Chapter Twenty-six
1070 Words
Two days later at the Blackwater Industries' building site...
A small caravan of pick-up trucks slowly made their way onto the partially abandoned building site. The early morning fog hung low like a blanket waiting to be lifted by the rising sun. The construction workers stepped out from their trucks hanging near them until the inspector gave the okay to proceed. The project manager Thomas Peterson, my partner's husband, waited with bated breath when the appropriate building inspectors rolled up in their vehicles. First day back to work and here's to hoping that all things go well.
The men and woman introduce themselves to Thomas and they shake each other's hands. Thomas then leads the inspectors to the foundation. Almost as if on cue, a black stretched limousine pulls up to the site. The driver steps around to the far passenger door and opens it. Guess who steps out? Yep, it's Jabberwocky. She stands there extruding her authority as she makes her way toward the inspectors and Thomas.
“What the hell is she doing here?!” Thomas grumbled out loud.
“Watch it, Mr. Peterson, or I can have you removed from your position with one phone call. I'm here to make sure that no more snafus happen,” she threatened in all seriousness. “Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Ma'am,” Thomas reluctantly submitted clearing his throat. All the inspectors followed suit.
“Shall we proceed,” she inquired.
As they neared an area set aside strictly for holding large equipment and supplies, a foul smell overwhelmed them. Whatever it was now smells of death. Jabberwocky insisted that Thomas Peterson go investigate what is causing the smell. He should be to handle it right? His wife is after all a homicide detective. She assumes too much. Obeying the order, he slowly but quickly approaches the stack of lumber that is partially covered up by a tarp. The tarp has clearly been removed by someone. Oddly enough it looks like nothing has been stolen. Weird. Thankfully there are IR security cameras placed throughout the building site to catch any trespassers. These will be checked by the Blackwater Security team. The closer he gets to the offending stack of lumber the worse the smell becomes.
A breeze gently picks up and starts to cause the tarp to flap. With each movement it makes, it begins to reveal the lumber and the cause for the smell. The smell is being emitted by the partially mutilated body of Rhonda Addams—our missing narcotics detective. Finding an unexpected dead body causes Thomas to jump back quickly. His face pales at the sight. So much for no more snafus.
“Well, Mr. Peterson, what is the cause for the offensive smell?” she asked in a serious tone.
“The police... need... called... ASAP!” he struggled to get out the words. He's still shaken up over the sight he just saw. “There.. a... body. Oh, my g--” he trailed off.
“What the hell are you rambling on about Mr. Peterson?!” Jabberwocky yelled while taking long strides to where he is staring in shock. “Oh, my g--” she gasped.
One of the inspectors quickly deciphers what was going on and dials 9-1-1.
Meanwhile inside the Wolfdale City Police Department...
Ever since Roger and George have been promoted, I've been trying my best to dress according to our dress code. The keyword here is trying. It's only fair. I am the senior detective and I should be setting an example, right? Sounds good anyway. A tie hangs from my neck in a sloppy manner. I still refuse to shave though. George has made an appointment with a barber for both of us. Yeah, it's time for my hair to get under control again. Hair gel only goes so far.
So this morning we are reexamining all the evidence and rereading through every interview we have conducted concerning the Peter Bryant case. His cell phone is still MIA. Knapelli, like the phone, also remains elusive. We've recently been given his place of residence by an anonymous caller—a female. I'm certain I have heard the voice somewhere before. Patrol officers have been assigned to cruise by all places that he has last been seen—The Roundhouse, the University, and his place of residence. So far, zero signs of him. Cass and I show the newbies how to type out a request for a warrant and how specific they need to be. It must always show strong probable cause in order for a judge to sign it to make it official. I don't think Roger is going to be so cocky anymore. He's realizing how frustrating it is to get everything in line just to bring in one possible person of interest. At least we don't have to show them the steps at a crime scene. Our phone rings unexpectedly causing all of us to jump.
“You gonna get that Black? You are the senior here,” Cass jest. I stuck my tongue out at her.
“Homicide, Sergeant Black speaking,” I answered the call.
“A body has been discovered at the Blackwater Industries building site...”
At the same time in the CEO's office at Blackwater Industries...
“Mr. Blackwater speaking. To whom am I speaking with,” he inquired irritated with a phone call this early in the morning.
“This is Mayor Wilkinson from Wolfdale City,” the caller began.
“Please get on with it, Madame Mayor.”
“Yes Sir, well we, unfortunately, have a snafu.”
“So. I expect you to figure out how to fix it.”
“Not so easy Mr. Blackwater. There's been a dead body found on the property by your project manager,” she finally explained.
“F-CK,” was all Mr. Blackwater could sputter out.
Wolfdale Police Department--
“F-CK,” I blurted out hanging up the phone. “Grab your gear. Another body has been found.”
“What? Whereat?” George and Roger asked one after the other.
“Blackwater Industries building site,” I replied. “You two will be in Emerson and Deeks' old assigned vehicle. We'll meet you there. Don't go near the scene until Doc Jacobson gives the okay. Hopefully, some officers are already there securing the site. Welcome to homicide, guys.”
- Writer
