I nod. “I would disagree, but I understand if you feel you can’t—”
“No.” The word comes out sharp. “I do not wish you to understand, Casey. I can care for him. In his current state, a hospital could do nothing for him that I cannot. Moreover, here, he can receive the undivided attention of staff at all hours, and if he comes to require more than we can offer, I can personally arrange a discreet transfer to a Vancouver facility.”
“Okay…”
“The problem is that I don’t want that.”
I lean against the counter. “You don’t want the burden of his care. You have enough to do here, so we’d understand—”
“No. It is not a burden. It’s that I do not want the responsibility for his care. I wish to transfer it to someone else. My expectations for a full recovery are low, and I wish to make that someone else’s responsibility. I want to spare myself the guilt of feeling as if I could have done more.”
“Ah. Well, I’d rather have spared myself the guilt of not acting fast enough to save Jay. Or not figuring out how to save Sophie.”
“This isn’t about you, Casey.”
“No, it’s not. I’m making a point. We are all going to second-guess here. What if Diana had alerted us when Jay first removed the restraints? What if we’d sedated Sophie right away? What if I didn’t break the damn needle injecting it? What if I’d shot her before she strangled Jay?”
“Yes, you should have shot—”
I lift a hand. “Really not what I need right now, April.”
She hesitates and then nods. “I apologize. I would have preferred you’d shot her sooner, but I understand that you made the choice you thought was correct.”
I try not to stiffen at that. She doesn’t mean an insult. I just hear “you thought” more emphatically than she says it.
“However,” April continues, “I’m not sure what this has to do with my situation.”
“I’m questioning what I did. You’re questioning what you will do—and leaning toward the path of least resistance.”
She snaps upright, her eyes narrowing. I meet her gaze with a level stare and, after a moment, she gives a sharp nod.
r /> “All right,” she says. “I accept that assessment. That is why I’m consulting with you. I needed to know whether my fears were justified.”
“I think you’ve already answered that.”
“I am attempting, Casey, to admit that my assessment of my abilities can be overly confident, and therefore I’m seeking your advice.”
I walk to Jay and look down at his unconscious form. “This man is alive because of you. Saving him would have been well beyond my medical skill set and Will’s. Yes, you have an ego, but you’ve earned it. Male surgeons have plenty of it. We just aren’t as accustomed to seeing it from women.”
“Why?” she asks, and it’s a genuine question.
I shrug. “Confidence is attractive in men. Humility is attractive in women. Not saying that’s right—it just seems to be how it is. If there is nothing more that a hospital could do for him, then I will tell the council you’ve offered to care for him. Ultimately, the choice is theirs.”
She nods. “Then I am offering.”
“And I will let you know what they say. For now…” I look from Jay to the three bodies on the floor to the open storage room door. “We need to look after Sophie. She deserves that much.”
* * *
There will be no autopsy for Sophie. Possibly no grave either, beyond the one we will place her in once the ground thaws. Sometimes it is possible to return people to their loved ones. Sometimes it is not.
When residents come, they must answer that question in advance. If you die before your release, do you want us to attempt to return your body? Most say no. I suspect their loved ones would be appalled, but that’s really who a grave is for, isn’t it? Those who loved us and wish to have a place they can visit, knowing we are there. Except we aren’t. We are dust and earth, and it would make more sense to visit us through photographs and letters and memories.
Returning a body isn’t easy. Before residents leave for Rockton, they can only tell friends and relatives that they’re “going away.” That means we can’t ship the family a covered casket and expect them to accept it without question. When residents insist on their body going home, it’s “found” in another location, through an anonymous tip. I apologize to any police department that has to deal with that particular mystery.
Fortunately, that hasn’t happened since I’ve been here. We’ve had only one natural death, an older woman with no remaining family … because she’d murdered her husband. As for the victims of violence? There’s no way to send them home even if they wished it. I would never inflict that on a family … or a police department.
The most we can do for Sophie is return her to where her companions lie. That’s partly consideration—at least she’ll rest among friends—but it’s practicality, too. When people come searching, if they do somehow find the grave, at least the bodies will be together.