Touched by Death Read online

  Dane closed his eyes as terrible images flooded his mind. He couldn't imagine the horror. "I wasn't judging. I just can't envision what you went through. And to think of children sitting there, so lost and alone... Well...it's a terrible thought."

  Shadows darkened John's eyes. Dane was sorry for what John had been through. "That's the thing about family." Dane patted John on the shoulder and noticed his brother cringe.

  "So you think this guy should be allowed to come in and remove his kin?" John wasn't backing away from this one.

  "I don't have any say in this. I wasn't aware that you did, either. I'm sure this man has already gone through the authorities. I'd suggest that you accept that this is going to happen whether you want it to or not. The team of specialists is going to be here soon. When they arrive, be nice to them. Helpful. They will probably be there for a day or two, a week or two max. Then they'll be gone, leaving the others to rest in peace."

  "It's not that easy."

  "I know. There are other people with loved ones in that grave. Maybe someone should suggest that all the victims be identified and even..." Dane pursed his lips and nodded his head, pleased with his idea. "Reburied properly. This guy has money. Maybe some of it should be put toward assisting the community to help them deal with disaster."

  John shook his head. "You don't understand the full scope of the problem here. There could be hundreds of bodies there. We just kept putting them in then piling dirt and rocks on top to make sure they weren't disturbed. We probably went overboard on that part."

  Dane blanched. "Hundreds?" He swallowed heavily. "Okay so maybe the team will need a little longer. Still something could be done for the other remains." Dane winced. "Or at least the remains they can find and identify while they search for the ones they are shipping back to Seattle."

  John stared at him, and gulped. "That's not helping."

  "Yeah. I know. Sorry about that."

  The two men stared at the half-completed building in front of them. Dane took an involuntary step back. Right now the damn thing resembled a skeleton reaching out of the ground.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Jade groaned and closed her eyes. Saturday and still she'd awakened early. What was the point of having a morning to sleep in if her body didn't get the memo? Sometimes life just sucked.

  Surprisingly, she drifted back to sleep.

  The phone woke her hours later. She stretched out an arm trying to find the phone without having to disturb her comfortable position. "Hello," she mumbled.

  "Jade, I let you push me off last night, but not today." Duncan spoke hurriedly. "This guy with the job wants an answer and he wants one now. It's important. Are you awake?"

  Jade huddled deeper under covers. "No. I don't want to hear it. Leave me alone."

  "Not going to happen. I'm coming over," he said tightly. "Get up and have a shower. I'll bring the coffee. Be there in twenty." The phone cut off.

  Jade rolled over on her back and stared at the ceiling. What the hell?

  Twenty minutes later, she slipped on socks just as the doorbell rang. Opening the door, hairbrush in hand, she frowned. Her brother wasn't alone.

  A thin man of average height and wearing coke bottle glasses stood beside Duncan. He had a thick folder in his hands.

  Damn it. She glared at her brother, snagged one of the coffee cups out of his hand and turned her back on them.

  "Don't worry about her. She's always grumpy in the morning." Duncan motioned the stranger inside. "This is Tony Maholland, by the way. Tony, my sister, Jade."

  Jade shot her brother an irritated look. Good manners dictated she at least smile politely at the man standing awkwardly behind Duncan. Exasperated, she said, "Oh, come in and sit down, for heaven's sake. You're giving me a kink in my neck."

  "Jade, be nice. Good thing I warned Tony about you."

  "Why?" she shot back, leading the way to the small kitchen. "You aren't being nice to me."

  Duncan pulled out a chair for Tony, who was standing uncomfortably beside them. He twisted a second one around and sat down on it backwards to face her. "Everything I do is because I love you. We don't always know what we need in life and sometimes, loving someone means making the hard choices for them."

  She glared at him, her instincts on high alert. She wasn't going to like what was coming. Duncan never backed away from a fight and he'd always been the kind of brother to lead her down the right path – whether she wanted to go there or not.

  "Jade, I need to talk to you. And I need you to listen."

  "I don't think I want to."

  Compassion filled his eyes and her brother leaned toward her. Instinctively she pulled back slightly. Wary. Duncan was a counsellor – helping people was his passion. He couldn't help himself. She loved him but hated when all that do-gooder energy was turned her way.

  "I want you to go back to Haiti. And Tony will help you get there."

  Jade's heart dropped, her stomach clenched and tears welled in her eyes. "No," she whispered. "I can't go back."

  "I'll even go there with you."

  Wordless, Jade stared at her beloved brother. He would too. She knew he'd drop everything to help her get through this.

  He reached over and placed his hand on her knee and squeezed gently. "You have to deal with this. Only then will you be able to move on."

  "Haiti? But that's where it all started." She stared down at her clenched fists. How did going back make any sense?

  Duncan caught and held her hands in his. "I know."

  His words, so simple and so powerful. And so not helpful.

  "Excuse me." Tony leaned forward, his gaze shifting between the two of them. "Duncan, I can see this is personal and I can't begin to understand what's really going on here, but I'm not sure she's the right person for the job. We need someone who can handle themselves down there – not people carrying personal baggage."

  Jade agreed.

  Duncan, however, grinned over at the stranger. "Well put Tony, however remember everyone has baggage. At least with my sister's you will know up front what the problem is. So this is the scoop. My sister went down to Haiti as a part of the Disaster Mortuary Operations Response Team. She was there precisely three weeks. She endured physical attacks on her person, unbelievable emotional trauma due to the massive number of deaths she had to deal with and her spirit took a major hit. The experience changed her. It was if she'd been touched by Death, himself." With an apologetic look at Jade, he continued, "She was pregnant at the time. When she came home, her fiancé wasn't into dealing with it and he bolted. About three weeks after his departure, she lost the baby."

  Jade winced. Duncan hadn't said anything wrong; he hadn't exaggerated or minimized the truth – however, laid bare like that, even she could see that although life had been shitty, it was something she should have, and still could recover from.

  If she cared to.

  Her soul was weary. That was close to explaining the way she felt. She'd been unprepared for the horror and devastation in Haiti. The need and desperation of the people. Her inability to fix...any of it.

  The normalcy of her existence after her return home had only amplified it. Her guilt. Her failure. Her life.

  "She's always a professional. That's not going to be an issue. Haiti, itself, wasn't the problem – it started the problem. She has to face Haiti. Before her depression declines into something more than she can deal with. Besides she's got the perfect skill set and experience, as you well know. Plus she's available on short notice."

  Depression? She stared at him, her attention snagging on that one word. That was it. One simple word? Then she remembered a period in Duncan's life, just after their father died. She'd been away in college several years by that time, buffered from the emotional element, but Duncan had been there taking the full blast of guilt from her father's suicide.

  "Is that w
hat you felt?" She hadn't known. Not really. How could she have? To understand such darkness, such sadness in others she had to have experienced these emotions first herself. Shit. So typical. Was everyone blind to what didn't immediately affect them? Duncan had had it hard then too – and she hadn't noticed.

  "Oh yes. The thing is, Sis, you can honor the grief you feel for the loss of your child, and the horror you felt for all those people in Haiti, but you can't let this beat you. You need to pick yourself up and grab hold of the reins of your life. Reacting to a stimulus is one thing…wallowing is another thing entirely. When you know what you're doing and choose to do nothing, then..." He sat back, his gaze warm and caring. "Whereas Tony is offering you a chance to step up and out of this place...and move forward."

  Tony leaned forward. "Uh, maybe I'm offering this chance."

  Duncan and Jade ignored him.

  Jade traveled from one realization to another as they slid through her, lighting all the dark places she'd clung to in her mind. Her grief was real and was valid. Her distress was also justified. She had a right to feel the way she did. Validation was empowering. Her anger at her fiancé wasn't something she had a problem honoring… Still not doing something about this hollowness inside ... Duncan was right... That was not acceptable.

  She sat back as understanding dawned. "And...now that I do know...and don't do anything about it...it's self-pity?"

  He grinned, pride and love shining at her. "Exactly. And now that you do know, you can't continue on the same path. And by your own words..."

  She winced, hearing her voice from past conversations. "I don't do self-pity." She closed her eyes and dropped her head back. "Not fair. I don't know that I can do Haiti again."

  "Maybe this time, you could see the healing. The people who have turned their lives around and moved on. You could find the positive and let that heal you too."

  She groaned. "You're so into that new age mumbo jumbo."

  "It's me."

  She couldn't argue that. Abruptly, she turned to face Tony. "What's the job?"

  Surprised, and looking a little disturbed, he answered, "My client wants to retrieve three members of his family from a mass grave and bring them home. The team leader on the project is Dr. Bruce McLeod."

  "Mass grave?" That didn't bother her. She'd done those before. It was true, she knew she handled death well. She just didn't handle the 'people dying' part so well – especially on a large scale...well. "How mass?"

  He peered over the rim of his glasses. "We have it on good notice that there are close to a hundred people buried in a grave outside of Jacmel."

  Jacmel. She wracked her head for the little geographical information she'd allowed to rattle around inside. The opposite side of Port-au-Prince to where she'd been last time. Where her life had been flattened. "Is his family Haitian?"

  Tony tilted his head, a curious look on his face. "Yes. Does it matter?"

  "No. Identification would be easier if we're looking for three Caucasians in a mix of dark-haired Haitians, for example. After a year, there is likely to be hair still attached, making identification easier."

  "My understanding is that the grave contains mostly locals with a few tourists that were there at the time."

  She nodded. She liked the idea of doing something to help someone. This could work. Close to – but not the same as – what she'd been through before. She'd been stronger going into it then. But she'd also been unprepared. She'd be neither of those things this time.

  "How long?"

  "As long as it takes to get the job done. My client isn't worried about the cost, within reason, and he's willing to have the other bodies in the grave identified and processed along with his family. The team will leave the information with whatever officials there are in place to help identify those victims. The families will then have the choice of what to do."

  "That's generous. What about reburial of the others for the families with no money?"

  Tony grimaced. "This is obviously a sensitive issue and we're working toward a happy resolution for everyone. It may not be possible to identify everyone and it's quite possible that many, if not all, of those people will need to be reburied in the same grave. And though he's generous, the expenditures must fit in his budget."

  Duncan leaned back and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his faded jeans. "Whew. That's going to be some job."

  Shooting him a mocking look, Jade asked, "Still willing to come with me?"

  He brightened. "Absolutely. I can travel and socialize while you work."

  Her leg shot out and connected with his ankle.

  "Hey, I was just kidding." He shifted out of the way, sending her an injured look.

  The happy relief in his eyes made her realize just how much he was hoping she'd come around to his way of thinking. "You'd better be."

  "If I could give you a few more details," Tony interrupted. "You'd be leaving in one week. The plan is to give it three months and reassess. We've been assured this is a decent time frame for our needs. There could be some adjustment down the road, depending on the progress." He glanced down at his notebook. "Of course…as I said there is a budget in place. So..." He narrowed his gaze at her. "We'll work out many of the details over there."

  "I have a job here, remember? I'd have to give notice…not to mention I'd have the problem of no job when I come home." She frowned. She couldn't walk out on her boss on short notice like that. Neither could she afford to be jobless when she returned in three months. Relief swept through her. There's no way she could go. She opened her mouth to say just that when Duncan spoke first.

  "Now don't be getting mad, Jade, however, I've spoken with Gerard already after Tony and I discussed the issue in greater depth."

  "You what?" Her voice came out as an incredulous squeak. "You called my boss? Are you nuts? I'm lucky he didn't fire me yesterday."

  Duncan grinned. "On the contrary. And don't forget, he and I go way back. He actually liked the idea. He thought this placement might just do the trick for you."

  Now her astonishment turned to anger. Like a too old rubber band, her emotions seemed to stretch thin and snap easily. "I don't like you talking about me behind my back."

  "Then don't act in such a way that the people who care about you feel they need to get involved secretly."

  "Whatever." She shot him a fulminating look. Why did big brothers only come in arrogant, high-handed models? Her anger flowed until he spoke again.

  "He cares and so do I. The bottom line is you can leave for three months and your job will be here when you get back."

  Her protests died on her tongue. She was too weary to continue the fight. A fight she knew he'd win. He loved her. It was hard to argue with her self-proclaimed saviour. Besides, he was right. She couldn't continue on the same self-destructive path. Someone had to do something.

  That someone had been him.

  Now it was up to her.

  ***

  Dane walked toward the main house, tucking his t-shirt into faded jeans, admiring the play of the sun on the bright trumpet-like flowers bouncing in the breeze. Haiti had a lot to offer. At least this area. The countryside was green and lush, the rolling hills and white beaches some of the nicest he'd ever seen. The people were wholesome and strong in faith even after the disasters they'd faced. He'd loved his time here.

  It was coming to an end; he knew that. His future didn't lie here. He knew he'd wake up one day and know it was time to go home. He hoped it would be after the birth of his niece or nephew.

  "Aren't you up early today?" His brother's voice came from the vicinity of the patio.

  "Look who's talking." Dane grinned at his brother, unshaven and tousled, huddling over a large mug of coffee. "Bad night?"

  "Tasha said the baby was playing soccer with her bladder all night. She must have gotten out of bed a dozen times.
"

  Dane barely held in his laughter. "Ah the joys of impending fatherhood." He walked toward the kitchen door. "Did you leave any coffee in the pot?"

  "I left some. I don't know that Tasha did."

  Dane grimaced. Tasha was pretty reasonable most of the time, but he'd been witness to a few of her 'I'm pregnant, don't mess with me' moments. And they seemed to be more frequent now. He stuck his head inside first, gauged the small room to be empty and strode over to the coffee pot where he quickly grabbed a cupful and made a fast exit.

  Back outside, his brother was chuckling. "Made it I see. She's gone back to bed, anyway, so I imagine you're safe enough."

  "You could have told me that before I went in there thinking I was risking my life." Dane pulled over the second wooden chair and sat down to enjoy the morning.

  "Nah, if I have to risk my life, you might as well, too."

  "There's a brother for you." The two sat in companionable silence. Dane marveled at a location where the weather sat every day at a comfortable seventy-five to eighty degrees. He knew it fluctuated sometimes, but during his stay it had been remarkably consistent.

  Suddenly, Tasha stormed outside, the door slamming behind her. Dane took one look at the building fury on her face, blinked and turned slightly away. John was going to have to deal with this one.

  "They can't come. You tell them they can't do this. It ain't right." She shifted into a spat of guttural Creole, making Dane grateful for his less than rudimentary understanding of the language.

  John closed his eyes briefly then opened them and faced his Haitian wife while Dane looked on. "Now, honey. We've been over this. Just because I say they can't come isn't going to stop them."

  "Why not? That property is ours."

  "No, it's not." John's weary voice went over ground that he had obviously covered many times. Dane took a sip of coffee and tried not to show any interest. Tasha's black hair stood on end; her face was puffy, her dark skin splotchy. Her large belly, covered by an old stretched t-shirt that hung low, covered the bulk of the goofy boxer shorts she wore. Dane had seen other pregnant women, just none that reacted like Tasha. The longer he stayed, the more he worried about his sister-in-law's mental and emotional health. John never seemed to notice. Love had to be blind.