The location of the body, which had now been moved, was obvious because that part of the beach had been taped off. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I figured I’d know when I found it.
The cool breeze from the ocean soothed me and made me almost happy. The keyword there is ‘ almost’; I wasn’t quite happy. Thoughts of the dead woman made me squirm; they had murdered her. I was sure of it. They had cut her life short by some cruel act of selfishness on someone’s part. Whoever had killed her had done it for his happiness; his benefit.
Had the woman been in pain? Had she screamed? Maybe her screams had angered the killer even more. Strangulation was a personal weapon, one that showed pure anger and resentment. The closeness between the killer and the victim was what the killer wanted; seeing life seep out of the eyes of the victim. It all brought a satisfaction that gave the killer rest. Had the victim tried to fight back?
I stopped; had she tried to fight back? That’s something I would ask the detective when I next saw him. That did not take too long because I saw him two seconds before he saw me. My brain went into overdrive trying to come up with an explanation about why I was here. The detective, I still didn’t know his name, took that very moment to turn around; at which point, he saw me. I gasped; that wasn’t part of the script.
He shoved his hands into his jean pockets and marched over to me; he radiated anger. I stood my ground and bit my tongue as a wave of panic swept over me. Many analogies and fake cover-up stories filled my mind. His face was set in stone. He radiated not only anger; he was angry.
“Oh, detective… I-” My voice came out shaky and I strove to keep my panic in check.
“Why are you here, miss Blackburn?” He looked unimpressed, but at least he remembered my last name; that was something, right?
I flinched and came up with… something. “I was… I needed to get out of the house. I wanted some air. Like, it can get so… stifling in the house when you find out that a body…” I trailed off. The fact that I was rambling hit me like a truck and I stopped talking and looked at him with wide eyes. He looked almost as amused as when he’d stormed towards me when he saw me. “I’ll stop talking now.”
“Yeah. So, in your quest to get some air, you walked to the exact place they found a body?” Well, now that he said it; it did sound ridiculous. But I nodded anyway. He scoffed.
“I… I didn’t think about it.” Now was the perfect time to talk about something else. “I had a question.”
“What?”
“First, what’s your name?” I asked. He raised an eyebrow at me then shrugged;
“Detective Lawrance.” I nodded. Okay, that was a great start; if I proceeded now; he’d answer my questions.
“So… I… did the woman have defence wounds on her?” I asked. He did it again: raised an eyebrow at me. I wanted to scowl at him, he needed to stop doing that.
“Why do you ask that?”
“I wanted to know. I wanted to see… if she fought off her attacker. Would that make it a random attack or someone she knew?” I suddenly was deep in thought, I didn’t notice him guiding me further and further away from the crime scene! “You guys can tell from the position of the wounds if she was… if she was attacked with something sharp or they beat her before getting strangled? Or if she was facing her attacker? Or…”
“That’ll be enough, Miss Blackburn. You may go home. And I advise you to leave these kinds of things to the professionals; like myself.”
“Well, yes. That’s why I’m asking you. Unless you want me to find out my way? Is she at a morgue?” I couldn’t ask him which morgue she was in.
“No. You will do no such thing.” He used proper grammar, which irked me. Talk like a normal human being. “If you attempt it, I will tell your aunt.”
I stared at him, my mouth ajar. He wouldn’t dare! “What are you? Five?” I may have sounded rude, but that could have been my intent. I could feel that I was glaring at him.
“No. But you don’t need to know how old I am.” He glared back at me. Now that I thought of it, he looked twenty-five going on eighty. His job must tire him.
“Okay.” I sighed and looked ready to walk away. “But can you please tell me something? Have you identified her yet?”
He shook his head and dismissed me.
“One last thing. Did she have defence wounds on her?”
He shook his head again.
He’d lied to me and I knew it, so I was going to find out by myself. I could do this, I wouldn’t rest tonight until I knew something. Glancing at my watch, I realised it was fast approaching time for me to head home, but I still had a few hours to kill.
The local café was buzzing as everyone talked about the woman;
“Who was she?”
“Margaret should have known her.”
“No, Margaret would have told them all. Tanya should know. Her husband is a police officer.”
“Yes, but he’s out of town. And he isn’t a cop anymore.”
“What a coincidence; what if he did it?”
I spared myself the torture and moved away from the two women. They were talking ceaselessly about whoever this Tanya character was. I ordered a Latte. It took an ungodly amount of time to prepare, but it was still good, so I overlooked the time I’d spent waiting for it.
“You must be new around here.” A voice said above me; it was a beautiful woman. She looked like a pleasant person.
“How d’you know?” I asked.
She took a seat across from me and laughed a little. “Oh, it’s obvious. People don’t just sit and have Lattes here. Wait; I’ll show you the difference between you and everyone else.” She waved a hand and the man that had taken my Latte order approached. She ordered their pasta. I asked her what kind of pasta it was and why she didn’t specify, but everyone knew what pasta she was talking about.
“What’s the difference?” I asked.
“You’re minding your own business. As you can see; everyone’s sitting with at least four other people.”
“You’re sitting with me.”
“That makes two of us, not five.” She pointed out.
“Well, I guess. I avoid people.” I laughed, and she joined me.
“So, tell me about yourself.” She said to me. I wanted to talk to her, she was young; like me and seemed as eager as I was to talk about the body; that meant she wasn’t too eager. “I’m Alison.”
“Angela. And there’s nothing to know. I came here to help my aunt, she’s had surgery.”
“Oh, Poppy’s your aunt?” How did everyone know? As if reading my mind, she laughed and added; “Small town, news gets around fast.” I saw that.
“Well, yeah. That’s it. How about you?”
“I live here now, been living here for the better part of five years.” She must read my mind again because she proceeded; “Oh, when I first came here, I had health problems. Severe asthma and cancer, so recovery was quite difficult.”
“Oh! I won’t lie to you, I’m not sorry for you. I’m happy for you. There’s nothing to be sorry about, you’re fine now; that’s better than when you were sick…” I realised I was rambling again. She had a peculiar look in her eyes, I stiffened. I need to get a filter. But then she smiled and whispered;
“Thank you. People always pity me; I hate pity. I’ve tried explaining it to people but they never get it.” She gave a soft sigh. “I like you already.”
“Likewise.” I smiled at her. I liked someone. I was shocked at myself. I what? “So, when does the pasta get here?”
“Right about… in exactly ten minutes; so we might as well make small talk.”
“I loathe small talk as much as we loathe pity.” I scoffed. Her enthusiastic nod told me her exact opinions too. “So, do you like anyone here?”
“Yeah. This is such a tight-knit community and everyone knows everyone. It’s difficult not to like everyone here.” She said. “You’ll probably find it to be like that too.” If I stuck around long enough.
“The body shocked you this morning then?”
She looked appalled. “Oh yes! Who wouldn’t be? I thought nothing like that would ever happen here… but I suppose we’re not too far from crime are we?”
“Crime?” I asked. “I thought it was a suicide.”
“Suicide? I overheard people saying she was killed.” Alison said. “Everyone says it was a murder.”
“What are they saying? How did she die?” I asked.
“They say she was strangled.” She answered my next question; who’s the suspect? “They think it’s Tanya’s husband. He’s a police officer who… no one likes him, he’s a sort of hypocrite and he’s not an agreeable person.”
We talked for a few more minutes, then the food arrived and we ate in silence. The food was so good; the pasta was perfectly cooked. It had a luscious sauce, and there were plenty of vegetables in it; which made me feel better about eating the pasta. The vegetables had been cooked so well, but I could be biased because I like vegetables.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
