Carl Jenkins holds the coin toward the light. It's shiny surface marred with congealed blood from the dead woman's hand, smearing the images cast upon its surface. His mind is full of questions as he looks upon the body. With a sigh, he places the coin into the zip seal bag and continues with the autopsy.
"I wish you could talk, miss Casey Phillips."
"Hey, Carl," Jad says as he approaches his partner. Taking a large bite of his burger, he watches as Carl makes an incision in to the dead woman's stomach.
"Hi Jad." Looking up from the body, he gives his partner a disgruntled glare. "Damn it Jad. You know you can't eat in here!"
"Oops, sorry I forgot," he says with his mouth full. Looking over the body, Jad whistles. "Damn, this one was a real looker."
"Jad, get out." Shaking his head in disgust, Carl places the scalpel in the metal tray and breathes heavily. "I think I'm going to call it a night. Fuck it's been a long day!"
"Want me to put her in the cooler?"
Looking at the mayonnaise dripping down the palm of his partner's hand, Carl shakes his head.
"I'll do it. I think you'd better wash up or take that grease ball burger out of here before it drips on the floor."
After sliding the body into the refrigerated chamber, he slides the small rectangular name placard into the facial slot before he makes his way back to the examination room. Jad leans languidly against the bench, still eating his burger as Carl switches off the light to the cool room.
"Jad, for fucks sake!"
"What?"
"You're in a fucking mortuary..."
Ignoring the last comment, Jad picks up the clear bag containing the coin.
"What's this?" he asks while holding the bag high.
"I'm not sure. Her hand was clenched tight around it before I removed her fingers. What ever it is, it obviously meant a lot to her; there's an imprint of the shamrock on her palm."
"Looks valuable," Jad says, staring at the smeared picture of a leprechaun upon its surface.
* * * * * * *
Emily sits transfixed, staring at the ouija board in front of them. A chill runs up her spine as Julie begins the chant.
"From the shadows of darkness, I call upon ye. Present us with your form so that we may see." Julie's voice raises to fever pitch as a wind picks up inside the apartment. "Show us! Damn you! Come forth from the grave!" Almost screaming, her eyes roll back inside her head as she curls her palms upward. "Casey Phillips, we demand you to show what you gave!"
The flickers from the candle flames whisk against a torrent of air. An eerie howl fills the room as each feels a chill wash over them, sending a ripple of goose-bumps surfacing and covering their skin.
"We call upon you Casey Phillips, show your true form!" Julie's voice raises above the loud whirl of the wind circling inside the room. Opening her eyes, Emily looks around nervously. "He took your soul and left your body torn."
"Stop!" Emily shouts over the howl of the wind. "I can't take anymore!" With sobs racking her body, she releases her grip on Jacinta's hand, who sits bewildered beside her.
"It's too late," Julie mouths, with the voice of their dead mother. The three-legged planchette spins wildly on the opened board, as the group look upon it in awe.
Moving without a hinder, the planchette moves across the board, moving over the letters... L... e... p... . The wind dies to a subtle breeze as the group gaze upon the board, both in shock and sheer wonder.
"Emily!" Julie shouts as she breaks from the group.
"Damn you Julie!" Emily sobs. "She was as much a mother to me as she was to you!"
The flutter of the curtains dies to a gentle waft as the room gradually brightens. Silence fills the room as the group gaze upon Emily's sobbing form. Raising to her feet, Julie envelopes Emily in her arms.
"I know," she hums, her voice suddenly returning to normal as she strokes her surrogate sister's hair. "I'm sorry Emily. I know mum's death was a shock."
As her sobs border on forming hiccups, Emily cries against her sister's shoulder.
"I... I have something to show you," Emily says as she chokes back the tears. "I took it from Dad's briefcase this morning."
Their father, a highly ranked police officer, in charge of protecting artifacts to be held and used as evidence in court, rarely bought items home. Too grief stricken over his wife's death to handle the case professionally, he'd carelessly broken almost all rules as he'd slipped the coin from the specimen tray and erased all records of its existence from the books.
"I have a coin that was taken from Mum's hand," Emily continues. "From the notes and carbons Dad tore from the book, it plays a major part leading up to her death."
