Funter Bay, Alaska
His body had been placed into a black zippered bag. Deb stared in revulsion as the object went past her and out the door.
“As a doctor I’ve seen hundreds of dead bodies, but none left me feeling as cold as …” she didn't finish.
The sheriff looked at her, closed his notepad, hesitated, and then placed a hand on her shoulder. “You did well.”
“I don’t feel like it.”
“You never do.”
“Are you going to file a report?”
“Yes.”
“Will they arrest …” her question hung in the air.
His face was lined from years on the job - his eyes hooded by overgrown eyebrows. With them he looked her straight in the eye. “Not on my watch.”
She nodded and wrapped her arms tight across her chest. Quietly, she replied. “Thank you.”
“If it helps” he continued his direct gaze “I’d have done the same thing.”
Deb didn't respond. The weight of it all hung on her.
He continued, “I’m sorry we can't stay longer but …” he looked out the window at the approaching sunset, and then began gathering his equipment to leave.
“I understand.” A shiver coursed over her.
“You going to be okay?” He paused in the doorway.
Deb shrugged her shoulders.
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