker raised an eyebrow.