Ionshaker (Part I), Felix Timothy [fox in socks read aloud TXT] 📗

was I. I didn’t see the need to hold on to the body especially when a grieving family was on my neck,” Rashid’s voice was up.
“Wait, the family asked for the body?” A frown formed on Brett’s face.
“Isn’t that what I just said?”
“It can’t be! The last time I checked, I was hunting down the husband in San Francisco.”
“Then you released the husband and when you did that, he called his lawyer who claimed the body on his behalf. Now if you don’t mind I’ve got lots of dead bodies that need me. Either you grab a scalpel and help me sever them, or beat it,” Rashid lashed out turning back to the body he had began cutting up.

The sudden twist in the still unfolding mystery threw him off. The sole reason he’d come to check out the body was to center his investigation on Brooke. But as it had turned out, Trey was still very much in the picture.

It wasn’t Trey’s asking his attorney to claim the body that raised his eyebrows; it was the alacrity with which the body was taken from the FBI that was unsettling. It was as if that body had something – clues, hints, or evidence that Rashid had missed during the autopsy – that Trey was determined to hide.

Brett left Nicole in the office with the assignment of looking into the four names they’d gotten from the arrogant junkyard caretaker, starting with the caretaker’s own name - John Crowley, then his friend that he surmised might have been at the junkyard when Nicole and Charles made their first visit - Ted Goblet, then his colleagues Sam Therizion who was attending a court hearing and Peter McGill who had called in sick.

Getting to Farewell Funeral Home was quick, and after parking his black Ford Avalanche, Brett flashed his badge after reaching the morgue’s reception desk. A middle aged lady was at the desk.
“How can I be of service?” She asked with a nice smile.
“I’m looking for a body,” he said returning his badge.
“Male or female?” She asked putting on her glasses.
“Female – Brooke Woodley, brought in yesterday.”
“Give me a minute to check,” she said turning to the computer. His eyes locked on her as a sudden frown formed on her face. She couldn’t believe her computer monitor.
“What? What’s wrong?” Brett asked anxiously.
“It seems...” she trailed off as if not believing what she was seeing on the computer screen.
“It seems what?” Brett’s voice went up.
“The body was taken yesterday evening; it didn’t even spend a night,” she looked up at him.
“What time and who took it?”
“6:30, the same person who brought it – Rendell Hernandez,” she answered after confirming on the computer.
“Were you on duty?”
“Yeah… “ She said slowly as a sudden frown formed on her face. Then she continued, “Oh, that’s right – I remember now, the body was picked up yesterday by the same man who dropped her off. She didn’t even spend a night.”
“Do you know where he took the body?” Brett asked urgently.
“As a matter a fact, I was paying attention because he seemed really nervous about something. I heard him talking on the phone about a crematorium but I don’t know where.”
“A crematorium?” Brett was stunned.
“Uh-hmm.”
“Thank you for your help.
“You’re welcome.”
What was happening? Everything was fast spinning out of control. He needed to find the attorney fast. Rendell Hernandez had some explaining to do.


11


Who was Rendell Hernandez? Was he just a family attorney or was he something more? He’d retrieved Brooke’s body from the FBI and cremated it, destroying evidence.
Smart move.

It would have been okay if Brooke’s death had been normal. According to Brett, the introduction of the Rendell-Hernandez-ingredient into the now formidable murder mystery suggested two things; he was either the shooter or the accomplice.
Having said that, Brett could now see a ray of hope through the dark tunnel of Brooke Woodley’s murder investigation.

He called Nicole asking for Rendell Hernandez’s address, which Nicole promptly texted him. Finally, he’d broken new ground.

* * *


Rendell Hernandez was in his office situated on Imperial Highway, Lynwood, Los Angeles, on the fourth floor of the Rosa building. His secretary was in his office handing him a dossier on a case and the case was to be the next thing on his to-do list after successfully handling the Brooke issue. Before she turned to go, the secretary informed him that a gentleman was waiting in the lobby.
“Does he have an appointment?” Rendell asked with his eyes engrossed in the dossier.
“It’s the government.”
He stopped perusing through the dossier to look up and say, “Send him in.”
Then, he took off his reading glasses and swung in his chair around, waiting for the man from the government. Almost immediately, the door opened and agent Brett Dawson walked in. Rendell studied him for about three seconds before beckoning him to take a seat.
“Are you by any chance related to the president?” He asked with a smile.
“Me! No, why?” Brett chuckled wondering, “Where’s this coming from?”
“You see, my secretary tells me, the government is here. So I assumed she’d seen the president himself or his brother, you know, someone who looks like the president.”
The joke earned a grin on Brett’s face and broke the ice between them.
“You should definitely get a new office assistant because as you can see, I’m not the president,” then he signed off the sentence lightly but seriously by saying, “Brett Dawson, FBI.”
“FBI! Should I be scared?” He smiled.
“Depends. Why did you claim Brooke’s body – did her husband ask you to take care of that?” Brett’s countenance changed to serious as he held his breath and hoped for a yes.
“No. I was just doing my job,” Rendell responded calmly.
“I don’t follow. How were you exactly doing your job if Brooke’s husband didn’t ask you to claim the body?”
“As Brooke’s attorney it was my duty to take care of her body in case her husband was not in a position to do so. And Trey wasn’t around so I did it.” Rendell said it so easily, so casually, as if he was proud of it.
“Okay fine. Where’s the body? I still need to run further tests on it.”
“Cremated,” Rendell answered with a straight face.
“You’ve already burned her?”
Brett couldn’t believe the guy, and the unmovable Rendell answered, “I’m afraid so.”
“And why on earth would you do that Rendell? Does the husband know?” Brett’s voice went up.
“No,” Rendell answered calmly.
“What! Are you crazy?” Brett asked twitching in his seat. He had never seen such an arrogant lawyer. How could he take the liberty of cremating someone’s wife without even checking with the husband first? Had he thought of the repercussions?
“Why would you even think of doing it in the first place?” Brett asked after composing himself.
“As I told you, just doing my job.”
“Just answer the question, ” Brett snapped.
“I was fulfilling Brooke’s wishes. She had a will.”
“To be cremated?”
“Yes.”
Brett sighed then stared at the lawyer for a few seconds before telling him, “Fine it was in her will, but couldn’t you at least wait for her husband?”
“The will was very specific. She wanted her cremation done within twenty four hours,” the attorney said leaning back in his chair.
“Help me out here, why would she want something like that done?”
“I asked but she didn’t tell me, sorry.”
“And you couldn’t wait just a few more hours?” Brett asked looking down.
“I’ve already told you, the will was very specific.”
Brett looked up to ask, “Can I see a copy?”
Rendell reached down and pulled out a brown sheet of paper from his desk drawer and shoved it across to him. It was a short, clear-cut, two paragraph, single page document. He had kept it close just in case. He was a lawyer, he had to be prepared. Brett read the will quietly as Rendell watched him. He knew he was covered.
After finishing, Brett looked up. The document seemed authentic. Brooke had signed on it in the presence of her lawyer, Rendell Hernandez. The signature dated only a week before her death. Surely, that was intriguing.
Was the whole will business another distraction? Or was it an extension of a colossal cover up? But a cover up of what?
“I still don’t believe it, it could just be a piece of paper with fake signatures,” Brett said shoving the will back to Rendell.
“Really?” Rendell asked rhetorically leaning to his left to pull out a drawer, took out a memory stick, and plugged it into his laptop. Then he opened a file in media player and turned the laptop to face Brett saying “Be my guest.”
Brett pulled the laptop closer to him and hit Enter. Shortly thereafter, he heard a voice, “My name is Brooke Nesbit Woodley. I’m making this recording to expunge all doubts that my wishes as stipulated in my will were my own decision. I’m providing my attorney and good friend Rendell Hernandez protection from litigation from those I consider dear to me, if he goes ahead and ensures my body is cremated within 24 hours following my death. To my beloved husband Trey Woodley, you made me very happy and I’m doing this because it would be unfair to burden you with this wish. I know you’d never deny me anything, but asking this would be asking too much. Please understand. I love you. Goodbye Trey.”

* * *

“…they’re dangerous, be careful…”
That phrase said it all. They were behind his wife’s death and they were also behind Robin’s accident. Thinking about his wife, Trey remembered that he needed to return to LA and commence funeral arrangements.

But that brought another Catch-22 predicament. Would he leave Robin in the lurch to return home to bury his dead wife? Or would he forget about Brooke and carry on with this mission impossible?

It was deja vu all over again.

He’d faced the same dilemma two years ago when he’d been obliged to choose between them. Robin had been fun and they connected. However, there was a but. The but had been Audrey. Choosing Robin meant taking the complete package.

On the other hand, Brooke was good to go in that respect. He would only be marrying Brooke, with no extras.

Back then, he had closed his eyes and tossed a coin - figuratively of course!
This time he knew better.

The previous day, Trey had managed to get two rooms in a decent motel close to the hospital. They had already taken their breakfast and Audrey was in the common room watching TV. He was just about to tell her something when his cell phone rang.
After glancing at the caller ID, he knew he couldn’t take the strange call in Audrey’s