Chapter Fifty-One
1285 Words
“What does that mean?” George asked, clearly confused about this whole thing. “Would that cause the Sergeant to act strange?”
“In addition to other ingredients,” Uncle Mac answered. George mouthed the words, attempting to understand what was being said.
“So basically, you’re saying that the Sergeant had been bippitied-boppitied,” Hanna huffed out in frustration.
“That’s one way of putting it,” Aunt Lila snickered at Hanna’s description of witchcraft. Hanna gave her Aunt an annoyed look.
“I guess that would explain the extreme loss of blood.”
“What blood loss? What aren’t you telling us Bet?” Uncle Mac inquired.
“He was shot. When I arrived at the scene, Hanna was tending to Sergeant Black,” George added.
“Hanna, you didn’t!” Aunt Lila yelled.
“What was I supposed to do? Just let him bleed out!” Hanna yelled back, defending her actions. “I’m a biologist. I’m a sucker for wounded animals.”
Before the conversation could go further, George’s phone rang, causing everyone to jump.
“Detective Harper, speaking,” he answered. His face fell on hearing the news at the other end.
“Another body has been found, I’m needed at the scene,” George told everyone.
Wolfdale City University Hospital Room #526...
Tiffeny and Cass were deep into their girl talk while Rocky and I were playing with the Chase toy. The television was on in the background with Rocky-friendly shows playing. How can Cass work long hours and stay away from this kid? Unfortunately, she has to. It’s the only way to help keep Wolfdale City streets safe.
“Hey, Uncle Mike,” Rocky spoke, getting my attention.
“Yeah, bud.”
“What do you get when you cross a police officer with a werewolf?” he quizzed me.
“What?” I carefully asked. Am I gonna like where this is headed?
“A K-9 unit!” he laughed. “Like Chase.”
Okay, that was cute. At that moment, Cass’ cell phone began to vibrate, disrupting the nice visit.
“Officer Peterson,” she answered. “Okay, I’ll be right there.” Turning to Tiffeny and me, she asked, “ Would it be too much for you to watch Rocky for me until Thomas gets off of work? Unfortunately, duty calls.”
“Sure, it’s not a problem,” Tiffeny quickly volunteered. “Be careful out there.”
“Be good for Uncle Mike and Aunt Tiff for me,” Cass told her son while giving him a kiss on his head. Rocky nodded his head and continued with his jokes. Laughter is the best medicine. I'm beginning to feel much better.
Back at Aunt Lila’s office...
“Where?” Aunt Lila inquired.
“I’m not supposed to say anything, since it's an active case,” George confessed. “But it does affect the biology department.”
“How, in what way?” Hanna sternly asked.
“Does the campus have an animal barn?” George put the answer in question form.
“Yes and no,” answered Hanna. “It’s technically not campus property, but it is used by the agricultural and veterinarian schools.”
“There’s a shortcut to it,” Aunt Lila interjected. “Take the path on the far side of the greenhouses. You’ll be there in no time.”
“Thanks,” George said.
“How am I to get Tiffeny’s things for her? I need to pick up paperwork from the Broken Badger too,” Hanna remembered.
“I can take you,” Uncle Mac jumped in. “Then you can tell me all about this Mitch guy.” She’s clearly not out of the woods either with this topic.
“Fine,” Hanna pouted. “How did you get here anyway? You didn’t...” Hanna twirled her finger around like a wand. I guess Uncle Mac whoo-whoos too. Who knew?
“Of course not! I brought the Roadster,” Uncle Mac spoke with a slight hint of offense, teasing his niece.
“Which one? The Packard?” Hanna inquired.
“Nope, the other one. My blue baby,” Uncle Mac grinned with a twinkle in his eyes. His roadster was a 1935 medium metallic blue Pierce Arrow 1245 series with wide white-walled tires to match. Classy!
“Okay, that is a cool vehicle,” Hanna giggled. “I’ll give you that one.” She stuck her tongue out at him.
George left as soon as he was convinced that Hanna was in good hands. Chief Edwards put her in his charge. He discovered the path that Aunt Lila described and quickly found himself at the crime scene.
A private family farm located right outside of the municipal limits...
The afternoon sun hung in the mid-October sky. The trees displayed their colors before the wind would sweep them off of their branches. The fresh country air was a welcome relief from the stuffy inner-city streets. The chrysanthemums in full bloom displayed their beauty to those passing by. However, the gruesome scene at the goat pen ruined the near-perfect day. Another college student met her demise. Madness quickly descended onto the farm. George was the first from Homicide to make it to the scene, followed by the Captain and Roger. Cass was only a few minutes behind them. Doctors Jacobson and Davidson were pulling up alongside the other police cruisers. The uniformed officers taped off the scene and tried their best to keep the relentless media vultures at bay.
“Roger, what the hell are you doing?” Captain Winston asked. He questioned the sanity of Detective Oren.
“It goes with my theory concerning these cases,” he answered as he continued on with his task, counting the goats. You read that correctly. He was counting the goats.
George, after doing his initial sweep, noticed security cameras on the property. It would be great if they caught everything. He made a note to speak with the owners about which security company installed them.
Cass and Captain Winston waited for the ME’s first examination of the victim. George found the property owners and began the interview.
“Who discovered the body first? You or the security company?”
“I found her this morning, but I didn’t call it in,” the farmer confessed.
“Why not?”
“I didn’t get a good look. I figured she was another drunk college student, and she would wake up soon.”
“So your security company called it in?” George continued to press further.
“No, I did,” the farmer’s wife jumped in, still clearly angry with her husband. “The livestock were upset. Those damned college kids always find their way here just to cause harm to the animals. That’s why we got the cameras installed.”
“Which security company did the work?”
“Black something. Black haven...I don’t remember,” the farmer answered.
“Blackwater?” George asked.
“That’s the name,” the wife said.
“You wouldn’t happen to recognize the identity of the victim?” George asked. It was a long shot.
“Of course we do. She was one of the veterinarian students. Kaitlyn MacDonald. Always running late too. Not a good habit for a vet in my opinion,” the wife volunteered the gossip. She’s clearly not impressed with the former student.
In a loud voice, Roger hollered over to Doc Jacobson, “Are there any missing appendages on the victim?”
In a wooded area near the farm, stood the same dark brown werewolf watching the orchestrated chaos, unaware that the security cameras were filming his presence.
- Writer
