by Irving Munro
“Fuck!” he roared, “This is bullshit!” A Jedi warrior would never have been caught so unaware. “Fuck!” he roared again.
Tommy ran back to the cruiser, grabbed a towel that he kept in a sports bag in the trunk and dried himself off as best he could. He had a strange feeling that all was not right at this house. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but his sixth sense was kicking in.
“Detective Hardwick? Officer Ross here. I’m over at the McCord place and everything seems fine, but I have a funny feeling,” said Tommy.
“A funny feeling? What the heck is a funny feeling, Tommy? I just asked you to check the place out, not do a mind meld with it!”
Stan Hardwick knew about Tommy’s exploits in other galaxies and being a Star Trek aficionado himself was pleased with his Mr. Spock reference. He knew Tommy was a good deputy and had potential but he could turn a case of simple traffic congestion on FM620 into the precursor of a Dark Star invasion.
“Have you checked every point of access into the property and ensured everything is secure?” asked Jim.
“I’ll do another 360, Detective Hardwick and give you an update ASAP,” replied Tommy. He climbed out of the cruiser and went back down the driveway to the house.
“What if there is an alarm system?” thought Tommy. “I better get that checked out before I go further.”
He called Celia Brown on his radio. “Hey Celia, I’m out at Riverside at 2016 Braker Lane. Do we have any record with the alarm companies on this property?
Celia had recovered from her earlier melt down and recognized the location based on what she had overheard when Bill Andersen had been in the office earlier. “I don’t have any paperwork on this, Tommy!” announced Celia, feeling that wonderful tingle of administrative power course through her veins.
“Come on, Celia. Stan asked me to check it out on the QT. Be an angel and check the security records, please.”
The please did it.
“OK, Tommy. Just for you and since you asked so nice, let me check. Yes, there is a security service on the property. It’s a division of Time Warner and I have the number here. Let me call them.”
Tommy could hear Celia on the other line with the security service.
“This is Celia Brown for the Travis County Police Department. I can see from our records that you provide security services for the home at 2016 Breaker Lane in North West Austin. Yes, that’s the one. A violation last night you say? And it will be OK for the officer to proceed ahead? OK, thank you. I’ll tell him.”
Celia came back on the line with Tommy to update him on the call.
“It seems that there was a systems failure on this property last night and they’ve been trying to reach the owner, Jim McCord, on his cell phone with no success. So they said that there is no risk that you will trigger an alarm as it’s already down.”
“Thanks Celia,” said Tommy.
“The security system went down yesterday?” muttered Tommy. “Now that’s a strange coincidence.” Tommy suspected intergalactic interference and immediately looked to the sky. He decided that proceeding with caution would be the best approach.
Tommy went down the right side of the house and then circled around to the guesthouse. The gate between the guesthouse and the main house was locked securely, so there were no problems there. He walked around the guesthouse to the path, leading to the boathouse. He could see a Malibu Wakesetter ski boat up on the powerlift by the dock.
“These people have real money!” thought Tommy. “One day, I’ll be able to have a boat on Lake Austin, invite my buddies and their girlfriends, have a few beers and go wakeboarding on the lake.” For a moment, he was lost in the dream and could taste the beer and tequila shots. A smile of anticipation crossed his face.
Tommy continued around to the other side of the house where he had a great view of the pool, deck area, and BBQ station. And that’s when he saw her. She was stretched out on a recliner under the awning. She wore a brilliant white cotton dress that reflected the light of the setting sun. A large brimmed sun hat was down over her face and Tommy could barely pick out that she was wearing a pair of large round designer sunglasses like movie stars wore. By her side, resting on the terracotta deck and just beyond the reach of her right hand as it dropped down lazily from the recliner was a bottle of wine and a wine glass.
“Ma’am! Travis County Police! Is everything OK?” yelled Tommy.
No response. It was eerily silent. No music, nothing to disturb the serenity of the moment. Tommy thought that a little odd given the idyllic setting as she watched the sunset over the hills beyond the lake. If it had been him, he would have had some smooth soul playing in the background. He knew, however, that many people just preferred silence.
“Ma’am, are you OK? I was just passing on my route and your neighbor asked that I check on you.”
Still no response.
The gates were locked and Tommy was unsure about hopping over the fence. He didn’t want to scare her and there could be a guy around somewhere and weapons in the house, so no need to take any chances.
It was a big pool, and she was perhaps 150 feet away. Tommy tried to get a better look and inched himself up on to the railing that surrounded the pool to prevent kids from accidently falling in.
“Hey Lady!”
Still no response.
Suddenly, Tommy had a moment of genius. Relying on the skills that he learned as a pitcher in high school, he picked up a rock, went into his wind up and sent a fastball into the pool. It landed perfectly and sent a spray of chlorine water all over her.
Nothing.
At that, Tommy thought it best to run back to the cruiser and update Stan Hardwick.
“Get over that fence and go check it out!” yelled Stan after Tommy updated him.
Tommy ran back around the house, jumped the fence and drew his weapon. He slid along the wall of the main house, his eyes darting from side to side looking for any possible threat. He couldn’t see her from where he was but he knew that she would be around the next corner under the awning, between the pool and the BBQ.
He rounded the corner and there she was. “Ma’am, Travis County Police!”
Still no response.
He inched his way towards the awning. His heart was pounding now as he suspected that all wasn’t right. Step by step, he moved slowly towards her, his eyes darting from side to side looking for any sudden movement.
Inside a minute, he was by her side. Tommy gently lifted the wide brimmed sun hat from her head and her beautiful blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders and down over the sides of the recliner like molten gold. She was spectacularly beautiful. The only blemishes on an otherwise perfect face were her dead milky white eyes that stared unflinchingly at the setting sun. Looking but not seeing eyes that would never see anything ever again.
Chapter 3 - Reese
2005 - The Initial Investigation
Tommy knelt down next to the body and called Stan on the radio. “Detective Hardwick, we have a dead Reese Witherspoon look-alike out here! The place is locked up tight and there’s no one home. She’s just laying here like she walked down from her bedroom, grabbed a bottle of Chardonnay and lay down to watch the sun go down. What now?”
“OK, I’ll call EMS and I’ll be there as soon as I can,” said Stan. “You hold down the fort, Tommy. We’ll need to secure the area but wait to do that until I get there. We can work the scene together.”
The radio went silent as the sun sank below the horizon, prompting the cicadas to begin their evening chorus. Tommy went and sat by “Reese.”
~
Bill Andersen had been running constant surveillance on the McCord place since he returned from the police station at Hudson Bend. Bill had his binoculars and was standing on his back deck like German Panzer Commander Erwin Rommel searching for any sign of General Patton coming over the horizon. He had seen Tommy arrive in the cruiser. His view had been partially obscured by the cedar trees that grew in the greenbelt between his p
roperty and the McCord’s, but he had seen most of Tommy’s investigative efforts.
“Damn it, Ethel, I told you there was something going on over there!” snorted Bill.
“So? What were you going to do? Stagger over there and attack whoever was there with your empty bottle of Jack? Sometimes, Bill Andersen, I despair!” said Ethel as she went back into the house to continue preparing their supper.
Fifteen minutes later, the EMS arrived in their distinctive blue and yellow truck. Their sirens and flashing lights alerted everyone in the neighborhood that something unusual was going on. Everyone came out on to their front yards or walked the street to try to get more information. By this time, Bill Andersen had joined his neighbors and was explaining to anyone who would listen, the vital role that he had played in the day’s events.
Stan Hardwick arrived in his unmarked, standard issue, Ford Crown Victoria cruiser.
“Keep these people back!” barked Stan.
Tommy took the roll of crime scene tape, tied it to a large oak tree to the left of the McCord residence and around the mailbox to the right in an attempt to keep the driveway clear. He took another length of tape and strung it around several trees and on to the gate at the side of the pool entrance. After all this was done, some neighbors still needed to be politely pushed behind the line so EMS could get on with their work.
Marla Edwards, the head paramedic on the EMS team, stepped forward, placed her equipment bag by the side of the recliner and began her examination of the body, recording everything as she went. Later in the day, this first responder record would be delivered with the body to the medical examiner. There were no obvious signs of any trauma. There was no blood or any other body fluids that had stained the white cotton dress. Marla confirmed what they all already knew: the beautiful lady lying on the recliner was dead. Other than that, there was nothing obvious to suggest how she died. That would be the job of the medical examiner to figure out. She did note however that there was substantial bruising on both arms and that on the right arm there appeared to be needle marks.
Stan looked down at “Reese” and said, “What a beautiful woman! Why would anyone want to do this?”
Stan got on the radio and asked for more resources to get out to Riverside to help. Dispatch confirmed that Detectives Marie Mason and George Turner were on their way.
One of the EMS team was trying to adjust the recliner so that the body was horizontal.
“Don’t do that!” yelled Stan, “We need to take photographs of the crime scene before anything is touched. Marla, if you are done with your initial examination, please take your team back to your truck. We will call you back down here when we are done with our work and you can then take the body to the ME.”
Stan Hardwick hated to use the term Jane Doe.
“Tommy, this woman is far too beautiful to be called Jane Doe. I hate that term anyway. What was the name you used earlier when you discovered the body and called me?” said Stan.
“Reese Witherspoon. Last weekend, I had a date with a girl from Cedar Park and we went to the movies and saw Just Like Heaven. Reese Witherspoon played the lead. The minute I took the sun hat from the dead woman’s head and saw how beautiful she was, I thought of Reese Witherspoon,” replied Tommy.
“Then Reese it is. We’ll call her Reese until we know her true identity,” said Stan.
Reese had a French manicure on her fingers and toes and her makeup was perfect apart from a pair of water blotches on her cheeks caused by Tommy’s pitch hitting the pool. Her white cotton dress had been recently laundered and her hair looked like she had just come from a salon. A bottle of wine and a wine glass were adjacent the recliner. They were in the perfect location by her right hand and the glass contained a small quantity of wine and red lipstick on the rim. It was as if she had poured a glass, drank a mouthful, put the bottle and glass down on the tile and lay back to enjoy the sunset. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble and effort to ensure that she looked radiant and it had worked. What they were to discover later about Reese would not align with this degree of care and concern.
Another unmarked Crown Victoria pulled up alongside the EMS truck. Marie Mason and George Turner made their way passed the truck and down the driveway. They met up with Stan and Tommy in the backyard.
“Fabulous home,” said Marie as she scanned the back yard.
“A little more than you can afford Marie,” replied Stan. “Glad you guys could join us. Let’s get to work.”
They measured, sketched, and photographed everything that seemed to be relevant.
Marie checked out the main house and the guesthouse. They were both locked. They would get permission from the owners later to gain access and check the inside of each building.
George Turner was assigned the remainder of the yard down to the lakeshore including the boat dock. Nothing looked out of place. He searched the walkway from the dock to the pool, including the immediate surrounding area and nothing seemed out of place there either.
Stan and Tommy concentrated on Reese and the recliner. They speculated that the killer must have prepared her somewhere else and brought her there. It looked like she had been dressed just prior to being placed on the recliner. How could the killer have done that?
George Turner was the forensics expert on the team. After all measurements and photographs had been taken, he went over the recliner for any sign of fingerprints. The dead woman’s body would be fingerprinted at the ME’s office later.
There were no fingerprints found on the recliner. This suggested that it had been cleaned, as it would have been unreasonable not to find any prints on this piece of poolside furniture that was in regular use. George then asked that everyone leave the back yard area and he walked it off looking for any evidence that looked unusual and may have been left by the killer. Nothing was found.
With their investigation complete, Stan and George Turner gave clearance to the EMS team to remove the body. With the body gone, George went over the recliner one more time. Still no fingerprints were found.
Chapter 4 - Jim McCord
2005 - The Initial Investigation
The next day, Reese was laid out on a cold, steel table in the Travis County forensics lab. Stan Hardwick looked on as Sven Stevenson, the Travis County medical examiner, stood over her and began his work.
Reese’s clothes had been removed. Her body was a patchwork quilt of bruises and contusions from head to toe; only her face had been left undamaged. Stan had seen many dead bodies over the course of his career, but seeing Reese lying there, her body a testimony to the depravity of another human being, tore at his soul.
Sven Stevenson spoke into his hand held recorder as he walked around the body.
“The body is that of a young woman, natural blond hair, five foot ten inches tall and weighing one hundred and thirty two pounds. There is a strong odor of chlorine mixed with perfume. We should run tests on the skin to determine the cause of the smell but my initial conclusion is that she may have been in the pool before death. Another possibility is that the body may have been washed in a bleach solution and then the perfume applied.”
Sven bent over her torso and spoke into the recorder’s mouthpiece. “We can be more specific later, but my assessment at this time is that she is in her early twenties and quite physically fit. She has well-developed muscles in her arms and shoulders, which would suggest that she might have done manual labor or worked out regularly. “
Sven picked up Reese’s hand and said, “Her fingernails have been manicured. Based on the condition of the rest of the body, this is strange and the pristine condition of the manicure would suggest that it was done post mortem.”
“The bruising around her wrists and ankles suggest that she has been restrained. The type of bruising suggests a shackle of some sort, not rope. She has needle marks on her right arm. They do not look like those caused by a habitual drug user and therefore I would conclude that she was injected to disable her. I will be able to tell more after I r
un toxicology.”
Stan fought the urge to turn away as Sven flipped Reese over and continued.
“There are areas of intense bruising on the buttocks, the thighs and lower abdomen. The bruising on the remainder of the body looks like it is caused by punching or pounding by a flat object. There are no cuts visible.”
“There is significant tearing of the tissue of the vagina and anus that would suggest violent penetration. I have seen similar injuries in other sexually abused bodies and would speculate, at this stage, that the killer carried out this penetration using solid objects of some type. I will know more when I open her up.”
“Open her up!” Stan mumbled to himself. He hated that phrase. You open up a Christmas present! This is a human being for God’s sake! He wished that Sven could find a better expression, but for now, he didn’t have an alternative.
“I’ll have something more definitive in the morning,” stated Sven.
Stan left the ME’s facility trying to contain his emotions. This one is getting to me, he mumbled as he got into his Crown Victoria and headed back to Hudson Bend to meet with the team.
~
Stan barged into the conference room of the station and bellowed, “Marie and George, you two get started on interviewing all the neighbors starting first thing in the morning.”
“We need to find out if anyone saw anything last night. We know that Bill Andersen was a witness but given that he was two sheets to the wind who knows what he saw. Tommy, you get a hold of Jim and Mary McCord at their place in Colorado. The security company tried to reach Jim a day or so ago without any luck. Find them, talk to them and see what they know. They’ll be out of their wits when we break the news to them, so, Tommy, go softly please.”
The office phone rang right in the middle of the briefing. “Hello, Stan Hardwick here.”
“What the fuck is going on there!” screamed Jim McCord. “Why wasn’t I called immediately before you entered my property? I want to speak to Police Chief Dunwoody and I want to speak to him now!”
