by G. O. Grason
“Who cares?" Thompson thought. “Doesn’t matter to the case.”
Thompson’s phone rang as he waited for his water to heat. It was Lieutenant Baggins on the line
"Hello, Good Morning Lieutenant," Detective Thompson said.
“No time for pleasantries please," Baggins replied abruptly.
"I sent you out there to work, and I heard you won’t even work overtime”.
“I…” Thompson stammered.
“You want to work 9-5?” Baggins barked. “Go work in a goddamn bank, you haven't even conducted a proper investigation for Christ sakes.” Baggins paused. “You plan on saying something?”
"I'm sorry Lieutenant but there are no witnesses, no solid leads, there is nothing to go on," Thompson replied.
Coldly, Baggins said, "Cut the shit and make an arrest.”
“You can trust in…” Thompson started to say.
The line went dead.
“Did he forget he asked me to help with this case?" he yelled and banged his fist on the counter top.
Detective Thompson was pissed with everything and everyone: the City, the victim's family, obnoxious Christine and Lieutenant Baggins. He was determined to hand in his resignation if he made no progress soon. There was no other way. If he didn’t succeed, what was the point of Thompson being there?
It was past 7 in the morning when a call came through as Thompson was getting ready for work and drive back to Columbia University.
“Hello, is this Detective Thompson?” the caller asked.
“Yes, this is Thompson, what can I do you for?”
“This is Sergeant Monroe and we need you in Ithaca right away” the caller said.
“That’s a four-hour drive. “What’s this about?” Thompson asked as he moved around languidly.
“We recovered Grace Carmens body from the Cayuga lake earlier today. Some locals reported an abandoned car parked off the road and the car matched the description.”
Detective Thompson sprang to life with the new development. He couldn’t contain his excitement.
“Have you reached Detective Halloway? I believe she is in Ithaca. She should know about this.”
As soon as he said this, he was unsure what he meant. Officially, Halloway was off the case so, why did Thompson feel the need to clue her in. Honor Thompson supposed, or maybe it was guilt?
“We couldn’t reach her, and she hasn’t shown up at the station,” Monroe said, and the line went silent.
Thompson got ready for work.
First, he had to stop at the precinct. On his way Detective Thompson left a voice message for Christine to please join the investigation and to hold off on any intentions she may of questioning Grace’s parents. Shortly after, a message came in that unidentified female genitalia had been discovered at the scene of the crime.
The text said, "It is unknown if it belonged to Grace Carmen, but there is a high probability it did.”
Around 7:45 in the morning, Detective Thompson stopped by the police department in Manhattan to get the appropriate files and brief the relevant officers on duty and Baggins about the latest developments. He made another call to Detective Halloway, which proved to be a waste of time as he embarked on his journey to Ithaca. The phone just rang and since he had no cell phone number, there was no way to reach Christine. He had a department email but nobody used those.
On the way, Thompson made a call to Sergeant Monroe and ordered the immediate closure of the crime scene so evidence wouldn’t be disturbed . That was the last thing he needed.
“We are still searching for the other body parts that are missing and we are expecting Detective Halloway as well,” answered Monroe. The wind from the cracked window of Thompson’s car soothed his cheek. “You know Detective Halloway right sir?”
A tingle of trepidation ran over Thompson’s skin.
“No one should access that crime scene, not even Halloway. That is an order,” Detective Thompson boomed and hung up the phone.
As he drove, Detective Thompson tasted blood in his mouth. He thought about what the killer wanted from the victims, who he is and the relationship they shared with the victims, before their gruelling deaths. He sped off as these thoughts disturbed his mind. Thompson was determined to step up his game and find the criminal and bring him to justice, one way or another. There was no alternative. Then, as if out of nowhere, Christine popped into Thompson’s mind. He remembered the outburst at her office. He had been attracted to how fiery she was. The commitment to the case was intriguing. On top of that, her athletic figure, her long, lustrous blonde hair and her sweet combative eyes made Thompson do a double take in the moment. Of course, he didn’t say anything. Christine would have chopped his head off but the feeling was still there. He wondered if Christine felt the same way.
Thompson thought of treating Christine to a drink and eliminating the animosity between them over a glass of wine. Still, another thought invaded: to make Christine irrelevant during the investigation by obtaining a court injunction restraining her from the case so he can run the investigation on his terms without distractions.
Unbeknownst to Detective Thompson, Christine was already on her way to the neighbourhood where Grace grew up to continue her own investigation. Thompson was the last thing on her mind.
3
It was Monday morning, 2 hours since Detective Halloway had been conducting her investigation in the university town, on her own. She had been keeping a low profile since Saturday morning when she arrived in the community. Every one of Grace's friends or close relations wouldn't speak with her. Some thought she wasn't even a real cop since she didn't pull up in an official car or was followed by groups of police officers. One older man said he didn’t believe her simply because Christine was a woman. She was even accused of working for the maniac on the loose. Eventually an older woman, however, pointed her to the childhood home of Grace Carmen.
It was around 10:34 in the morning when she got to the Carmen house, a lonely house located at the edge of the street. The sun was hot on her neck with a light wind in the sky. She rang the doorbell and no one answered. A car rushed by behind her. Christine eyed the thin window slats imagining a pair of eyes staring back at her. She thought no one was around but then she could make out voices from within. They were tiny, hushed worried whispers. Christine looked back onto the street and began to put her hand on the doorknob when the door flung open.
Christine stupidly lost her balance and almost tripped but she was caught a few inches before she could touch the floor. Christine looked at the hands that held her. She saw that they belonged to an older adult male in his early sixties and firmly behind him, a woman of about the same age. It occurred to her that they must be Mr. and Mrs. Carmen – Grace's parents.
“Hi there. We've been watching you closely since you stepped on our porch,” said the man.
“Hi, Good Morning. Sorry for my clumsiness,” Christine said as she braced herself.
She glanced through the room, making sure to keep a smile on her face. “I’m Detective Christine Halloway. I am overseeing Grace's case file.” Christine paused seeing a wave of pain run through the old man’s face. “I’m sorry for Graces disappearance.”
The sad, mourning faces of the couple changed in an instant and any warmth Christine felt, grew stone cold.
“Get her out of here!” shouted Mrs. Carmen. “Charles do something.”
“Darling, we can at least hear her out” Mr. Carmen persuaded.
“I said get her out of my house!” she yelled with a finger pointing towards the direction of the door. “You don’t know what we’ve been through.”
Charles moved towards her and asked her to step outside for a minute, so he could sort out the situation. The door closed gently behind her. She stared at another passing car zoom down the empty street. A part of her feared a policeman would roll up on her unassigned interview. Inside, Christine could hear their voices. There was a subtle cry of anguish from within. It had come from the mot
her. Christine observed the road for what seemed like forever but her mind did not wander. She could not forget about Grace Carmen.
“Christine?” Mr. Carmen asked. “Would you come inside?”
Christine followed Charles into the large sitting room and was awestruck by the sight of it. The chairs had been littered with every single piece of clothing that belonged to a lady in her twenties and Grace's pictures of moments from her first grade through high school hung on the left side of the room. She was led to another dimly lit room next to the sitting room. There, she met Grace's mother standing behind a mahogany table. Christine was offered a seat.
“This is Grace’s Mom and my wife of 30 years” Charles said.
“Im sorry for intruding at this difficult time,” Christine said. “But I’m here to help.
"I hope my daughter will come back safely to me," Mrs. Carmen sobbed.
“She will,” Christine said as she offered her a tissue. “I promise.”
Christine knew promising anything in her profession was a bad idea but at that time, she believed it fully. It was the truth.
"I'm sorry about your missing daughter," Christine started. "But I can assure you that the appropriate people are assigned to the case and are working around the clock on it.”
They nodded in agreement.
"All I ask from you is your cooperation and if you can tell me about Grace and any details of any of her activities leading up to her disappearance." Christine brought out her notepad and pen. “Are you able to do that.
Again, they nodded in agreement.
The wasted couple took turns recounting how amazing and peace loving their daughter was. She was their source of joy, they said and indeed she was, by being their only child. They talked about her love for fashion and they brought out pictures of hers as a beauty pageant contestant.
“She received several awards and even a few standing ovations during the annual Miss Ithaca. How Grace learned to be such a highly regarded competitor without any coaching still amazes me” Mrs. Carmen said.
“You know we shouldn’t be talking to you because of the threats we have received from the criminal,” Mrs. Carmen paused, "But this is our lovely daughter and we will sacrifice anything to get her back to us. You can’t just take someone’s child away.”
An awkward moment passed in silence before she resumed talking about Grace's passion for music and her studies.
“She had been a beneficiary of several scholarship opportunities when she was in high school and she was thrilled to be accepted to Columbia University where she went on to win several competitions,” Mrs. Carmen stated proudly.
“Anytime I hear her sing and play the guitar, I always know she would put a smile on lots of faces with her beautiful voice,” said Mr. Carmen.
"Does she work?" asked Detective Halloway as she jotted in her note pad.
"Yes, she works at our convenience store every weekend, not much of a job but she helps out," replied Mr. Carmen.
"Are you aware of anyone would that would want to harm her?" asked Christine.
“Definitely not, she was peace loving and loved by everyone. She was always making new friends wherever she went, right up until just before her disappearance. In fact, she became friendly with some new guy just weeks before she disappeared,” Mr. Carmen said as he eyed his wife.
“Not once did I have a bad feeling about that boy,” Mrs. Carmen sighed. “Not once.”
“What was he like?" Christine asked.
"Like how young guys look like," Mrs. Carmen replied sarcastically.
"I'm sorry Ma'am but these questions are quite important,” Christine reiterated. “Anybody that Grace came in contact with could be a potential lead to finding your daughter.”
"I don't see how the hell that can get my daughter back," she replied and stormed off.
"I'm sorry for my wife's behavior but you need to understand she is in pain," Mr. Carmen said apologetically and sighed. “She lashes out. She doesn’t mean it.”
"I understand," replied Christine and gave Mr. Carmen some time to rest his mind and refocus.
“They met one night when she filled in for her mother at the store. She had been playing a new song she had learned on the guitar when this guy came in,” Mr. Carmen paused and leaned his back on the wall. “They connected through music and he asked her to teach him how to play, which she accepted.
“By new guy, you meant a new guy in town or in her life?” Christine asked.
"Both" he answered immediately.
He continued his story on how the duo started dating and how he saw waves of happiness engulfing his daughter during those weeks.
“Well, I think they ended up having a fight and she wouldn't speak to him or talk about him to anyone," he said. "He also stopped showing up at the store.”
"What is this guy's name again?" she asked, and Mr. Carmen took a few moments. There was a mixture of fear and determination in his eyes. “Robert. I don’t know his last name.”
She took down notes as Mr. Carmen described him for the next two and a half minutes. The description he gave said that he had a long deep scar beneath his left eye and he was of average height and build. He had claimed to work in town for a new small company trying to establish some cultural roots in the area.
They spoke for what seemed like an eternity. She took notes as Grace’s father spoke. She would often sympathize with him over the disappearance of their daughter and kept reassuring him she would soon be found, as the police had been working around the clock to unravel the mystery behind her disappearance. Christine thanked Mr. Carmen for his cooperation.
“I promise to get back to you before the weekend with some good news,” Christine said. “Give my regards to your wife.”
Yet, her promise was already broken. Grace’s car and body was found and recovered by the local police.
The local news broadcasted the discovery of a dead body recovered by the police. It belonged to the missing Grace Carmen. Detective Halloway stopped dead in her tracks as she heard the news. The walls of her motel room felt like they were closing in on her. Christine could conjure the lovely pictures of Grace that she saw earlier and wished she had met her when she was alive. It was such a hard pill to swallow and she wondered how terrible Mr. and Mrs. Carmen would feel upon learning of the devastating news.
She pulled on her jacket and grabbed her car keys from her unmade bed. She drove off into the town to inquire about the small company where Robert allegedly worked. She drove to every hotel around and asked to see their registries, hoping she would catch a glimpse of the name mentioned by Mr. Carmen.
She visited every bar and strip club around for the next two days with the aim of obtaining some information but all proved a dead end. There was also no record of any new companies in town, which exhaustingly created more questions than answers.
On Tuesday evening, she visited every apartment that was up for lease but couldn't get any information to help her investigation. She was getting nowhere fast and was considering heading back to the city, when an anonymous voice message left on her phone, said that she should follow the creek bed south of town into the woods.
Finally, a break, she thought. I better call for back up, but who?
“Hello, this is Detective Halloway, I need two uniformed officers to meet me in 20 minutes.” She described her location and stated the essence of their mission, as the dispatcher assured her she would get the backup she needed.
“What’s the purpose?” the dispatcher said coldly.
“Grace Carmen,” Christine said flatly.
Christine waited to be told to back off, that it wasn’t her case, that what she was requesting was against the lieutenant’s orders.
“They’re on their way,” the dispatcher reported. “Hang tight.”
Relief washed over Christine.
After they arrived, the three of them found something puzzling in their remote search together. They found a one-room decrepit old cottage, a shack reall
y, hidden beside a nearby stream. Wisps of smoke were coming from what appeared to be burnt wood from a campfire. The coals were still warm.
They checked inside the cottage and alas, it was the same room from the picture posted on Grace's Instagram page.
“Ma’am, we didn’t find anything suspicious,” said one of the officers.
“Alright,” Christine replied as something caught her attention. “What’s this?”
Christine noticed some words inscribed in blood on the wooden floor.
Robert, I’m sorry.
On the floor laid a wooden chair with a broken arm, a rope and rough burlap that must have been used to tie Grace and gag her.
“Seal off this place,” Christine ordered the officers. Whoever did this was here before she died.”
"Who the hell is Robert?" Christine muttered as she walked to her car with the other officers.
Christine woke up to more sad news the next morning. Mr. and Mrs. Carmen had been declared missing. Nausea rolled over Christine and the shitty weather outside was not helping either.
A note was left by the perpetrator that they should not be searched for or they would end up dead. The sternness of the threat sent a cold chill in her, as she lit her cigarette and took a long drag. Christine released a cloud of smoke through her nostrils and resolved to listen to all the voice mails from Brian Thompson.
“Prick,” Christine muttered.
Though the disappearance was obviously bad news, she also felt a little vindicated as she had gotten a lead about a possible suspect from her investigation.
Now I can go back to New York with the hope of gaining back full control of the case, Christine thought as she packed her bag and got set to travel back to Manhattan.
She got a message from Lieutenant Baggins that she should resume back to work by Monday or she would be suspended.
