by Jared Paul
“Dr. Willis is out to lunch and there’s an ambulance parked in the drop off and I don’t know what to do! There’s two of Sheriff Harper’s deputies out front”
“Slow down, Drew.” Cory interrupted calmly.
Cory put a hand to Drew’s bony shoulder and she felt the up and down motion of her frame as the frazzled woman tried to get out what she had to say. For one horrible moment, a second frozen in mental torture, Cory had the image of walking out to meet the deputies and listening to them tell her that it was Jon’s body out in that ambulance.
“Someone found a body behind Pete’s Grocery. The deputy out front said it was one of the checkout girls.”
Cory exhaled, glad that the morbid pictures of Jon’s corpse were gone. She refocused on Drew, “Go into the lab and prepare a table. Put out what I’ll need to examine the body with and let me go handle our visitors.”
Drew visibly calmed down, her face going back to its neutral state. No matter what Randall said about the woman, Cory knew that in a pinch, Drew was capable. She walked off towards the lab as Cory took her cue and headed in the opposite direction.
Inside of the reception area, Travis Harper and his partner Louis Kale were waiting on her.
“There you are. You know that ditz of an intern almost fainted when we showed up?”
Cory watched as Louis folded his arms to his chest. Like Travis, the man was built cleanly out of candy, with all his muscles toned in all the right places. He happened to be two years older, but it couldn’t make a difference between them if he’d tried. When off duty, the duo worked in tandem to woo as many women as would have them, although lately she’d heard word that Travis had gotten more than he’d expected with a girl in town and that he might be permanently off the market. Much to Louis’ dismay.
Cory said, “How can I help you two?”
“Didn’t Drew tell you? A body was discovered behind Pete’s”
“Really sorry to interrupt you Louis, but I know that much. What do you want me to do? Is there an apparent cause of death?”
Travis stepped forward. “Just tell us what you can. The coroner told us that asphyxiation was the cause of death. If anything, we know this wasn’t an accident.”
Cory nodded. That would explain why Drew was such a mess; there hadn’t been a murder in Collie since she’d started working and there had only been one in the length of her career.
“I’ll go out and meet with the paramedics. You two can go for now, I’ll be calling the station when I’m through with the examination.”
“Louis, go tell the boys out back that they have the go ahead to bring the body in.”
Cory could feel the impending conversation Travis wanted to have with her like a ton of bricks waiting to be dropped on her head. She knew that the guy loved his brother, but the fact was that she handled things in her own way and the constant butting in of other people made the job all the more difficult.
After Louis was gone from the room, Cory was on Travis before he could even open his mouth.
“Look, I already know what you’re going to say, and you can just keep it to yourself.”
“Cory, if you know what I’m going to say, then you know that going to the cemetery alone hurts Jon. He wants to move on, but he’s still locked inside of the past. He goes to work and comes home, never going out. The man has stopped living.”
Cory folded her arms to herself and gave a quick squeeze. “Just stay out of my life. Don’t you think this is hard on me too? We‘re divorced, Travis.”
Travis opened his mouth but then closed it. The paramedics were wheeling a body through the hall, the corpse zipped head to toe in a black Zip-Loc.
“I’m going to go handle my job. You do yours and we’ll all be happy.”
********
Jonathan Harper stood over the grave of his son and read over the inscription of the headstone. He’d done it several times already, but he didn’t have anything to say. He liked to think that David knew his heart, that wherever David was, that he was at peace.
“I miss you. You mother loves you too.”
Jon pulled a small airplane from his pocket and set it next to the flowers.
“I bought that for you today. I thought it would be nice to have another one to add to the collection.”
He fought against the tears that wanted to rise, fought like so many times to keep from breaking down. He wanted to tell David he was sorry, that he’d tried to keep Cory with them. She was beyond his help, for now, but not beyond the love he knew he still felt for her.
The divorce had been rough, but it had been mutual; they both saw that if they stayed together and tried to make it work, that at some point they’d be ripping each other’s throats out like wild dogs. So much anger and frustration and pain filled both of them, that the love just took a back seat to observeunwilling to prevent their destruction.
Jon slumped down on his butt to stare at the grave. The sun was getting higher in the sky, but the day was his to take his time. He’d considered bringing his trusty best friend of a flask with him, but found it inappropriate to drink alcohol in front of his son. Somehow, it made the habit worse if David knew that this was what he had been reduced to.
“I miss her so much, son. If I could take back everything, I would.” He’d known that his drinking, in part had made it difficult to handle the anger, and therefore keep himself from losing control at Cory. Their arguments had been epic battles worth writing home about and history would be documented with the horrible things he’d said to her.
The ground was wet from the morning dew, and the moisture was starting to soak through his jeans to his boxers, but he wasn’t about to move. He’d spent long hours like this with David while he was alive, just being in the kid’s company. He’d never gotten tired of watching David play, or laugh, or make faces at him when he didn’t get his way. It was surreal to think that a little being that had been that full of life was just gone.
The vibration from his cell phone jarred him from his thoughts. He pulled the thing out of his pocket, pressed the call function and placed it to his ear.
“Sorry to call you on your day off, Jon. But you need to come in.”
Jon sighed, “What is it? That farmer off the highway got his shotgun out again?”
“No, brother. We’ve got us someone who likes to strangle women behind grocery stores.”
Jon pinched his cell phone between his neck and shoulder as he used his hands to stand up.
“What are you talking about?”
“There’s been a murder. Just saw Cory, and she’s doing the work up on the body as we speak. I was wanting you to come with my partner and I over to the crime scene. Maybe your eyes will see something we didn’t. As of right now, we don’t have a thing to go on.”
********
Cory peered down at the face of the woman on her table. She’d been a friendly girl, never a bad thing to say about anyone, and she’d let you slide on change if you were a little short. She had also been beautiful, though not so much now. Her features were badly distorted by the work of the person who’d stolen her life and had done this to her.
She looked away from the body, as she’d done a few times since beginning the examination. It was always difficult when someone came through that, in life, you’d known and in death, you’d wish you didn’t have to know.
Amber Montgomery didn’t deserve to be on that cold table, her torso bereft of clothes, open to the air for inspection. She hadn’t asked to have the life choked from her, or needed to be tossed out onto the ground like trash.
Cory sighed and returned to the body, her tape recorder had been left running, and now she began her report.
“Death by asphyxiation caused by strangulation. Ligature marks, seems to have been a garroting wire, possibly thin fishing line. Trauma to the face, possible broken cheekbone.”
Cory stopped the recorder. She lifted Amber’s shoulder so that she could see underneath her. On her shoulder blade heading
in towards her spine was a small opening. It was the size of a pencil eraser, and it appeared to run deep. Cory picked up a utensil, normally used for making points internally during dissection, and she nuzzled around in the hole. The tip of the tool struck against something solid, and using the tip of a scalpel, she was able to lift a small object out of the opening.
If the edges of the wound had been seared or burned, Cory might have suspected the wound to be from a gunshot, but what she pulled out of Amber’s skin was no type bullet that she’d ever seen.
“Now what do we have here?”
Cory rotated the hard object between her first finger and thumb, puzzled. Why would someone have purposely forced something like this into the flesh of someone else? It didn’t seem to be anything other than a small round piece of plastic.
She moved over to a desk with equipment set up on it used for taking closer looks at the kinds of things she couldn’t see with her own eyes. Most of the time, she used the space for examining slides of different kinds of tissues. She opened a drawer and pulled out a magnifying glass.
The edges of the plastic object were smooth, and the shape of it was pill-like. Toward the center of it, there seemed to be a thin line and with a second of inspiration, Cory decided to pull at the edges of the object, not surprised when it came apart. Inside of the small plastic container, there seemed to be a tiny rolled up bit of paper.
“What the hell?” Cory mumbled as she spread the bit of paper out with her fingers. The writing on it, unbelievable that it was there to begin with, was small but legible even to the naked eye. It read:
Number one, from me to you. Enjoy.
CHAPTER 3
………………………………..
The ride over to the crime scene from the cemetery wasn’t very interesting, and if it had been, Jon wouldn’t have expressed his feelings one way or the other, especially not today.
Collie was not a very large town, in fact it had a base population of around one thousand people. In cities where there might be more than a million or more people milling about colliding with one another in their busy lives, one thousand was quite minimal.
The buildings in Collie were storybookthe kinds of buildings that belonged in fairytales. Vines climbed up their walls, working their way around brick windows edged in brightly colored paint. There were flowers and hedges in front of quaint signs that invited you in and made you want to stay. Mom and pop stores littered nearly every corner, dotted with the occasional thrift store or antique parlor. When the sun set in Collie it was as if it were going to sleep to begin a pleasant dream.
Jon pulled into the lot of Pete’s grocery and frowned at the people roaming about his crime scene. Police tape had been set up to avoid contamination, but every person with an eye and a nose for someone else’s business had come out of the wood to gawk and comment. The news had probably spread all over Collie by now that one of the local girls had kicked her bucket over.
He got out of his car, locked it, made sure his badge was visible, and instead of heading directly to where he knew his deputies were waiting on him, Jon moved to the front of the crowd.
“Clear on out of here, people. This is a crime scene.”
Several faces in the crowd looked ashamed at being called out as the walking rubbernecking monkeys that they were, but some just stood there as if it would have taken an act of the Big Man himself to make them move.
Jon felt like pulling his gun, maybe waving it around a little in a threatening fashion, but just as he set his hand to the butt of his gun, the people started moving off and back to their cars. It would never cease to spark his curiosity how people, when finding out about something so horrible as a girl being murdered, would take their cars and drive to the place where it happened as if they had to try and be a part of it somehow.
He turned away from the departing crowd and headed toward the smaller group of uniforms behind the yellow police tape. His first impressions of the crime scene weren’t very large, in fact if there had been a body there at all, he would have been surprised. There didn’t look to be a struggle, nothing was out of the ordinary.
“Hey Jon.”
Travis offered him a wave as he sauntered over, his brother’s face looking serious.
“Do we know the victim’s name?”
Jon figured that was a good place to begin. However, the change in Travis’ face made all the difference. It was clear, possibly from somewhere deep in his gut, that his brother had known the girl.
“Travis?”
Travis shook his head. “Uh yeah, victim’s name is Amber Montgomery. Worked here for about a year. She was a local.”
Jon motioned for his brother to come closer. “You know this girl?” It was a safe assumption, regardless. Travis knew most of the women in town; if not by name then in the most intimate ways possible a man can know a woman.
“We had a few dates, nothing serious. She was a sweet girl. Makes me pissed that someone did this to her.”
Jon bet it did. His brother might have liked to sample the pleasures of many female’s flesh, but the respect he had for the opposite sex went something next akin to religion for him. He said his grace to Aphrodite.
“I’m sorry I called you in, but a murder isn’t the kind of thing you get to sit out on, you know?”
Jon gave the scene another look and still he came up blank. He asked, “Where’s Pete? Anyone question him yet? Who was the last person to see the victim alive?”
Travis pointed in the direction of a girl whose hysterical crying could be heard now over the sounds of the rest of the world. If Jon took a vote, he’d wager that people up in a space station could hear the poor thing.
“She was on shift with Amber. Her name is Dana Morgan.”
Jon moved away from his brother and entered the throng surrounding the girl. He set his hand on her shoulder and it appeared as if the girl tried to calm herself. Jon offered her a smile and began gently, “You were friends with Amber?”
“Well, yes. I mean, we worked togetherI, I can’t believe she’s dead.” A fresh wave of sound broke out, spiced accordingly with tears. Jon squeezed the girl’s shoulder.
“You were the one who found her, weren’t you?”
“She was just out here, slumped behind the Dumpster. Her mouth was all open, it was, it was so horrible!”
Jon remained patient. He began, his voice slipping into a golden sort of mellow, “Look, Dana dear, the more you can tell me, the more I can help Amber. I want to find out who did this to her, okay? You think you can tell me what you know?”
Dana sniffled. “We were on shift together. Amber stepped out for a cigarette since she was on break. It was late and we were going to be done in an hour or so. When she didn’t come back in from her break, I thought she just left. She’s done that before.”
“Was her car still in the parking lot?”
“No, that was why, well that was why I thought she was gone. Her car isn’t here.”
Jon frowned. “What kind of car is it?”
“I don’t know! It’s red, that‘s all I ever noticed.”
Jon heard Travis chuckle but didn’t pay him any attention. He directed his gaze back at Dana. “What made you think to look behind the Dumpster?”
Dana shrugged. “I was taking out the trash from the bins in front of the store. Pete wants us to do that when one of us has the morning shift. I went to put the bags inside of the Dumpster when I noticed Amber’s keys on the ground. I, I went to pick up her keys and there she was just staring at me.”
Dana broke again, her tears wetting the collar of her shirt. Her blue eyes were so red and puffy from crying that Jon had a hard time picturing that the girl was able to see him or anything else. He looked to Travis.
“Take Dana home and put a deputy on her.” He looked back to Dana and finally removed his hand from her shoulder. He added to reassure her, “Don’t worry about anything all right? I just want a car on you for the night. Lock your door and call us if
you see or hear anything.”
Louis waved a charming hello at Dana and offered his hand as Travis winked at him from behind her back. Jon just hoped they gave the girl a bit of room before they decided to pounce on her. He smiled inwardly at the thought of how tempting it must be going up close and personal with a damsel in distress.
Jon shook his head and redirected his attention back to the crime scene. He had a feeling deep in his gut, for a reason he didn’t understand, that whoever committed this crime was just beginning. He hoped that there was a clue, some insignificant thing the killer left behind that would help him prevent this from happening to someone else.
********
