December 27th

 

“IT WAS THE most beautiful thing I’d ever laid my eyes on.”

Jack Heavner was in the middle of another one of his stories when I stepped into the breakroom. I glanced in his direction as I headed straight to the coffee. Eyes wide, he beamed with a grin that wrinkled his shaved head. He was the guy all the girls wanted in order to piss off their parents. I rolled my eyes as I listened to more of his nightly victory. I leaned back against the counter waiting for the story of this chick to unfold. This was just another typical morning around the precinct.

“You really have no idea,” Evan Murphy as he shook his head with a satisfaction of his own.

Grayson Cooks asked Jack for a picture. Heavner handed Cooks his phone. He admired the picture and handed it back. If Grayson appreciated the picture, she must have been a knockout. He was picky as hell with women. If they weren’t a debutante, he wasn’t giving them a second glance; however, most debutantes didn’t really hang around police stations. Grayson Cooks was still very single.

“Those curves were so tight,” Jack said without lifting his eyes from the picture.

“It was fucking amazing.” Evan leaned back in his chair, lost in some sort of daze.

“I cannot wait to get my hands on her again.” Jack shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“You and me both,” declared Evan as my eyes shifted back to him.

I shook my head as the pieces started fitting together.

“Wait, wait, wait,” I interrupted. “Murphy, you were there?”

“Well, yeah. We both had to see how well she rode.”

I stared at both men before looking at Grayson, who didn’t seem to have any issue with Jack and Evan going after the same woman.

“Y’all would actually do that?” I shook my head once again. “I mean, good for y’all, but …Wow. Y’all had your own turn or was this at the same time?”

“Well, Heavner went first,” Evan explained. “I went next. Then both of us at the end.”

“For being an older model, she was definitely able to keep up,” Jack added.

“Y’all gotta let me try her out sometime,” Grayson said.

I put down my coffee and sat at the table. I narrowed my eyes at Grayson. “You’d want to join those two?”

“Well, yeah, but my leg still isn’t great. I probably wouldn’t go as fast.”

“Peterman, you’re welcome to join in.”

I leaned back in my chair and stared at Jack. “I don’t think I want any part of it.”

“What’s the big deal?” Heavner asked. “I thought you wanted to do this racing thing?”

Racing?

“Let me see the picture.” I reached out my hand. Heavner slid his phone across the table. I lifted it up and saw a bright red race car. I slid the phone back to Heavner. “Jesus.”

“What?” he asked.

“I thought y’all were talking about a woman. I figured y’all two would be all about it.” I nodded my head toward Jack and Evan. “But once Cooks wanted in, I had no clue what was going on.”

“I would never do that.” Murphy said.

“I would.” We all looked at Heavner. He leaned back in his chair, crossed his tattooed arms, and added, “With two chicks.”

“You want in, Peterman?” Murphy asked. “Cooks is gonna help in the pit. Bum leg or not, I’m making him.”

“Go in with us. We’re all going to pitch in for the car. Heavner should have the first race in in a few months.”

“How much is it?” I asked.

“It’s twenty, but split between the five of us,” Heavener told me. “It’s a good investment. We can win the money back, guaranteed.”

“Are you that confident in yourself?” I joked.

“You know I can do it.”

I nodded. “So, Landry is in?”

“It was Tanner’s idea,” Murphy said.

“Alright.” I nodded. “I’m in.”

Jack grinned and nodded. I had no idea what I had gotten myself into.

“Are y’all going to Dixie’s for New Year’s Eve?” Grayson asked.

“I’m on call all day,” Evan answered. “But yeah, I’ll probably show up and not drink.”

“Any excuse to sit by the bartender,” Heavner ribbed.

“Maybe if Peterman would back off.” Murphy cocked his eyebrow at me.

“It’s not like that. Seriously, I’ll back off,” I tried to reason.

“Do you even want to go after her?” Grayson looked at Evan, waiting for an answer.

We all stared at Evan, whose eyes never shifted from the coffee in front of him. I had convinced myself he was either afraid of commitment, or he only wanted to commit to one girl. I would’ve completely understood if that was the case.

He glanced up at the doorway, his eyes widening in fear.

“Charley, what’s wrong?”

Everyone turned. Charley stood in the doorway as Murphy walked around the table to go to her.

“A call … I received a call …” She shook her head and covered her mouth.

We heard the footsteps coming down the hall. Tanner Landry, in the middle of putting on his jacket, appeared behind her.

“There’s been a murder. Caleb’s already headed up there to check it out.”

I froze, staring at Tanner.

“Does anyone have any experience with a murder?”

“I have.” Tanner abruptly responded to Grayson’s question, the same question that was on everyone’s mind.

“Where?” I asked, frozen by the shock.

“North of town. Almost in Hudson.”

“Heavner, team up with Peterman.” Murphy said. “I’m going to stay with Charley.”

“No, I’m okay,” Charley offered.

“We all need to go, Murphy.”

His wouldn’t turn away from Charley despite the order.

“I think I’ll be safe in a police station, Evan. I’m just a little shocked. This stuff doesn’t happen in Olde Town.”

She was half right. This kind of thing never used to happen in Olde Town, but as the years went on, it was evident that no matter how small a town was, nothing was safe anymore. This felt like another reason why I should suck it up and consider having another partner. I walked around the table, pulling Evan’s arm on the way out.

Everyone went with their partner to their cars. The wind rushed against my face as I walked alone to mine. I reversed out of the parking spot, flicked on the lights, and glanced at the empty seat next to me, wishing he was here to help us deal with what we were about to see.

“What should I do, Mike?”

I stared out at the road in front of me and followed the two cruisers up ahead, three cars flying down a desolate highway on a grey winter morning. The town was silent, unaware of what had happened in the dead of night. This would get out eventually. It was only a matter of time. Then what would happen?

The radio whirred. Caleb’s only words came through loud and clear. “Prepare yourselves.”

No one said much of anything else. There was a murder. That’s all we knew.

The cars in front of me pulled into a parking lot in front of a row of townhouses. Neighbors stood outside in flannel pajamas and heavy coats. The forensics unit had already set up a tent in front of the door to one of the townhouses. We walked one by one up the walkway and into the tent. Caleb was waiting inside, a white coverall protecting his uniform. Tanner wasted no time pulling on a suit while the rest of us silently followed his lead, not knowing what to do beyond preventing ourselves from contaminating the crime scene. We followed Caleb into a tiny entryway and approached the kitchen. We stopped in horror.

A slender figure lay face down in a pool of blood. A woman. A naked woman. Her blue tinted legs pressed closed, her feet slightly spread. Her arms extended at a forty-five-degree angle on either side, palms face up. The puddle of crimson around her almost seemed meticulously poured. Like spilled paint, it was spread so smoothly without any hint of disturbance. No footprints. No splatters. No traces left to the naked eye. Her dark hair fanned out around her shoulders and her back.

A flash of a camera went off. The forensics team. I blinked out of my trance but continued to stare at the massacre.

“It’s like she was posed,” Grayson muttered.

I walked around the guys to get a closer look.

“Who found her?” Jack directed his question at Caleb.

“Her roommate came home this morning after spending the night at her boyfriend’s.”

“Has she been questioned?” Tanner asked.

“No, not yet. She’s upstairs in her room.”

Tanner took the initiative and went upstairs. I crouched down near the victim’s head. Her vacant eyes stared into the crimson of her own blood. Her throat had been sliced so deep that her head was nearly severed. The blood seeped into her hair but there wasn’t a drop of blood anywhere on her back.

“Someone definitely placed her like this,” I said.

“Everything’s been cleaned. No trace of blood anywhere except for the floor here.”

Blair, the county coroner, came up behind me. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she wore her black-framed glasses pushed to the top of her head.

“There are incisions on the back of her neck. We’re waiting to move her until we’ve examined for any particulates.”

“Cooks. Heavner. Murphy. Split up to question the neighbors,” Caleb ordered.

The guys headed outside while I remained crouched near the body.

“Do we have a name?”

“Erica Gunter. A waitress at a steakhouse in Lenoir. Age, twenty-five.” Blair crouched down next to me, carefully lifting the victim’s hair from her neck. “There’s something carved into her neck. Given the amount of blood loss from the initial wound, this was made sometime after death. The killer placed her hair over it as if he wanted us to find this during examination.”

“Can you make it out?” I studied the patterns carved into the flesh, but couldn’t make out what it was.

“There are three straight lines on either side of an oval. Two lines at the top.” Blair pointed out the pattern as she spoke, but I still couldn’t make it out in the bloody mess. “The incision appears to have been done with a small knife. A paring knife.”

“And the throat?” Caleb asked.

“Given the depth of the gash, a sharp chef’s knife.”

“How do you know it’s a paring knife?”

“Check the sink, gentlemen.”

Caleb tiptoed carefully between the victim’s feet, leaned over, and peered into the sink.

“Did you bag it?”

“Nope,” she said without breaking from her examination. “It was already bagged.”

Caleb’s latex covered hand reached into the sink pulled out what appeared to be a heavy-duty food storage bag.

“Those look like your evidence bags,” I observed.

“They look like everyone’s evidence bags.”

“So, it’s someone who has access to evidence bags.” Caleb noted while placing the killer’s evidence bag into one of ours.

“It looks like he used her own kitchen knives against her,” I said.

“He left no trace either.” Caleb said. “He had to have made a mistake. How did he get in? How did he leave?”

“I’m not quite sure what this carving is,” Blair continued. “But my gut says it’s a calling card.”

Caleb’s eyes met mine. As much as he tried to hide it, I could see his fear matched my own. We both knew the horrible truth, but only Caleb had the courage to announce it.

“This is going to happen again.”