Obtrusion

Part 1

Discoveries

When the bullet struck David in the chest there was only a brief moment of pain; but as he looked into the eyes of the angelic figure hovering over him his last conscious thought was "So this is death . . ."

Chapter 1

Molly Turner stood looking down at him. His eyes were closed. His dark curly locks formed a halo around his tanned face. She gently flipped the little wisp of hair from his forehead. He looked so peaceful laying there.

She was almost afraid to touch him, as if he might suddenly wake up and find her standing over him. She couldn't resist the temptation to run her fingers through his curls.

She slid the sheet down from his chest. His skin was still dark from the summer sun even though it was the middle of November. Definitely an outdoors man. She almost envied him . . . almost.

It had been a long time since she'd been with a man. The demands of her job kept her from forming any lasting relationships. At 5' 8" tall with shoulder length blonde hair and blue eyes with flecks of silver that shimmered like gemstones, she had plenty of prospective suitors. When she was constantly called away at inconvenient hours during dinner dates, movie outings, or on weekend getaways, the suitors eventually drifted off, leaving her to live in her own world. She often wondered what it could have been like to be truly in love.

She thought to herself how ironic it was that this gorgeous man wouldn't be leaving her tonight as she removed the sheet and bundled it into a ball. She tossed it into the hazardous waste container.

She cinched the ties on her white smock. When she had gathered her hair in a bundle and clamped it atop her head, she washed her hands and donned the latex gloves. After adjusting her face shield, she double checked the instruments laying on the metal tray next to the table.

A roll of medical-grade string, called ligature, scalpel, scissors, arterial tubes, for injecting the formaldehyde solution and draining the blood, a curved needle for sewing incisions. Also set neatly on the tray was an aneurism needle/hook, a long metal tool with a flat handle and a long point that bent 90 degrees at the end, drying powder, eye caps, and super glue. The hydro-aspirator, to create negative pressure, was positioned near the end of the polished aluminum table. It was attached to the faucet of the sink with a hose coming from one of its openings that lead to a trocar. The trocar had a long sword-like needle that connected to the hydro-aspirator. It was used to puncture and aspirate the hollow organs where embalming fluid could not reach via the arteries. She had already emptied the premixed embalming solution into the embalming machine.

These were tools of her trade; an embalmer. Tonight she was alone in the Steinam Brothers Mortuary prepping the body for services the next morning. She had parked in the lot behind the funeral home and gone in through the back entrance as she always had. The embalming and preparatory rooms were in the basement where only she, the other pathologist, a male, and the funeral director were allowed. When the deceased was of Jewish faith, another Jewish person was the only person allowed to be in attendance during the preparation of the body, but that was the only exception to the rule. Steinam Brothers catered mostly to the Jewish people of the community, but they also performed traditional embalming.

This man was not Jewish so according to law he had to be properly embalmed. If he had been Jewish, he would be preserved by refrigeration. The body would be cleansed by the male embalmer, with a Jewish male present. The body would then be wrapped in a shroud and placed in a simple pine coffin, to be buried beneath the ground within 24 hours. There would be no makeup applied to the body. There was no viewing, as in other funeral traditions.

If the family wanted a mausoleum constructed it was required that it be placed over the burial plot. The body of the deceased was not allowed to be interred above ground according to tradition. The Jewish people also observe Shiva, which means literally seven. The relatives of the deceased would receive friends, visit and hold prayers with them for seven days following the service.

Having worked many times at Steinam Brothers, Molly was well versed in the traditions of the faith, even though she herself was not a practitioner. She really didn't have any preference for a particular religion.

As Molly applied the antiseptic solution to the body to clean it, she wondered if this man would have many friends and relatives present at his service. She often found her mind wandering during those times when she was alone with a corpse. Sometimes she would sing softly to herself. Other times she would talk to the cadaver as if it would reply.

Molly had grown up in foster homes most of her life.

Her mother had been killed in a freak explosion at the hospital where she was a nurse. Molly was only six months old when she was whisked away to an orphanage in Lancaster. She never knew who her father was.

She would constantly hum a strange melody to herself. It was something her mother hummed to her as a newborn. It was a vague memory for a child of mere months.

Adopted when she was less than a year old to a well off couple in Los Angeles she wanted for nothing. All of her formative years she felt that something was missing but she didn't know what it was. The empty feelings stayed with her into her adult life.

She excelled in school and jumped two grade levels by the time she reached the sixth grade.

When she entered high school she was befriended by many of her classmates. Even so she felt that she didn't quite fit in.

She made the requisite incisions into the upper body near the clavicle and located the main vein using the aneurism tool. Carefully she cleaned around the vein and inserted the tube, clamping it off so the blood would drain from the body cavity. After making a similar incision near the clavicle on the opposite side, she proceeded to locate the artery and inserted the cannula tube, which was attached to the embalming machine. She clamped it off with the forceps. She stepped over to the machine and flipped the switch. The soft whirring of it filled the small room as it began to pump the liquid into the body.

As the fluid entered the prone form the blood began to flow through the drain tube. Molly methodically massaged the arms and lower legs with antibacterial soap to help evenly distribute the embalming fluid while flushing the blood out. Rigor had not fully set in. She could feel the muscles of his arms and legs as she rubbed her gloved hands over his skin. She knew nothing about this man, only that he had died from a fall while hiking in the nearby San Gabriel Mountains. It all seemed pretty cut and dry, and no autopsy was ordered due to the accidental nature of the death.

Eventually the liquid flowing from the drain tube began to run more pinkish than red. The embalming fluid was a pink color and signaled that the process was successful.

Molly carefully retracted the tube from the vein and stitched it closed. Dusting the site with the drying agent to be sure to seal the wound, she did the same with the cut in the artery. The incisions through the flesh were small enough that she could use the super glue to seal them after applying the drying agent. It provided a much tidier closure than using twine. That would come into play when she was finished with the torso.

She used the nozzle attached to the faucet on the nearby sink to rinse the table under the body, flushing the remaining blood down the drain. She then proceeded to clean the cannula and aneurism hook and placed them on folded towels to dry.

She hooked the trocar up to the hydro-aspirator and expertly inserted it near the navel to remove the inner soft organs. With that complete, she capped off the opening left by the insertion of the long tube. She proceeded to clean and disinfect the trocar.

She glanced up at the clock on the wall. So far it had only been forty five minutes since she had begun. It normally took anywhere from an hour to an hour and a half to perform a simple embalming, but she was in no hurry this evening. She was paid the same no matter how long it took to finish.

With the lower torso complete Molly moved on to the head. She was nearly done, just the final details and she could call it a night and get some much needed rest. She had already finished eight embalming procedures earlier that day, three here, and five at two other mortuaries. That was the one thing she liked about being a freelancer. She wasn't stuck working at the same place day in and day out. Her mentor and friend David Mohr had instilled that value in her. Freelance was definitely the way to go.

Stifling a yawn, Molly proceeded to pat the curly brown hair dry after she had cleansed it with germicidal soap. She used the scissors to neatly trim along the nape of the neck. As she was combing the hair into place and smoothing it with her other hand, she felt the baseball sized lump on top of his skull.

That's odd. She thought out loud. If he fell any distance and landed squarely on top of his head, not only would his skull be fractured and bloody. Who in the world lands head first from a hiking accident? Without further consideration she figured he must have hit his head on a rock. Oddly there was no blood from the wound.

His body had no other cuts or bruising. Molly shook her head and continued with the task at hand. Retrieving the eye caps from the utensil tray, she carefully lifted the closed eyelids and inserted the pieces under them. They covered his dark brown eyes and gave him the appearance of a zombie with no pupils-- until she closed the lids back over them and applied a few dots of super glue to keep them closed. The eye caps would keep the area from having a sunken look at the viewing in the morning.

She was yawning more frequently now and needed to get this one done and get home and rest. Tomorrow she had a busy schedule. There was no telling when she could receive a call on another case.

The curved needle was cold in her hand, even through the latex gloves. She threaded the string through its eye. Pulling his lower lip down, she inserted it through his jaw below the gums, then stuck it through the upper jaw into the right nostril. She proceeded through the septum of the nose into the left nostril. There she would pass it back down into the mouth to create a natural appearance. When she tried to push the needle through the septum of the nose, which is mere cartilage, it stopped with a tink. She slipped it back a tiny bit and tried to force it through. It wouldn't budge. There was something definitely metallic in the septum.

She wondered if this guy had perhaps broken his nose and had some type of metal structural piece inserted to hold the formation. That was something she had never heard of . . . using metal or even titanium prostheses in the nasal cavity.

She retracted the needle from the septum and carefully laid it against the chin. There was a portable x-ray scanner in the cabinet and she plugged it in. Hovering the device over the nose she saw it. There was something metallic but it wasn't a pin. It looked like some kind of flat circular microchip.

Molly's heart skipped a beat. She wasn't sure what it was. She knew it didn't belong there. She snatched the scalpel from the tray and carefully cut away a small portion of the septum where the metallic object was imbedded. It was about the size of an eraser head. When she cut away the cartilage surrounding it she discovered that it was no thicker than a dime. It appeared to be solid. Upon wiping it dry with the towel it was as bright and shiny as glass. She retrieved a small zip pouch and dropped it into the bag.

Outside something rustled through the bushes just along the side of the building. Molly heard a noise sounding distinctly like footsteps. She stopped cold in her tracks, still holding the bag in her hand. Her breath caught in her throat as she focused on the sound.

The handle on the outside door twisted. She stifled a scream. Maybe it was David coming to check on her. He would have called her on her cell phone though. He wouldn't just show up unannounced. Unconsciously she had rested her hand on the shoulder of the corpse, as if it would bring her a sense of comfort. She reached for the scalpel on the tray but could discern no other sounds in the blackening night. She knew the door was locked but she was uneasy nonetheless.

She stood there for what seemed like hours, listening, honing in on any disturbance from outside the tiny building. Fear washed over her as the deathly silence enveloped her. It's just your imagination you dingbat. She tried to reassure herself. You've been spending way too much time with dead bodies.

The little voice in her head warned her not to document the disk in her report. She slipped the little zipper bag into her pants pocket. This was something she had to show David. She would call him tomorrow. He would know what she should do.

With the scalpel within easy reach, she suddenly felt an urgent need to hurry and complete her task. She felt uneasy in her surroundings for the first time in the past three years. Shadows seemed to move in uncanny ways that she hadn't noticed before. She looked down at the corpse laying on the table. To her horror he seemed to be flashing a toothy grin in her direction. She quickly sutured the mouth shut and dotted super glue along the inner part of the lips. He won't smile now!

When she was finished dressing the cadaver she cleaned the remaining instruments. Using the nearby lift she hoisted the body into an ornate coffin and closed it. The temperature in the morgue was kept at a constant 40 degrees, but it suddenly seemed like it was below zero.

She removed her smock, face mask, and gloves and tossed them into the hazardous waste bin. Not wanting to linger any longer than necessary in the confines of the mortuary she quickly washed up and headed toward her waiting vehicle. She was thankful that there was a switch at the top of the stairs that controlled the lights in the stairwell and the embalming room. She had no intention of fumbling her way to the exit in the dark.

Turning the inner lock on the door as quietly as possible she cracked it open. The parking lot was dimly lit, casting macabre dancing shadows onto the pavement from the rustling trees overhead. She peeked through the narrow opening. Not hearing anything out of the ordinary she quickly slipped through the door and locked it from the outside. She resisted the urge to run frantically toward her car, but held her keys tightly in her hand to use as a weapon should anyone or anything jump out at her. She was not afraid to jam her car key into an attacker's eyes.

Nothing jumped. The night was as silent as a tomb. She unlocked the door and threw it open. With a sigh of relief she began to slide into the safety of the driver's seat.

A shadow crashed toward her just as she was lifting her leg into the car. She screamed and almost caught her foot in the door as she slammed it shut.

The shabby Siamese cat skittered across the hood of her car howling a mournful wail.

Oh crap! She leaned her head against the steering wheel as she turned the ignition. Just a cat. A lousy cat. And I almost had a heart attack! She sped out of the parking lot and into the still night of the city.

Chapter 2

Molly was attending her first year of medical school when she first met David Mohr. He was doing a demonstration for her embalming class at the Los Angeles County Coroner's Department. He was in his mid-forties. To a young woman of 22, he had projected a certain aura of wisdom and authority.

It could have been his thick Irish accent, or even the way his neatly trimmed beard hugged his chiseled chin. Molly had told herself that it was a purely academic attraction, but she couldn't help but blush when he looked her squarely in the eye.

David Mohr stood a good foot taller than her, with closely cropped salt and pepper hair. His emerald green eyes seemed to cut right through her when he looked in her direction.

While several of the other attendees from her class vomited or fainted, she was mesmerized by his expertise. The deftness he showed while performing the embalming and the way he treated the deceased body as if it were a patient still living peaked her curiosity and admiration.

As the other students filed out after the demonstration, Molly lingered behind, taking her time to remove her protective smock and face mask. She was full of questions.

Mohr had been enthusiastic in his demonstration, but even more so when one of the attendees, and a very beautiful one at that, stayed on to pick his brain. Molly's inquisitiveness was infectious.

Molly asked him countless questions about how he got his start working as an embalmer for the county while he went about tidying up the demonstration area. The afternoon waned into early evening. He asked her if she would like to continue their conversation over a light dinner. She didn't bother making lame excuses. He was easy to talk with so she readily accepted the invitation.

The seeds of their friendship were planted during that outing and continued to blossom throughout the subsequent three years.

Molly finished that year of her medical schooling, mainly not to lose her college credits if her venture into the world of mortuary science and embalming didn't pan out as she hoped. Her adoptive parents helped with expenses as best as they could. Her high grades throughout school had earned her a scholarship that bore the main weight of her college education, along with a smattering of student loans. She was still paying those off.

As it was she did exceptionally well learning the trade. With the continuous help of David Mohr and her diligent pursuit of knowledge, she quickly rose through the ranks. Upon completion of her internship under David's watchful eye she acquired a position at Sloan Mortuary. That job lasted around two years and she eventually ventured out as a freelancer. She made a considerable amount more as an independent contractor.

It also gave her the benefit of a flexible schedule which enabled her to continue taking college courses.

She and David kept in constant contact. On occasion they attended local conferences together.

Molly met his live-in girlfriend Melody, on a few of those occasions. As hard as she tried to be pleasant, she at times felt like she was bashing her head against a concrete wall with Melody.

They had been at a conference sitting together at one of the large round tables. David was expecting Melody to show up after she got off work late that evening. He had saved her a chair next to him. Molly was sitting directly to his right. They were in the middle of laughing heartily at a joke proffered by the speaker at the podium.

In the entire time since they had first met their relationship had always been strictly professional. Melody didn't see their companionship as that. The green eyed monster of envy was constantly rearing its ugly head when the three of them were in the same vicinity.

The monster struck with exceptional venom that particular evening when Melody sashayed into the room and saw David whispering something into Molly's ear.

I think he's being a little off subject. He was saying to Molly over the din of laughter filling the room.

As Murphy's Law would have it Melody just happened to enter at that very moment. She proceeded to walk up behind David and Molly and insert herself between them.

And what have I missed? She interjected a little too loudly.

David stood to pull her chair for her to sit, but when he did, she plopped into the seat he had vacated and shot dagger eyes at Molly.

You haven't missed a thing. David replied sternly and sat in the seat he had intended for her.

We were just laughing over the joke that Dr. Rensfield told. Molly attempted to diffuse the situation with a smile.

Humpf! Melody turned swiftly on David, her back to Molly. "Well, I'm glad you are having fun, darling. Would you mind ordering me a drink?" She eyed the cocktails sitting in front of them.

Molly could sense the uneasiness in David. It was almost as if she could see the hackles forming on the back of his neck. She couldn't understand how this intelligent handsome man could stand to be harangued by this women with so much anger and jealousy. She excused herself to visit the ladies' room.

Oh I'll accompany you. Melody jumped from her chair and tailed her into the plush lavatory lounge.

Molly had no intention of actually using the facilities, she only wanted to extract herself from the scene in the hope that Melody would mellow out in her absence. So much for that.

So, you and David seem to spend a lot of time together at these conferences. Melody spat at her. Doesn't your boyfriend get a little upset that you're never home? She was clearly fishing for information and Molly knew it.

I'm not seeing anyone. Molly replied as she touched up her lipstick. And David and I are colleagues, nothing more Melody. It was almost the truth.

Molly had developed a deep respect for David and at times she had wondered what it would be like if they took their friendship a step or two further. She never let on that she had anything more than a professional interest. She was not a home wrecker.

Even though she knew deep in her heart that she would give David more love and respect than this amazon, she kept her feelings to herself. As much as she wanted to gouge Melody's eyes out for being so hateful, she forced herself to remain neutral and try to keep the peace between them.

I'm so involved in work all the time. I don't have time for a relationship. She offered sweetly to Melody.

"Ha, I've heard that so many times from David, blah blah blah, too much work, teaching, blah blah, conferences, blah blah blah. But he seems to have time to entertain you at these conferences."

Look Melody I'm not interested in David or anyone else for that matter. All I care about is doing my job, and making my way peacefully through life. Molly was growing considerably weary of this conversation with a jealous woman. It was beginning to grind on her nerves.

I think we should get back to the table before David sends out search and rescue. She made a feeble attempt at humor.

Melody shrugged her shoulders dramatically and led the way through the ornate door and back down the hall to the main conference room.

I was beginning to wonder about you two. David joked when they returned to the table.

Oh everything's just fine. Molly replied. Melody only let out a semi audible snort.

Well it's been a long night and I'm really tired. I'm going to head out and get home and get some sleep. I've got an early case in the morning. Molly lied. All she wanted to do right now was separate herself from the situation. She didn't appreciate strained environments. Melody was the queen of strain right now.

Would you like me to walk you to your car? David offered as he stood.

Any other time Molly would have accepted but tonight she didn't feel like having her eyes clawed out. She politely refused and thanked him for the evening. As she walked away from the table toward the foyer she could hear the sounds of a heated discussion behind her. She was thankful that she wasn't going to have the kind of miserable night that it sounded like David was in for. She felt a twang of pity for him.

That was the last time she had seen him. Over month ago.

Chapter 3

Molly hadn't called David in that month's time. She half expected not to receive a call from him. The fear that engulfed her in the mortuary earlier that evening far out ranked any thoughts she had about Melody and jealousy.

She thought about whether she should call this late at night and decided it would be best if she waited until morning. No need to disturb him at this hour. She patted the pocket that held the zipper bag containing the little circular disk.

Steinam Brothers Mortuary was in Malibu along the Pacific Coast Highway. Her drive back into her Venice Beach apartment was always a pleasant jaunt along the coastline. The moonlight bouncing off the waves as they lapped at the beach down below always had a calming effect on her as she cruised down the winding highway toward home.

Tonight, at this late hour there were scarcely any cars on the twisting two lane highway. She reached to turn on the radio.

Something whooshed up from the ocean bank and grazed her passenger window with a loud thwack! It made no other sound and was past her in an instant.

She instinctively mashed on the brakes with both feet, thinking it was going to crash into her car. The rear tires locked and she skidded toward the edge of the road.

Her hands were clamped so tightly on the steering wheel that her knuckles turned a ghastly white.

When she stomped on the brake pedal she forgot to put the clutch in and downshift her Ford Mustang. The engine sputtered, choking to a stop just before it hit the guardrail with a resounding thump.

Momentarily forgetting what had caused her to crash, she bolted from the driver's seat and slammed the door shut as she skittered on the gravel to inspect the damage to the front of her car.

Sighing with relief that she hadn't done worse than scuff the plastic bumper, she went back to the side of the car and stood looking anxiously around.

The stillness of the night was broken only by the sound of the gentle lapping of the waves from the Pacific Ocean below the steep cliff.

She turned full circle, squinting into the moonless sky, searching for the thing that had darted past her. She had only seen the shadow as it dove past the passenger side of the vehicle. She knew it definitely wasn't a small bird. No. It was much bigger, too much bigger. She had felt the car rock as if it had been passed too closely by a huge semi-trailer.

She gazed around one last time before she climbed back into the driver's seat and hit speed dial for David's number.

With her car still butted against the guardrail, she tapped nervously on the steering wheel with her right hand as the ringing on the other end of the line shrilled in her left ear.

Almost in a trance, she pulled the phone away and smacked the button down on her door to lock it. As she put it back to her ear she could hear David's groggy voice on the other end . . .

"Hello? Molly? Are you there? Hello?"

The words tripped and tumbled from her mouth. David Oh God, I'm so sorry to bother you. I've just had an accident . . . Before she could continue, he interrupted her.

"Molly, are you okay? Are you hurt? What happened? Where are you? Do you need an ambulance?" What happened?"

. . . I'm okay, my car's okay, I wasn't going to call you until tomorrow morning, but something happened David, and I'm really scared. She heard Melody's voice in the background . . .

Who the hell is that?

Ignoring Melody's tirade she described the tiny disk she found in the body of the man she was embalming and finished by telling him about the strange thing that caused her to veer off the highway.

Tell me exactly where you are. I'll drive there right now! His voice took on a worried tone. He was fully awake now.

I'm okay. I'm really sorry for waking you up so late, but if you can, would you meet me at that all night diner over on Santa Monica Boulevard? She was now feeling guilty for having wakened him.

Don't apologize. Are you sure you're okay and your car is drivable?

Yes I'm sure.

Chapter 4

David climbed out of bed and began hurriedly dressing. Melody turned on the night lamp on her side of the bed and was sitting up glaring at him.

"I asked you who that was David! he spat at him. Who in the hell calls this late at night, and you just fly out of bed to go running off to who knows where?"

Look Mel it was Molly, the gal from the mortuary. She's been in an accident. She needs help.

Well, doesn't she have a relative she can call? Why does she have to call you?

Melody, something happened at the mortuary. She wrecked her car, and she's scared out of her wits. And, no. She doesn't have any relatives to call. Okay? I'm going to go see what's going on. That's the end of the discussion! He was becoming increasingly annoyed with her attitude.

Well let me go with you. She almost whined.

Not necessary. He was already headed down the stairs to his car.

David pulled into the parking lot of the diner and parked next to Molly's car. Stepping out into the brisk air, he walked around to the front and saw the deep scuff marks on the bumper. Good, it wasn't too bad. Thank God. It could have been much worse. You're going to have to tell her David. The voice in his head was flashing a bright neon warning.

He spotted Molly sitting in one of the booths next to the window of the brightly illuminated diner. She glanced out and immediately her face brightened when she saw him. He hurried in through the door and slid into the seat directly opposite hers.

David you have no idea how glad I am that you came. Molly was nervously wringing her hands over her cup of steaming tea. I'm really sorry for bothering you, but I didn't know who else to call. I don't know who I can trust!

He reached across the table and patted her hand. It's okay Molly. That's what friends are for. I'm here now. Let me get something to drink. Do you want anything to eat? Have you even eaten at all today?

Well actually I haven't. I'm really not hungry. The only reason I'm drinking tea is to try to calm my nerves. She attempted to put on her best 'I'm okay' smile.

The waitress came from behind the counter, and took David's order. He asked for a Pepsi and a blueberry muffin. It was delivered in less than five minutes. He hungrily devoured the muffin before he began speaking again.

You found this disk in the septum of the corpse you were preserving?

Yes. I was almost done finishing up. I got it out and put it in a little bag. These strange noises started outside. I got spooked. I didn't know what to do David. I put it in my pocket. Then when I went to my car. Oh my GOD, I was so scared. A cat jumped on my windshield. There were strange shadows all over. It was like they were trying to grab me . . .

David interrupted her.

Whoa there slow down. You're going to give yourself a coronary girl. You have it with you right now?

Yes, and David . . . I didn't put it in the pathology report. I really don't know why . . . Something just told me that I shouldn't. It . . . it . . . all seems so weird.

Well, that was good thinking on your part. And I'm glad you did call me. I may wind up going home to an empty house, but this is much more important. Your safety is much more important!

What do you mean my safety? Oh jeez I'm sorry. I didn't want to cause any trouble between you and Melody. I just didn't know what else to do.

"Don't worry about Melody. She'll either get over herself or she won't. I'm about fed up with her attitude lately anyway. And now after what you've told me, there are more important matters at hand. The