I am buzzed though,” she giggled as she walked.
As she arrived at her car, she fumbled with her free hand in an attempt to search her purse for keys. As she located and grasped the car keys, she was overcome with the necessity to scratch her inner ear. The need was intense enough that she dropped her keys back into the purse to free her hand. She inserted her finger into her ear and wiggled it, being careful not to injure her eardrum with her lengthy, well-manicured nails. After a few seconds, the itching subsided. She shivered in a fashion similar to the way one would after an arm hair stimulating sneeze.
Now that her arm hair had returned to its former position, she again began to focus on the phone. As she looked back up and into the phone, there was the briefest flash of two eyes, red eyes. Being that she had partaken in the drink, she paid them no mind. There was a struggle; the sound of a purse thudding on the ground gently echoed through the garage. This was followed by the cacophony of keys and a phone crashing to the warm cement.
Chapter 19
It was morning, and the Phoenix sun made its appearance from behind the thick cement pillars of the parking garage. The surface of the garage was still warm from the previous day and heated quickly. Several police officers, medical staff, and forensic investigators stood in disarray and were investigating the scene. Some of them were trying to gather evidence, and a few were taking photographs. There were flashes of light from the cameras that competed with the morning sun.
The usual crime scene vehicles filled the garage and lined the street just outside the garage. The officials, investigators, and techs were having conversations. On the ground lay a body carefully covered with a blanket. As the discussions and inspections continued, Johnson exited his vehicle, straightened his clothing, and made a beeline for the victim’s body.
Amid the murmur of questions, theories, and suspicions, Johnson squatted by the body. His slacks tightened at his thighs and knees. He did a duck walk to position himself by the body near the rear driver’s side of the woman’s vehicle. Johnson stared at the woman’s body and pondered the last moments of the woman’s life. This scene bothered him more than most that he had investigated, and he struggled to understand why it had such an effect on him. While rooted in thought, his balance was nearly lost. He planted a hand to steady his body. The act lowered his center of gravity and adjusted his viewpoint. He caught himself before falling, and the lower angle allowed him to spot some small pieces of shattered plastic on the ground. He picked up a bit of the plastic for closer inspection. It was a small piece of a phone case. He reached into his pocket to retrieve a rubber glove.
As he pulled out the rubber glove to pick up the particles, he nearly lost his balance again. As he steadied himself, he looked to his right and spotted the victim’s phone; it had fallen and bounced underneath her vehicle. As he glanced around to see if anyone was watching him, he quickly placed the plastic pieces in an evidence bag and slowly sealed it. After he was confident that no one was watching him, he discreetly reached for the woman’s phone. He looked around to see if anyone had seen him. No one. Good, he thought and pocketed the phone.
Chapter 20
The woman’s body had been laid on a table in the coroner’s office and was finally in a sterile environment. The smells of embalming fluid, cleaning solution, and tuna permeated the air. Her body was covered up to the neck with a pristine white sheet. There was a small trickle of blood that dripped ever so slowly from the back of her neck onto the coroner’s table. The dripping created a soft metallic sound as it fell onto the cold, shiny stainless steel.
The coroner seemed young for his position; he was in his midthirties and had begun to become a bit numb to the process. He had just received the victim’s body and had not started much in the way of the autopsy process. He turned the woman’s neck gently to one side and lifted her hair. Some of her hair evaded his grasp, and the once-brilliant brunette locks fell less than gracefully to the metal table. He leaned in to get a closer perspective at the puncture wound at the base of her skull.
Chapter 21
Daylight was in full effect, and Johnson returned to his office and slowly latched the door. He surveyed his office and closed the blinds. Placing himself between his leather office chair and his desk, he slowly sank into his chair. He once again unlocked and opened his drawer—slowly. He tilted his head to look at the small medallion contained therein. After staring at it for some time, he slowly closed the drawer, locked it, and double-checked to ensure that it was locked.
Johnson leaned back in his chair to think. Remembering the victim’s phone in his pocket, he removed it and attempted to open it. It was locked and required a fingerprint to open it. He thought to himself, Technology. He placed the phone back in his pocket and briskly exited his office.
Chapter 22
Johnson burst into the coroner’s office, and the door swung shut in his wake.
“Detective Johnson, I would say it’s good to see you…” He paused and looked Johnson up and down. “But given the circumstances…,” said the coroner.
Johnson was focused and did not pay the coroner much attention. He grunted a monosyllabic greeting, and the coroner frowned at him.
“Any ID?” Johnson asked impatiently.
Seeing that Johnson was intent on completing a mission, the coroner overlooked the phatic communication slip rarely present in the detective’s behavior. “Her name is Kaylene Schroeder,” replied the coroner.
“Can I see the body?” Johnson asked, trying to be more mindful of his earlier rude behavior. Uncle Mike sure would not have approved, thought Johnson.
“Sure, but it’s not pretty.”
“Are any of them ever?” snapped Johnson, wondering how the coroner could be so detached. Maybe that is an effect of doing the job, thought Johnson.
“I guess you’re right. Someone’s in a mood today,” said the coroner, speaking out of the corner of his mouth.
Johnson gently pushed the coroner aside and headed into the morgue. As he moved past the coroner, he smelled what he quickly recognized as tuna. Johnson sniffed and wrinkled his nose. How can he eat at a time like this? thought Johnson. Nasty ass.
The coroner turned to follow Johnson and joined him at the shiny metal table where Ms. Schroeder lay. His proximity was exceptionally close to Johnson, uncomfortably close. Johnson got another whiff of tuna and sidestepped to get the coroner out of his personal space.
The coroner turned his focus to the body and gestured at the back of the neck. “The base of her neck was punctured.”
Leaning in to get a closer look, Johnson asked, “What other injuries does she have?”
“That’s the thing, no other injuries and not much regarding any signs of struggle,” replied the coroner.
“Can I have a minute?” asked Johnson.
“Sure. Why? What do you need?”
What Johnson needed was some privacy and time to complete his mission. He required the coroner to vacate the room. He placed the victim’s hand in his and growled, “I need a freaking minute.”
The coroner was baffled by Johnson’s actions but spotted the caress
