Irreparable Diagnosis: Chapter 3
"You're off the case." Lana tossed Chet's report into her mesh waste basket.
Standing before her desk, Chet narrowed his eyes. "You honestly expect me to ignore the murder of a skinned dead woman?"
A gravel voice chimed from the back corner of Dr. Ramirez' office. "'Missing person.'" Barnes hadn't noticed anyone else in the Deputy-Chief-of-Medicine's office, but thirty-one sleepless hours were taking a toll on his senses. Barnes spun around and took notice of the pudgy, bald man, his fringe of brown hair, his obligatory authority figure mustache. Chet recognized the man from the local TV news: Capt. Ron Hartley, Chief of Detectives. "LAPD's decided," he continued, seated in the corner of the office, "that since you don't have much of a body, we don't have much of a homicide." He flashed a grin of yellowed teeth.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep fueling his paranoia, but Barnes smelled a cover-up. He turned back to Lana and loomed over her. "You don't feel guilty hiding the death of this woman?"
Lana averted her eyes and replied "This wasn't my decision. The order came from someone-" She hesitated.
"Higher up," Hartley concluded.
"Fine. If you need me, and I suggest you don't, I'll be in the morgue."
"You can't. The LAPD has classified Janet's body as evidence. Their forensics team will perform her autopsy." She refused to meet Barnes steel-trap gaze. "I'm sorry."
"We had an agreement," Barnes uttered coldly.
"We'll let you poke through the remains when we're done," Hartley sneered. "I promise."
Fists clenched, Chet whipped around, stormed over to the smaller man, grabbed him by the paisley tie, and grabbed the detective to his feet. Hartley flashed a grin like a menacing chimpanzee's and fixed his gaze on Barnes as he addressed Dr. Ramirez. "I'd suggest you get a handle on your superstar doctor before he does something he regrets."
Lana had sprung from her desk and was tugging full-force on Chet's right arm. "Chet, go home!" Barnes turned to her, saw the tears welling up in her eyes. "Go home," she hoarsely implored.
At that, Chet released his adversary and wordlessly left the office. The force with which he slammed the door knocked Lana's diploma in human resource management off of her wall, shattering the frame across the floor.
Standing before her desk, Chet narrowed his eyes. "You honestly expect me to ignore the murder of a skinned dead woman?"
A gravel voice chimed from the back corner of Dr. Ramirez' office. "'Missing person.'" Barnes hadn't noticed anyone else in the Deputy-Chief-of-Medicine's office, but thirty-one sleepless hours were taking a toll on his senses. Barnes spun around and took notice of the pudgy, bald man, his fringe of brown hair, his obligatory authority figure mustache. Chet recognized the man from the local TV news: Capt. Ron Hartley, Chief of Detectives. "LAPD's decided," he continued, seated in the corner of the office, "that since you don't have much of a body, we don't have much of a homicide." He flashed a grin of yellowed teeth.
Maybe it was the lack of sleep fueling his paranoia, but Barnes smelled a cover-up. He turned back to Lana and loomed over her. "You don't feel guilty hiding the death of this woman?"
Lana averted her eyes and replied "This wasn't my decision. The order came from someone-" She hesitated.
"Higher up," Hartley concluded.
"Fine. If you need me, and I suggest you don't, I'll be in the morgue."
"You can't. The LAPD has classified Janet's body as evidence. Their forensics team will perform her autopsy." She refused to meet Barnes steel-trap gaze. "I'm sorry."
"We had an agreement," Barnes uttered coldly.
"We'll let you poke through the remains when we're done," Hartley sneered. "I promise."
Fists clenched, Chet whipped around, stormed over to the smaller man, grabbed him by the paisley tie, and grabbed the detective to his feet. Hartley flashed a grin like a menacing chimpanzee's and fixed his gaze on Barnes as he addressed Dr. Ramirez. "I'd suggest you get a handle on your superstar doctor before he does something he regrets."
Lana had sprung from her desk and was tugging full-force on Chet's right arm. "Chet, go home!" Barnes turned to her, saw the tears welling up in her eyes. "Go home," she hoarsely implored.
At that, Chet released his adversary and wordlessly left the office. The force with which he slammed the door knocked Lana's diploma in human resource management off of her wall, shattering the frame across the floor.