As a white American who was born and raised in Minnesota, I come from a place of privilege. Tens of thousands of others are not as lucky as I am. Earlier this week, George Floyd – black resident of Minneapolis – died after being restrained by a Minneapolis police officer. The officer in question held his knee on Mr. Floyd's neck for approximately ten minutes while three fellow officers watched and a crowd of onlookers gathered with phones in hand to record the incident.
The Hennepin County attorney – Mike Freeman – has essentially said that the officers who have been fired won't be charged. The issue I have with this is that the officer in question – Derek Chauvin – is being held to a different standard than anyone else would be. If the actions in question had taken place between a shop owner and George Floyd and the shop owner had held his or her knee against the neck of George Floyd and resulted in the death of George Floyd, the shop owner would be in jail or at least facing charges of some sort.
I take little comfort in the fact that a police officer with a history of violence is free. Yes, he has lost his job which is a small step in the right direction but where is the justice? Citizens of America shouldn't fear cops. We shouldn't have to worry about being victimized by those who are employed to serve and protect. The question is "protect who"? Are they employed to protect each other? Are they employed to protect their bosses? Are they employed to protect one race from another race?
Can those divides be overcome? Is the racial divide in cities like Minneapolis, St. Cloud, Rochester, Austin, Worthington and countless others too ingrained to be overcome?
The answer is a resounding NO. By making sure that police officers are diverse is a tremendous first step. Weed out the violent and sometimes unstable officers. Have clear procedures which are adhered to. Hold offending officers accountable for their actions. Yes, that means actually charging, arresting, and sentencing those who make poor decisions while on duty. Think twice about actions. In an era where virtually everything is captured on video, there is evidence from multiple angles.
All of the strife and destruction in both Minneapolis and St. Paul could have been avoided. The murder of a man who committed a petty crime was unjustified. It's sad that the actions of one police officer have resulted in millions of dollars of damage and destruction. It has hopefully opened the eyes of the nation to the racism and profiling which exists in clear view of so many. It won't end, either, without true change.
Where does this all go, though? Where are we headed both as a state and a country? What ends this? Where is the true leadership? It isn't coming from the top, i.e. the president. It must and will happen from a community level. The effected neighborhoods will rise up and overcome. It's how change happens. It happens on a local basis. We are better than this.
Showing posts with label murder. Show all posts
Showing posts with label murder. Show all posts
Friday, May 29, 2020
Friday, December 27, 2013
A murder story - part twenty-nine
“I’m torn, Danny.”’ Miranda said with a small bit of omelet in her mouth. “On one hand I’m obviously torn up about Becky’s murder and just feel like I could cry at a moment’s notice and feel like I could be next. On the other hand I want to go all Dexter on this mother-fucker and stalk him, take him and turn him into chum.”
Danny leaned back, “Wow, I knew you were pissed off about Becky’s murder but hopefully you don’t have the instinct of a vengeful murderer somewhere deep inside you.”
“I” Miranda paused, “I don’t know, Danny. If I found out who this was I would have no problem pulling the trigger in any situation.”
Danny sat, slowly chewing his mountain of breakfast food, absorbing what Miranda had just said.
“Maybe,” Danny said cautiously, “you should take the rest of the day off.”
“Yeah,” Miranda agreed, “I might be able to at least catch a nap or find something to take care of to distract me from this shit. I haven’t been to my apartment in a few days, I could catch up on laundry, I suppose.”
“Hey, I’ll cover for you no matter what it is you choose to do but definitely get some rest. We both only got about 5 hours of sleep last night and I know how taxing this is on you.”
“Sounds good,” Miranda paused to yawn, “I could use a bit of a break to catch up.”
“Then it’s settled. We’ll finish up here and I’ll drop you off at your place.”
The pair quickly ate the remainder of their breakfasts, paid the bill and made their way to Danny’s Durango.
As they headed back across town to Miranda’s apartment, Miranda turned to look behind the vehicle.
“Um, Danny. I’ve been watching that car behind us and I think we’re being followed.”
“Are you sure?” Danny asked as he began scanning his side-view and rear-view mirrors.
“Yeah,” Miranda said as she slumped down a bit, “and that same car was in the restaurant parking lot. It’s just a coincidence, right?”
“At this point I have no idea.”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!
Danny leaned back, “Wow, I knew you were pissed off about Becky’s murder but hopefully you don’t have the instinct of a vengeful murderer somewhere deep inside you.”
“I” Miranda paused, “I don’t know, Danny. If I found out who this was I would have no problem pulling the trigger in any situation.”
Danny sat, slowly chewing his mountain of breakfast food, absorbing what Miranda had just said.
“Maybe,” Danny said cautiously, “you should take the rest of the day off.”
“Yeah,” Miranda agreed, “I might be able to at least catch a nap or find something to take care of to distract me from this shit. I haven’t been to my apartment in a few days, I could catch up on laundry, I suppose.”
“Hey, I’ll cover for you no matter what it is you choose to do but definitely get some rest. We both only got about 5 hours of sleep last night and I know how taxing this is on you.”
“Sounds good,” Miranda paused to yawn, “I could use a bit of a break to catch up.”
“Then it’s settled. We’ll finish up here and I’ll drop you off at your place.”
The pair quickly ate the remainder of their breakfasts, paid the bill and made their way to Danny’s Durango.
As they headed back across town to Miranda’s apartment, Miranda turned to look behind the vehicle.
“Um, Danny. I’ve been watching that car behind us and I think we’re being followed.”
“Are you sure?” Danny asked as he began scanning his side-view and rear-view mirrors.
“Yeah,” Miranda said as she slumped down a bit, “and that same car was in the restaurant parking lot. It’s just a coincidence, right?”
“At this point I have no idea.”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!
Monday, December 23, 2013
A murder story - part twenty-eight
“I’ll get those orders in for y’all.”
“Jesus, Miranda, it wouldn’t kill you to eat something that contained meat.”
“I’m just not that hungry this morning, Danny. Given the circumstances I think you can understand why I’m feeling a bit uneasy.”
“I totally understand,” Danny said with a tone of concern in his voice, “just don’t be afraid to tell me anything and everything that is on your mind. This is a rough case to be working but I’m 100% here for you for whatever you-”
“Danny.” Miranda said flatly. “Do you see that guy sitting against the wall on the other side of the restaurant?”
Danny began to turn.
“Don’t turn,” Miranda said in a hushed voice, “and don’t draw any attention to yourself. That guy came in about five minutes after us and he is staring at me. I’ve seen him staring at me since he walked in here.”
“Yeah, I see him,” Danny stated, “but what do you want me to do? We can’t arrest someone for staring. Maybe he just thinks that you’re attractive -- which you are -- and he’s just rather obvious about checking you out.”
“Or maybe he’s fucking following me.”
“That would be a bit blatant.”
“Dammit Danny, I don’t think that anything is blatant. We’re talking about a killer who left his damn sweatshirt behind after killing my best fucking friend. I don’t know if blatant is in this fucker’s vocabulary.”
“Miranda, I can’t honestly say that someone staring at you in any situation is reason to think that the person staring is a cold-blooded killer.”
“Maybe you’re right, Danny.” Miranda said as she reached for her coffee. “Maybe I need to just take a step back and stop thinking that someone is out to get me.”
“That might be just the thing -- to ground yourself and get back to reality.”
“Here you folks go.” The older waitress said as she placed their plates on the table. “Can I get y’all anything else?”
“No thanks.” Danny said as he picked up his fork with one hand and began drowning his pancakes in syrup with the other. “That should do us but just keep the coffee coming, though. Thanks.”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!
“Jesus, Miranda, it wouldn’t kill you to eat something that contained meat.”
“I’m just not that hungry this morning, Danny. Given the circumstances I think you can understand why I’m feeling a bit uneasy.”
“I totally understand,” Danny said with a tone of concern in his voice, “just don’t be afraid to tell me anything and everything that is on your mind. This is a rough case to be working but I’m 100% here for you for whatever you-”
“Danny.” Miranda said flatly. “Do you see that guy sitting against the wall on the other side of the restaurant?”
Danny began to turn.
“Don’t turn,” Miranda said in a hushed voice, “and don’t draw any attention to yourself. That guy came in about five minutes after us and he is staring at me. I’ve seen him staring at me since he walked in here.”
“Yeah, I see him,” Danny stated, “but what do you want me to do? We can’t arrest someone for staring. Maybe he just thinks that you’re attractive -- which you are -- and he’s just rather obvious about checking you out.”
“Or maybe he’s fucking following me.”
“That would be a bit blatant.”
“Dammit Danny, I don’t think that anything is blatant. We’re talking about a killer who left his damn sweatshirt behind after killing my best fucking friend. I don’t know if blatant is in this fucker’s vocabulary.”
“Miranda, I can’t honestly say that someone staring at you in any situation is reason to think that the person staring is a cold-blooded killer.”
“Maybe you’re right, Danny.” Miranda said as she reached for her coffee. “Maybe I need to just take a step back and stop thinking that someone is out to get me.”
“That might be just the thing -- to ground yourself and get back to reality.”
“Here you folks go.” The older waitress said as she placed their plates on the table. “Can I get y’all anything else?”
“No thanks.” Danny said as he picked up his fork with one hand and began drowning his pancakes in syrup with the other. “That should do us but just keep the coffee coming, though. Thanks.”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!
Friday, December 20, 2013
A murder story - part twenty-seven
As Miranda looked over the menu, she began talking. “So, how do I deal with this? How do I keep working this case when all I want to do is find the son of a bitch who murdered Becky and rip the fucker’s throat out?”
“Well,” Danny sat his phone down on the table, “the only thing you can do is pour those feelings into solving this case. As tempting as it is to simply rip someone’s throat out, it’s not really how us civilized police work.”
“I know Danny,” Miranda said as she looked out the restaurant’s window, “but this feels so damn personal to me after this morning. I mean, nobody ever thinks they’ll get a call at four in the morning only to find out that the call they’re going on is their best friend’s murder.”
“Hey, I bet you’re not the only officer in America to roll up on the murder of someone they knew and loved.”
“But it’s the evidence we found. I just feel like this person knows me. I don’t think you’ve ever worked a homicide case where you felt that the killer personally knew you.”
“Well,” Danny said as he exhaled deeply, “you’ve sorta got me there. But we don’t want to get the cart ahead of the horse, so to speak. Yeah, we found some evidence that seems like it’s someone who is at least familiar with you but to think that someone is out there killing people, getting closer and closer to you, is a bit of a stretch.”
“Are you just saying that to calm me down Danny?”
“No way Miranda, you know that I’m no bullshitter and I’m not one to just believe things based on a few details which more than likely are just a coincidence.”
“What will you two be having this morning?” A grey-haired waitress asked as she sat down silverware wrapped in a napkin for the officers.
Danny tapped his right index finger on the table. “I’ll take the tall stack flapjack special with scrambled eggs and bacon.”
“And for you miss?”
“Uh, I’ll have the egg white omelet and a side of wheat toast.”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!
“Well,” Danny sat his phone down on the table, “the only thing you can do is pour those feelings into solving this case. As tempting as it is to simply rip someone’s throat out, it’s not really how us civilized police work.”
“I know Danny,” Miranda said as she looked out the restaurant’s window, “but this feels so damn personal to me after this morning. I mean, nobody ever thinks they’ll get a call at four in the morning only to find out that the call they’re going on is their best friend’s murder.”
“Hey, I bet you’re not the only officer in America to roll up on the murder of someone they knew and loved.”
“But it’s the evidence we found. I just feel like this person knows me. I don’t think you’ve ever worked a homicide case where you felt that the killer personally knew you.”
“Well,” Danny said as he exhaled deeply, “you’ve sorta got me there. But we don’t want to get the cart ahead of the horse, so to speak. Yeah, we found some evidence that seems like it’s someone who is at least familiar with you but to think that someone is out there killing people, getting closer and closer to you, is a bit of a stretch.”
“Are you just saying that to calm me down Danny?”
“No way Miranda, you know that I’m no bullshitter and I’m not one to just believe things based on a few details which more than likely are just a coincidence.”
“What will you two be having this morning?” A grey-haired waitress asked as she sat down silverware wrapped in a napkin for the officers.
Danny tapped his right index finger on the table. “I’ll take the tall stack flapjack special with scrambled eggs and bacon.”
“And for you miss?”
“Uh, I’ll have the egg white omelet and a side of wheat toast.”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
A murder story - part twenty-six
“This is different Danny. Becky was my rock when my parents got divorced. She got me through the worst part of my life I had ever experienced. We went to prom together rather than find dates. We even got a place together after our first year of college. We were inseparable. Vacations, holidays, everything. Now she’s gone and the person who did this is going to fucking pay.”
Miranda punched the dashboard hard, shaking her fist in pain afterward.
“I could lie and say I totally understand,” Danny offered up, “but this has to be unimaginably tough for you to go through but just remember that I’m here for you. Remember, too, that the police will catch who ever it is that committed these murders. I’d personally love for it to be us who locks this shit bag up but beggars can’t be choosers.”
Miranda turned towards Danny, a slow flow of tears cascaded down her face.
“I’d like nothing more than to be the officer who cuffed this fuckhead and rubbed his face in the dirt while I read him his rights. This one is sorta personal to me, Danny.”
“I can totally get that but just remember that we work with the law and we do things by the book.”
Danny turned the steering wheel of the Durango and the vehicle bounced into the parking lot of The Evergreen Diner.
“Here,” Danny handed Miranda a couple tissues from the vehicle’s center console, “I think we’ll both have clearer heads once we get ourselves some food.”
“Agreed.” Miranda said as she wiped the tears from her face and composed herself. “Even though I don’t have much of an appetite, getting away from that scene for a while should do me some good.”
Danny and Miranda hopped out of the black Durango and walked towards the front door of the small diner. A bell above the door rang as Danny opened the door for Miranda and the two walked in, greeted by a cheerful lady.
“Just the two of you today?”
“Yep, and a booth if it’s not too much trouble.” Danny said as he looked down at his phone, scrolling through text messages.
“Can I get you folks anything to drink?” The cheerful lady asked as she handed Danny and Miranda menus.
“A pot of coffee for me.” Danny replied, his eyes still glued to his phone.
“And for you, miss?”
“Coffee for me, too, thanks.”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!
Miranda punched the dashboard hard, shaking her fist in pain afterward.
“I could lie and say I totally understand,” Danny offered up, “but this has to be unimaginably tough for you to go through but just remember that I’m here for you. Remember, too, that the police will catch who ever it is that committed these murders. I’d personally love for it to be us who locks this shit bag up but beggars can’t be choosers.”
Miranda turned towards Danny, a slow flow of tears cascaded down her face.
“I’d like nothing more than to be the officer who cuffed this fuckhead and rubbed his face in the dirt while I read him his rights. This one is sorta personal to me, Danny.”
“I can totally get that but just remember that we work with the law and we do things by the book.”
Danny turned the steering wheel of the Durango and the vehicle bounced into the parking lot of The Evergreen Diner.
“Here,” Danny handed Miranda a couple tissues from the vehicle’s center console, “I think we’ll both have clearer heads once we get ourselves some food.”
“Agreed.” Miranda said as she wiped the tears from her face and composed herself. “Even though I don’t have much of an appetite, getting away from that scene for a while should do me some good.”
Danny and Miranda hopped out of the black Durango and walked towards the front door of the small diner. A bell above the door rang as Danny opened the door for Miranda and the two walked in, greeted by a cheerful lady.
“Just the two of you today?”
“Yep, and a booth if it’s not too much trouble.” Danny said as he looked down at his phone, scrolling through text messages.
“Can I get you folks anything to drink?” The cheerful lady asked as she handed Danny and Miranda menus.
“A pot of coffee for me.” Danny replied, his eyes still glued to his phone.
“And for you, miss?”
“Coffee for me, too, thanks.”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!
Thursday, December 12, 2013
A murder story - part twenty-five
The pair walked, holding hands, around the back and then the side of the townhome development.
Miranda had never seen something as public in terms of affection as holding hands with Danny before this morning. Was this a new leaf, some reason for this newly found public affection or was he doing this simply to be supportive and caring in the wake of the murder of her best friend?
Careful to avoid more workplace scrutiny than they already faced from Homicide Chief Perkins, the pair parted hands as they rounded the corner and approached the team of officers working inside and outside of the townhome.
“Chief,” Danny said loudly as he approached, “Grove and I are gonna go grab breakfast.”
“Alright you two, no hanky panky while you’re gone!” Perkins chortled and laughed, resulting in a coughing fit which yielded another disgusting yellow loogie on the ground all due to his own pathetic joke.
“Thanks Chief, we should be back in an hour.” Danny turned and walked towards his haphazardly parked Dodge Durango and started the engine as Miranda slowly climbed up into the passenger seat.
“Well,” Danny began, placing his hand on Miranda’s left leg, “how are you holding up?”
“Outside of my best friend being brutally murdered, totally shitty.”
Miranda stared out the passenger window as Danny’s hand stayed motionless on her leg.
“I can’t even imagine how tough it must be seeing your best friend dead like that.”
“Yeah.” Miranda said flatly.
“I’m here to talk to when you’re ready.” Danny offered up, quite the change from his usual joking self.
Miranda turned from staring blankly out the passenger window at passing suburbia and looked at Danny.
“I am just so mad, Danny. I don’t know whether to bottle it up and find this piece of shit or cry for a day.”
“I know you Miranda, you are always the type to put on a brave face no matter how bad things get.”
Miranda had never seen something as public in terms of affection as holding hands with Danny before this morning. Was this a new leaf, some reason for this newly found public affection or was he doing this simply to be supportive and caring in the wake of the murder of her best friend?
Careful to avoid more workplace scrutiny than they already faced from Homicide Chief Perkins, the pair parted hands as they rounded the corner and approached the team of officers working inside and outside of the townhome.
“Chief,” Danny said loudly as he approached, “Grove and I are gonna go grab breakfast.”
“Alright you two, no hanky panky while you’re gone!” Perkins chortled and laughed, resulting in a coughing fit which yielded another disgusting yellow loogie on the ground all due to his own pathetic joke.
“Thanks Chief, we should be back in an hour.” Danny turned and walked towards his haphazardly parked Dodge Durango and started the engine as Miranda slowly climbed up into the passenger seat.
“Well,” Danny began, placing his hand on Miranda’s left leg, “how are you holding up?”
“Outside of my best friend being brutally murdered, totally shitty.”
Miranda stared out the passenger window as Danny’s hand stayed motionless on her leg.
“I can’t even imagine how tough it must be seeing your best friend dead like that.”
“Yeah.” Miranda said flatly.
“I’m here to talk to when you’re ready.” Danny offered up, quite the change from his usual joking self.
Miranda turned from staring blankly out the passenger window at passing suburbia and looked at Danny.
“I am just so mad, Danny. I don’t know whether to bottle it up and find this piece of shit or cry for a day.”
“I know you Miranda, you are always the type to put on a brave face no matter how bad things get.”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!
Monday, December 09, 2013
A murder story - part twenty-four
“That’s assuming quite a few things Miranda.”
“Well, shit Danny, don’t you think that there has to be some sort of connection between my best damn friend and Jenkins? Is there some other connection that I can’t even fucking grasp here that resulted in my best friend being killed in the middle of the night?”
Miranda returned to scouring the ground for evidence, her face beet red now.
Danny walked to her side, making his way through the trees and bushes.
“Hey,” Danny said as he placed his hand on her shoulder, “I know that this one is tough, particularly for you but we can’t do our jobs effectively if we’re jumping to conclusions about what sort of connection there is or who the murderer could be. Let’s wrap this area up and go grab some breakfast.”
“That sounds good Danny.” Miranda continued crawling along the ground, searching the greening grass and short trees for evidence. “I could really use a break from this one but I know we’ll find the fucker who did this.”
“That’s the spirit Miranda.” Danny crawled alongside his partner as the team approached the end of the patch of trees and bushes which lined a portion of the pond’s shore. “I can already taste that breakfast -- bacon, eggs covered in ketchup--”
“God dammit Danny,” Miranda interrupted, “there you go again with ketchup. You almost made me puke. Who -- except you -- puts ketchup on their eggs?”
“I have it on good authority that the Queen of England puts ketchup on her eggs and if I were forty years older I’d eat her eggs... if you know what I mean!”
“Nice,” Miranda said bluntly at her partner’s joke, “now I’m never gonna get that image of you between the Queen’s thighs out of my head.”
“Who said I was between her thighs?”
“God,” Miranda laughed at Danny’s more crude joke, “aren’t you afraid you’d break her hip or something Dan?”
“That just a risk you take when eating with royalty.”
“Yuck.” Miranda said as she laughed at Danny’s off-color humor. “Now that I’m practically sick, let’s go get that breakfast.”
“Well, shit Danny, don’t you think that there has to be some sort of connection between my best damn friend and Jenkins? Is there some other connection that I can’t even fucking grasp here that resulted in my best friend being killed in the middle of the night?”
Miranda returned to scouring the ground for evidence, her face beet red now.
Danny walked to her side, making his way through the trees and bushes.
“Hey,” Danny said as he placed his hand on her shoulder, “I know that this one is tough, particularly for you but we can’t do our jobs effectively if we’re jumping to conclusions about what sort of connection there is or who the murderer could be. Let’s wrap this area up and go grab some breakfast.”
“That sounds good Danny.” Miranda continued crawling along the ground, searching the greening grass and short trees for evidence. “I could really use a break from this one but I know we’ll find the fucker who did this.”
“That’s the spirit Miranda.” Danny crawled alongside his partner as the team approached the end of the patch of trees and bushes which lined a portion of the pond’s shore. “I can already taste that breakfast -- bacon, eggs covered in ketchup--”
“God dammit Danny,” Miranda interrupted, “there you go again with ketchup. You almost made me puke. Who -- except you -- puts ketchup on their eggs?”
“I have it on good authority that the Queen of England puts ketchup on her eggs and if I were forty years older I’d eat her eggs... if you know what I mean!”
“Nice,” Miranda said bluntly at her partner’s joke, “now I’m never gonna get that image of you between the Queen’s thighs out of my head.”
“Who said I was between her thighs?”
“God,” Miranda laughed at Danny’s more crude joke, “aren’t you afraid you’d break her hip or something Dan?”
“That just a risk you take when eating with royalty.”
“Yuck.” Miranda said as she laughed at Danny’s off-color humor. “Now that I’m practically sick, let’s go get that breakfast.”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!
Friday, December 06, 2013
A murder story - part twenty-three
“Interesting thought Miranda but what makes you think that could even be a possibility?”
Danny returned to crawling on the damp ground, scouring the area for any trace of evidence that could lead to the murderer of Becky Pinkowski.
“I dunno Danny, this is just one of those series of crimes that seems to defy logic. I mean, what’s the connection between my best friend who is 24 years old and a divorcee in her mid-thirties?”
“Go on...” Danny listened more intently now.
“Becky never had an enemy in her entire life. She was careful, almost to a fault, about who she dated. Then there’s Emily Jenkins who spent her entire marriage sleeping with other guys while her husband remained faithful. Even after her divorce she was banging it out with God only knows how many fucking guys. Becky, to the best of my knowledge, had only slept with three different guys in her entire life.”
“Huh. You said ‘to the best of your knowledge’ when you mentioned Pinkowski. What’s that about?”
Danny stood up and waited for Miranda’s response.
“I just mean that Becky was sometimes secretive.”
“Secretive how?”
Miranda stood up, turning to face Danny.
“She was open to me about certain things. She never talked much about her relationships and I don’t think I ever once met someone she was dating. I can totally get keeping things private but what if..?”
“What if what, Miranda?”
“Well, what if Becky had something to hide about her dating life?”
“Okay,” Danny paused before asking the remainder of his rather loaded question, “do you mean that she may have been dating a married guy?”
“It would be the one common element between Becky and Emily Jenkins. I mean, assuming that Jenkins was sleeping with at least one married guy -- which isn’t too much of a stretch in my mind and assuming that Becky kept the details of her relationships secret for that particular reason.”
Danny returned to crawling on the damp ground, scouring the area for any trace of evidence that could lead to the murderer of Becky Pinkowski.
“I dunno Danny, this is just one of those series of crimes that seems to defy logic. I mean, what’s the connection between my best friend who is 24 years old and a divorcee in her mid-thirties?”
“Go on...” Danny listened more intently now.
“Becky never had an enemy in her entire life. She was careful, almost to a fault, about who she dated. Then there’s Emily Jenkins who spent her entire marriage sleeping with other guys while her husband remained faithful. Even after her divorce she was banging it out with God only knows how many fucking guys. Becky, to the best of my knowledge, had only slept with three different guys in her entire life.”
“Huh. You said ‘to the best of your knowledge’ when you mentioned Pinkowski. What’s that about?”
Danny stood up and waited for Miranda’s response.
“I just mean that Becky was sometimes secretive.”
“Secretive how?”
Miranda stood up, turning to face Danny.
“She was open to me about certain things. She never talked much about her relationships and I don’t think I ever once met someone she was dating. I can totally get keeping things private but what if..?”
“What if what, Miranda?”
“Well, what if Becky had something to hide about her dating life?”
“Okay,” Danny paused before asking the remainder of his rather loaded question, “do you mean that she may have been dating a married guy?”
“It would be the one common element between Becky and Emily Jenkins. I mean, assuming that Jenkins was sleeping with at least one married guy -- which isn’t too much of a stretch in my mind and assuming that Becky kept the details of her relationships secret for that particular reason.”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!
Wednesday, December 04, 2013
A murder story - part twenty-two
“Just to make sure everything is what?” Miranda interrupted Danny mid-sentence. “Do you think that this sick fuck could know where I live or something?”
“Hey, Miranda, we need to face the facts here. If this is someone who knows or knew you, this person found your friend and could probably find out where you live. Who the hell knows what or who we could be dealing with -- we just need to stay sane about it and be cautious.”
“Shit Danny,” Miranda said in a bit of an exhausted tone, “I suppose you are right.”
“Wow.” Danny said somewhat flatly.
“Wow what?”
“Well,” Danny began to explain “I think this might be the first time you’ve ever admitted that I was right.”
“It just never ends with you, does it?” Miranda laughed for the first time since arriving at the scene or her friend’s murder.
“Nope. If I couldn’t eek out a victory once in a while I’d probably end up like Perkins.”
Both Danny and Miranda laughed as they continued walking toward the somewhat wooded pond behind the townhomes. Danny walked behind Miranda both to ensure that no early-morning prowlers would endanger his partner and girlfriend and to enjoy the view of the young officer’s firm butt as she walked at a rather fast pace.
“Alright Miranda, let’s make sure we cover every damn inch of this area. If there was something as sizeable as a sweatshirt left behind there could be God only knows what lying around on the ground.”
“Hey, Danny,” Miranda asked loudly from in front of her partner, “did we get anything back from the rape kit on Emily Jenkins?”
“Um,” Danny paused and stood up, “I haven’t heard anything yet. Any particular reason?”
“Well, Danny, what if we’re thinking totally wrong on these murders?”
“How so Miranda?”
“We always go into a murder case assuming that it’s a guy who is the murderer -- and that’s usually the correct assumption. But,” Miranda paused before uttering something that could be considered completely ludicrous, “what if this is a woman we’re looking for?”
“Hey, Miranda, we need to face the facts here. If this is someone who knows or knew you, this person found your friend and could probably find out where you live. Who the hell knows what or who we could be dealing with -- we just need to stay sane about it and be cautious.”
“Shit Danny,” Miranda said in a bit of an exhausted tone, “I suppose you are right.”
“Wow.” Danny said somewhat flatly.
“Wow what?”
“Well,” Danny began to explain “I think this might be the first time you’ve ever admitted that I was right.”
“It just never ends with you, does it?” Miranda laughed for the first time since arriving at the scene or her friend’s murder.
“Nope. If I couldn’t eek out a victory once in a while I’d probably end up like Perkins.”
Both Danny and Miranda laughed as they continued walking toward the somewhat wooded pond behind the townhomes. Danny walked behind Miranda both to ensure that no early-morning prowlers would endanger his partner and girlfriend and to enjoy the view of the young officer’s firm butt as she walked at a rather fast pace.
“Alright Miranda, let’s make sure we cover every damn inch of this area. If there was something as sizeable as a sweatshirt left behind there could be God only knows what lying around on the ground.”
“Hey, Danny,” Miranda asked loudly from in front of her partner, “did we get anything back from the rape kit on Emily Jenkins?”
“Um,” Danny paused and stood up, “I haven’t heard anything yet. Any particular reason?”
“Well, Danny, what if we’re thinking totally wrong on these murders?”
“How so Miranda?”
“We always go into a murder case assuming that it’s a guy who is the murderer -- and that’s usually the correct assumption. But,” Miranda paused before uttering something that could be considered completely ludicrous, “what if this is a woman we’re looking for?”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!
Thursday, February 07, 2013
A murder story - part twenty-one
Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the ninth part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. I was writing this as part of NaNoWriMo -- sadly I didn't crack the 50,000 word mark but the writing continues...
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
“Miranda,” Danny began, “about this sweatshirt.”
“Yeah?” Miranda responded apprehensively.
“Let’s just say that it is from someone you at least went to the academy with.” Danny paused, carefully crafting the rest of his question. “It’s only been a few years, Miranda, do you remember anyone in your class who may have seemed a bit, uh, off?”
“Not at all.” Miranda replied as she stood up. “We were all in our early twenties, Danny. Everyone probably had some issues they were dealing with. I was still dealing with my parents getting divorced and I talked about it with a few friends I made along the way but I don’t recall anyone else talking about anything overly weird or traumatic or flat out fucked up.”
“Well,” Danny uncharacteristically stammered, “was there anyone who may have had a crush on you?”
“Fuck, so you think it could be someone from my class? What was all that bullshit about not jumping to conclusions?” Miranda’s voice rose and her face began to fill with a combination of anger and fear. “I don’t know. My class was about 75% guys so there could have been someone but if there was someone who had some sort of creepy crush on me, I never knew about it or noticed anything.”
“Are you sure, Miranda?” Danny looked into Miranda’s piercing blue eyes. “I just want to put any possibility of someone maybe being after you out of my head and yours.”
“I’m sure Danny. I am 110% sure that this isn’t some sort of sick unrequited love bullshit the led some twisted fuck to kill two women to get my attention.”
Miranda returned to inspecting the soft ground surrounding the development’s pond with more intensity than before. Even with intense focus her mind wandered back to her days spent in the police academy. She had definitely caught the eye of a few of her fellow classmates but at the time simply brushed it off as guys being guys. She was always careful not to lead anyone on and as she began to recount those earlier days she couldn’t recall anyone in particular who jumped out to her as being a future murderer.
“Kline, Grove.” A stern voice came over the team’s radios simultaneously.
“This is Kline.”
“We got an I.D. off of those prints you guys found at yesterday’s crime scene in the car.” Perkins exhaled into the open mic, “You guys should come around to the front of the house here.”
“Holy shit” Miranda exclaimed, “I can’t believe they got something back so soon! This could be the big break we need on these cases!”
“Let’s not get too fucking excited, Miranda. It’s never a sure thing until you’ve got her naked - so to speak.”
“Jesus, Danny,” Miranda turned to look at her partner as they walked at a fast pace towards the front of the townhome development, “but I don’t think you should call it a sure thing until you’re fucking her!”
Miranda laughed heartily at her own joke, seeming to top Danny’s penchant for crude sex jokes for once.
“Hell,” Danny began, “I was gonna say it’s never a sure thing until you’re pulling your dick out of her but I was trying to keep things classy.”
“Yeah, that’s you,” Miranda laughed in her well-known fake laugh, “classy as hell.”
The two turned the corner and began to walk in front of the row of painfully similar townhomes, not too far away they could see Homicide Chief Donald Perkins puffing away on yet another cheap cigarette as he held his dirty aluminum coffee mug, alternating between sips of coffee and deep drags on his cigarette.
“Alright guys,” Perkins paused as he threw his cigarette on the ground and artfully snuffed it out with his left foot, “like I mentioned on the radio we’ve got an I.D. on the prints you guys pulled from yesterday’s crime scene.”
Miranda and Danny both made hand gestures for Perkins to get to the meat of the story.
“Well,” Perkins exhaled a thick cloud of smoke from his nostrils, “the prints were yours Grove.”
“What the holy fuck?” Miranda screamed, her face instantly red. “There’s no fucking way those are mine!”
“Jesus, Don”, Danny exclaimed, “Do you have any idea how to say something delicately?”
“Hey Danny, you guys wanted to know the news so I told you. If you wanted shit delivered softly to you you should have ordered a fucking flower bouquet.” Perkins turned a coughed, hacking up some phlegm in the process and spitting on the lawn.
Miranda stood, holding back whatever anger was raging inside of her.
Danny turned to place his hand on Miranda’s shoulder but all Miranda did was walk away, kicking the grass as she walked.
“Where does this leave things,” Danny tried to regain his composure as he addressed Perkins, “I mean you can’t honestly think that Grove was actually with our first murder victim, can you?”
“Dammit Danny, the prints were there and the prints were her’s.”
“Well, what if?” Danny began, stopping mid-sentence, “What if, and this has to be it, what if the prints were planted?”
“Are you fucking serious Danny?” Perkins laughed a deep, gravelly laugh. “Who the hell would go to the work of planting prints?”
“Well based on what we found out behind these townhomes, it’s starting to look that our murderer just might know Grove.”
“Don’t leave me out of the loop Danny, what did you guys find?”
“It was a sweatshirt from the college Grove attended.” Kline offered up flatly. “And it had her graduating year embroidered on it, too.”
“Well that’s a bit of a twist now, isn’t it?” Perkins dug his heel into the grass, waiting for more details. “What else do you have that’s gonna start to convince me that Grove wasn’t at least with our first murder victim?”
“Well,” Danny paused as Miranda nudged him in the ribs, shaking her head no, “Miranda was with me.”
“Of course she was,” Perkins said, pausing to spit a nasty loogie on the grass, “she’s your damn partner but that doesn’t clear up where she was a three in the morning Danny.”
“But it does, Donald. She was with me at 3 AM.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, does that mean?” Perkins asked, stammering the whole time.
“Yeah, it means that we have been sort of dating and on the night that Emily Jenkins was murdered, Miranda was with me.” Danny stopped and waited for a reaction from his boss.
“Is this true, Grove?” Perkins hiked up his pants as he waited for an answer.
“Yes, Donald, it’s true.”
Miranda stood with an almost blank expression on her face as she processed the fact that she was working at the scene of the murder of her best friend and had just confessed to having an intimate relationship with one of her superiors to clear her own name all before 8 AM.
“Hey, I’ll accept all responsibility for beginning a relationship with a co-worker and not going through the proper channels to”
“Damn right you will -- both of you!” Perkins interrupted Danny as he pulled another cigarette from the pack residing in his shirt pocket. “While we’re having sharey-sharey time, why don’t you two get out any other little secrets you have so we can get back to work!”
“Nothing else, Donald.” Danny shook his head as Miranda shook her head no.
“Alright then you two lovebirds, get back to where you were and let’s all meet back here in thirty.”
Miranda and Danny returned down the sidewalk and around the corner towards the park behind the townhomes where they had first discovered the bloodsoaked sweatshirt.
“Well, Danny, I guess our relationship is sort of out there now.”
“Well, Miranda, it was only a matter of time before someone found out. I just wish that the circumstances would have been different. Nobody wants to spill the beans about who they’re sleeping with in that way.”
“Damn right Danny, I can’t fucking believe that Perkins had the balls to even think that I had something to do with yesterday’s case.”
“Well Miranda, he had evidence that he had to at least feel out.”
Miranda stopped walking and turned to Danny, “Jesus Christ, whose side are you on Danny?”
“Miranda, you know it’s just part of the job. I know you’re innocent and now Perkins knows that you’re innocent. I just think the bigger question here is how in the hell those prints got on the inside of Emily Jenkins’ car in the first place.”
“Yeah, Danny, I guess you’re right. Is it weird for me to be a bit freaked out by the fact that my prints somehow ended up in the victim’s car? And then today we end up working this case?”
“It is all a bit too convenient Miranda. I don’t want to worry you but I know I’d feel a bit better if you stayed at my house until we get someone in custody for these murders.”
“Shit, Danny, you really do think that this murderer knows me, don’t you?”
“We have to face the facts, Miranda. This is all a bit of a big coincidence -- your fingerprints showing up inside of a murder victim’s car, your best friend being murdered and finding that sweatshirt -- to be just a random bunch of related events that has nothing to do with you. When we’re done here we should go take a look at your apartment just to make sure everything is--”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
A murder story - part twenty
Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the ninth part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. I was writing this as part of NaNoWriMo -- sadly I didn't crack the 50,000 word mark but the writing continues...
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
Danny Kline walked on the trail around the side of the smallish pond before descending down the bank towards the water while Miranda Grove worked her way alongside the fence and trail which lined the small backyards of each of the block of townhomes.
Inside Ms. Pinkowski’s townhome, Officers Meyer and Cornwell examined the walls, floors and seemingly every inch of every surface with flashlights as they looked for any evidence that may have been left behind.
“Hey Marcus,” Sherry yelled out, “I’ve got something here.”
“Yeah Sherry,” Marcus replied, “what is it?”
“It’s a crumpled up note. No name,” Sherry stated, “but it does have a phone number.”
“Hey Sherry,” Marcus yelled out from the victim’s bedroom, “has anyone found her cell phone yet?”
Sherry glanced around at the other two officers who were working the scene, asking them without saying a word.
“Nope Marcus,” Sherry yelled back, “no phone yet but let’s double back on each other’s work and see if either of us finds anything the other missed.”
Officers Marcus Meyer and Sherry Cornwell continued to go through the townhome of Becky Pinkowski with proverbial fine-toothed combs.
Outside of the home, Officer Miranda Grove explored every inch of the rear of the property with painstaking detail.
“Fuck,” Grove muttered to herself, “a shoe print. This could be...” Miranda trailed off again, entirely wrapped up in her detailed investigative work.
“Holy shit,” Danny Kline yelled out from across the smallish pond to nobody in particular.
Miranda sprang up and yelled out, “Did you find something, Danny?”
Miranda picked up her toolbox and sprinted around the trail to the opposite side of the pond where her partner Lead Investigator Danny Kline was standing along the shoreline.
“What, what...?” Miranda asked as she paused to catch her breath from the quick dash.
“Well,” Danny began, “only this Miranda.” Danny held up, on the end of a stick, a blood-soaked navy blue sweatshirt. As he turned it around, Miranda gasped.
“Fucking shit, Danny,” Miranda exclaimed, “that’s...” Miranda covered her mouth in shock.
Danny displayed the blood-soaked sweatshirt with one hand as he unfurled a plastic evidence bag with his other hand.
As Miranda stared at the back of the sweatshirt, she began talking. “Southwest State Law Academy -- fuck me. That’s...”
“That’s where you went to college, isn’t it?” Danny paused as he placed the sweatshirt in a bag.
“Hey,” Miranda said as she reached out for the bag, “the only way to get one of those sweatshirts is to enroll in the academy and each year they make new ones embroidered with the year that each student would graduate in. What’s the ye-”
Officer Grove stopped speaking mid-sentence.
At the same instance as Miranda noticed the embroidered graduation year, Danny did as well.
“2010” The pair said flatly almost in unison.
“Holy shit.” Miranda exclaimed. “If this is the killer’s sweatshirt, this fucker graduated with me or was at least in school with me. Jesus Christ, Danny, this fucker could know me. He could know who I am. He could know where I fucking live, Danny.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Miranda,” Danny held out his hand as he spoke, “we can’t be sure that this isn’t a sweatshirt that someone picked up at a thrift shop. And jumping to conclusions about the killer possibly knowing you isn’t going to do us any good.”
Danny returned to looking over the area but his mind picked up where Miranda had left off. What if this was someone that she had graduated with who had killed these two people? It was too convenient to find this bloody sweatshirt bearing the name of her alma mater to be a mere coincidence. Was Miranda even safe working on these cases now that this one piece of evidence had shown up? Maybe it just an overreaction, though. Why would anyone, particularly a killer, be seeking out Miranda?
Miranda, now more focused than ever, worked alongside Danny as the pair combed the area for evidence. If the killer had ditched his or her sweatshirt here in these bushes, maybe something was inadvertently left behind that would get them closer to an identity.
Danny, though, stood idly by for a moment. Miranda’s string of “what-ifs” had his mind reeling. He had to ask questions no matter how ridiculous they seemed.
Danny Kline walked on the trail around the side of the smallish pond before descending down the bank towards the water while Miranda Grove worked her way alongside the fence and trail which lined the small backyards of each of the block of townhomes.
Inside Ms. Pinkowski’s townhome, Officers Meyer and Cornwell examined the walls, floors and seemingly every inch of every surface with flashlights as they looked for any evidence that may have been left behind.
“Hey Marcus,” Sherry yelled out, “I’ve got something here.”
“Yeah Sherry,” Marcus replied, “what is it?”
“It’s a crumpled up note. No name,” Sherry stated, “but it does have a phone number.”
“Hey Sherry,” Marcus yelled out from the victim’s bedroom, “has anyone found her cell phone yet?”
Sherry glanced around at the other two officers who were working the scene, asking them without saying a word.
“Nope Marcus,” Sherry yelled back, “no phone yet but let’s double back on each other’s work and see if either of us finds anything the other missed.”
Officers Marcus Meyer and Sherry Cornwell continued to go through the townhome of Becky Pinkowski with proverbial fine-toothed combs.
Outside of the home, Officer Miranda Grove explored every inch of the rear of the property with painstaking detail.
“Fuck,” Grove muttered to herself, “a shoe print. This could be...” Miranda trailed off again, entirely wrapped up in her detailed investigative work.
“Holy shit,” Danny Kline yelled out from across the smallish pond to nobody in particular.
Miranda sprang up and yelled out, “Did you find something, Danny?”
Miranda picked up her toolbox and sprinted around the trail to the opposite side of the pond where her partner Lead Investigator Danny Kline was standing along the shoreline.
“What, what...?” Miranda asked as she paused to catch her breath from the quick dash.
“Well,” Danny began, “only this Miranda.” Danny held up, on the end of a stick, a blood-soaked navy blue sweatshirt. As he turned it around, Miranda gasped.
“Fucking shit, Danny,” Miranda exclaimed, “that’s...” Miranda covered her mouth in shock.
Danny displayed the blood-soaked sweatshirt with one hand as he unfurled a plastic evidence bag with his other hand.
As Miranda stared at the back of the sweatshirt, she began talking. “Southwest State Law Academy -- fuck me. That’s...”
“That’s where you went to college, isn’t it?” Danny paused as he placed the sweatshirt in a bag.
“Hey,” Miranda said as she reached out for the bag, “the only way to get one of those sweatshirts is to enroll in the academy and each year they make new ones embroidered with the year that each student would graduate in. What’s the ye-”
Officer Grove stopped speaking mid-sentence.
At the same instance as Miranda noticed the embroidered graduation year, Danny did as well.
“2010” The pair said flatly almost in unison.
“Holy shit.” Miranda exclaimed. “If this is the killer’s sweatshirt, this fucker graduated with me or was at least in school with me. Jesus Christ, Danny, this fucker could know me. He could know who I am. He could know where I fucking live, Danny.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Miranda,” Danny held out his hand as he spoke, “we can’t be sure that this isn’t a sweatshirt that someone picked up at a thrift shop. And jumping to conclusions about the killer possibly knowing you isn’t going to do us any good.”
Danny returned to looking over the area but his mind picked up where Miranda had left off. What if this was someone that she had graduated with who had killed these two people? It was too convenient to find this bloody sweatshirt bearing the name of her alma mater to be a mere coincidence. Was Miranda even safe working on these cases now that this one piece of evidence had shown up? Maybe it just an overreaction, though. Why would anyone, particularly a killer, be seeking out Miranda?
Miranda, now more focused than ever, worked alongside Danny as the pair combed the area for evidence. If the killer had ditched his or her sweatshirt here in these bushes, maybe something was inadvertently left behind that would get them closer to an identity.
Danny, though, stood idly by for a moment. Miranda’s string of “what-ifs” had his mind reeling. He had to ask questions no matter how ridiculous they seemed.
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
A murder story - part nineteen
Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the eighth part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. I was writing this as part of NaNoWriMo -- sadly I didn't crack the 50,000 word mark but the writing continues...
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
“Ms. Pinkowski?” Miranda asked, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah,” Taylor said as he rubbed his eyes, “I had never seen anything like that before. If she was still alive she didn’t look like it. That was definitely a shitty way to go.”
Kline leaned forward as Miranda shifted in her chair, obviously still squeamish about hearing the details of her friend’s murder. “So,” Kline said as he inhaled the crisp morning air, “no noise. That’s when you ran back to your house?”
“Yeah. I got out of there fast. I mean I had just heard this all go down from my bed. I ran back, grabbed my phone from my bedroom and called 911.”
“Did you stay inside after you called?” Miranda asked inquisitively.
“No way, I was too nervous at that point. I paced around my living room a couple times but I headed outside and walked back and forth out here,” Taylor said as he pointed in a waving motion to the porch the trio was sitting on, “It seemed like just a few minutes before a cop showed up.”
“Officer Cornwell.” Kline stated.
“Yeah, she asked which unit I had heard the noise in and she sort of took it from there. I stood here and listened. I heard her on her radio and in a couple minutes the whole street was full of cops.”
“So,” Miranda began, “after you called 911 did you see or hear anyone or anything in the neighborhood that you’d consider suspicious.”
“Nope. It was as quiet as it always is and I stay up kinda late most nights so hearing anything around here past midnight is strange but, no, I didn’t hear or see anything suspicious.”
“Shit.” Miranda said bluntly. “Do these places have back doors too?”
“Yeah.” The next door neighbor replied just as bluntly.
“Thanks Mr. Briggs.” Miranda said as she stood up and pushed her chair in.
Kline extended his hand, shaking the hand of Taylor Briggs, “We’ll let you know if we have any more questions.”
“No problem.”
Lead Investigator Kline and Officer Grove walked down the townhome’s steps and towards Officers Cornwell and Meyer who were waiting under a Maple tree whose leaves fluttered in the light morning breeze.
“His story,” Kline said to Officer Meyer, “Is solid.”
“So,” Kline asked, “what all did you see when you got here Sherry?”
Tucking her hair behind her ears, the short brunette in her early 40s began, “Well, I pulled up here, lights on, no sirens, and asked the guy, Mr. Briggs, waiting outside which unit was the one in question. He pointed to Ms. Pinkowski’s home and I drew my weapon before I knocked on the door. I slowly pushed it open. Every light in the place seemed to be turned on so it was pretty easy to see what had transpired.”
“And what time was that?” Kline asked as he jotted notes.
“2:37 AM, sir.” Sherry stopped before recounting the rest of the details. “Once I saw the victim and the amount of blood I radioed for backup. I stepped outside and looked for a secondary path the perpetrator could have taken. I didn’t want someone that violent to be able to double back and surprise me before backup arrived. The only way back to the front door after going out the back door is a half a block in either direction. I checked things over and there’s kind of a trail behind here that runs alongside a park and a little pond. A few shrubs, some trees, a playground. Typical little neighborhood setup.”
“Alright,” Kline said before asking Officer Cornwell another question, “Any discernable footprints or anything that looked out of the ordinary back there?”
“No sir.” Cornwell answered politely. “It’s all concrete or pavement back there. All trails and sidewalks for the most direct routes. If the perpetrator knew his or her way around the area, even after just a cursory glance, they’d be gone in a couple of minutes. By the time I was checking back there it had been, um, about 14 minutes since the call came in.”
Officer Cornwell looked at her wristwatch a second time to make sure her details were correct.
“Sorry, sir, it was 15 minutes after the call that I was checking behind the townhome.”
“Okay,” Kline said as he dug in his heels, preparing to walk, “well Miranda, why don’t you and I check out that area behind here and Meyer and Cornwell I want you two to check around inside but check in with that asshole Jenkins first so that fat fuck thinks it’s his idea.”
Both Officers Meyer and Cornwell chuckled at Lead Investigator Kline’s comment about their boss and walked away in opposite directions.
With the sun now making its way higher up in the sky, Kline and Grove walked down the half block long sidewalk and around the corner, making their way quickly to the park-like area behind this block of townhomes.
“I’ll take this side,” Miranda said pointing to the area directly behind Ms. Pinkowski’s home, “if you want to check things out on the other side.”
“Works for me.”
“Yeah,” Taylor said as he rubbed his eyes, “I had never seen anything like that before. If she was still alive she didn’t look like it. That was definitely a shitty way to go.”
Kline leaned forward as Miranda shifted in her chair, obviously still squeamish about hearing the details of her friend’s murder. “So,” Kline said as he inhaled the crisp morning air, “no noise. That’s when you ran back to your house?”
“Yeah. I got out of there fast. I mean I had just heard this all go down from my bed. I ran back, grabbed my phone from my bedroom and called 911.”
“Did you stay inside after you called?” Miranda asked inquisitively.
“No way, I was too nervous at that point. I paced around my living room a couple times but I headed outside and walked back and forth out here,” Taylor said as he pointed in a waving motion to the porch the trio was sitting on, “It seemed like just a few minutes before a cop showed up.”
“Officer Cornwell.” Kline stated.
“Yeah, she asked which unit I had heard the noise in and she sort of took it from there. I stood here and listened. I heard her on her radio and in a couple minutes the whole street was full of cops.”
“So,” Miranda began, “after you called 911 did you see or hear anyone or anything in the neighborhood that you’d consider suspicious.”
“Nope. It was as quiet as it always is and I stay up kinda late most nights so hearing anything around here past midnight is strange but, no, I didn’t hear or see anything suspicious.”
“Shit.” Miranda said bluntly. “Do these places have back doors too?”
“Yeah.” The next door neighbor replied just as bluntly.
“Thanks Mr. Briggs.” Miranda said as she stood up and pushed her chair in.
Kline extended his hand, shaking the hand of Taylor Briggs, “We’ll let you know if we have any more questions.”
“No problem.”
Lead Investigator Kline and Officer Grove walked down the townhome’s steps and towards Officers Cornwell and Meyer who were waiting under a Maple tree whose leaves fluttered in the light morning breeze.
“His story,” Kline said to Officer Meyer, “Is solid.”
“So,” Kline asked, “what all did you see when you got here Sherry?”
Tucking her hair behind her ears, the short brunette in her early 40s began, “Well, I pulled up here, lights on, no sirens, and asked the guy, Mr. Briggs, waiting outside which unit was the one in question. He pointed to Ms. Pinkowski’s home and I drew my weapon before I knocked on the door. I slowly pushed it open. Every light in the place seemed to be turned on so it was pretty easy to see what had transpired.”
“And what time was that?” Kline asked as he jotted notes.
“2:37 AM, sir.” Sherry stopped before recounting the rest of the details. “Once I saw the victim and the amount of blood I radioed for backup. I stepped outside and looked for a secondary path the perpetrator could have taken. I didn’t want someone that violent to be able to double back and surprise me before backup arrived. The only way back to the front door after going out the back door is a half a block in either direction. I checked things over and there’s kind of a trail behind here that runs alongside a park and a little pond. A few shrubs, some trees, a playground. Typical little neighborhood setup.”
“Alright,” Kline said before asking Officer Cornwell another question, “Any discernable footprints or anything that looked out of the ordinary back there?”
“No sir.” Cornwell answered politely. “It’s all concrete or pavement back there. All trails and sidewalks for the most direct routes. If the perpetrator knew his or her way around the area, even after just a cursory glance, they’d be gone in a couple of minutes. By the time I was checking back there it had been, um, about 14 minutes since the call came in.”
Officer Cornwell looked at her wristwatch a second time to make sure her details were correct.
“Sorry, sir, it was 15 minutes after the call that I was checking behind the townhome.”
“Okay,” Kline said as he dug in his heels, preparing to walk, “well Miranda, why don’t you and I check out that area behind here and Meyer and Cornwell I want you two to check around inside but check in with that asshole Jenkins first so that fat fuck thinks it’s his idea.”
Both Officers Meyer and Cornwell chuckled at Lead Investigator Kline’s comment about their boss and walked away in opposite directions.
With the sun now making its way higher up in the sky, Kline and Grove walked down the half block long sidewalk and around the corner, making their way quickly to the park-like area behind this block of townhomes.
“I’ll take this side,” Miranda said pointing to the area directly behind Ms. Pinkowski’s home, “if you want to check things out on the other side.”
“Works for me.”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!
Thursday, December 06, 2012
A murder story - part eighteen
Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the seventh part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. I was writing this as part of NaNoWriMo -- sadly I didn't crack the 50,000 word mark but the writing continues...
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
Miranda Grove slowly opened the driver’s side door of the unmarked police-issue Dodge Durango and, wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks, slowly walked towards her waiting partner. As she approached him, her facial expression turned from one of sadness, shock and grief to one of seriousness with a noticeable tinge of anger and vengeance. Kline, seeing this dangerous mix of emotions, looked at Miranda as she got closer to her already walking partner and said “Hey, I know you’ve got a rather personal stake in this case and I can see that you’re angry but we’re professionals Miranda,” Kline put his hand on her shoulder as he stopped walking and turned to face her, “remember that this is routine shit. We’ve trained for years to deal with scenes like this. We’re in this job to help people and solve crimes. We’re not here to exact revenge or settle a personal grudge.”
Miranda looked down at the ground as she shuffled her feet a bit. “Yeah, I know why we’re here. Today it’s to figure out who this piece of shit is who killed my fucking best friend.” Miranda began to choke back tears again, her small fists balled up tightly.
“Listen,” Danny interjected, “people pay attention when you are the one asking them questions Miranda. Ms. Pinkowski’s next door neighbor, Taylor Briggs, was home when this took place. He’s the one who called it in. We need to stay sharp and see what else this Briggs guy saw or heard. We’re gonna get who ever it is who did this Miranda. We’ll get him.”
“Damn right I’ll get him.” Miranda said quietly as nodded and slowly raised her head to meet Kline’s eyes. The look of grief was now gone, replaced by an eerily serious look complete with a furrowed brow and an otherwise emotionless face. “Let’s see what we get by talking to the neighbor.” Miranda exhaled a slight puff and walked with Kline to the door.
Lead Investigator Danny Kline knocked on the storm door, ignoring the doorbell.
The door opened as a bleary-eyed man in his mid- to late-twenties stepped outside.
“Hi,” Officer Grove began, “you must be Taylor Briggs.”
“Yep.” Taylor said as he yawned and rubbed his eyes.
“Excellent,” Miranda stepped aside, “myself and Investigator Kline would like to go over things one last time.”
“Sure.”
“Mind if we sit over there?” Miranda asked as she pointed to a small bistro-type table and chairs on the townhome’s front porch. “This should only take a few minutes.”
“That’s cool.”
“So,” Miranda began as she opened up her note pad, “would you mind walking us through things one more time?”
“Yeah, no problem.” Taylor began as he again rubbed his eyes and yawned. “It was about 2:20 AM when I heard a scream from next door. I mean, I assumed it was next door, it sounded pretty close but still muffled a bit. It was loud enough to wake me up. I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or not but then I heard a loud thud. It seriously sounded like someone had thrown something heavy against the wall.”
“And how did you hear it so clearly?”
“My bedroom,” Taylor began as he yawned another time, “is right against that wall dividing the units. I sat up in bed, wondering what I had just heard, and that’s when I heard another even louder scream -- it sort of sounded like ‘no’ or ‘help’ -- I’m pretty sure there was at least a word in it.”
“Okay. Did you hear anything else? Any other voices or sounds?”
“I didn’t.” Taylor stated matter-of-factly as he sat back in his chair. “Yelling, a thud and more yelling. Then it stopped. I thought it might have been the end of an argument that just happened to wake me up but I had never heard any sort of argument from next door. I sort of sorted things out in my head for a minute, threw on my glasses and came out to go next door and see if everything seemed alright.”
“You hadn’t called 911 yet?” Miranda continued hastily writing notes.
“No, not yet. I came outside, went up the steps next door and knocked on the storm door. That’s when I noticed that the inside door was partially open. I knocked a few more times then pushed it open a bit more and yelled inside asking if everything was alright.”
Miranda leaned forward, “Did you hear anything when you opened the door?”
“Nothing.” Taylor shook his head. “It was totally silent. That’s when I saw blood as I looked down. Then I looked towards the kitchen and that when I saw her.”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
Miranda Grove slowly opened the driver’s side door of the unmarked police-issue Dodge Durango and, wiping the remaining tears from her cheeks, slowly walked towards her waiting partner. As she approached him, her facial expression turned from one of sadness, shock and grief to one of seriousness with a noticeable tinge of anger and vengeance. Kline, seeing this dangerous mix of emotions, looked at Miranda as she got closer to her already walking partner and said “Hey, I know you’ve got a rather personal stake in this case and I can see that you’re angry but we’re professionals Miranda,” Kline put his hand on her shoulder as he stopped walking and turned to face her, “remember that this is routine shit. We’ve trained for years to deal with scenes like this. We’re in this job to help people and solve crimes. We’re not here to exact revenge or settle a personal grudge.”
Miranda looked down at the ground as she shuffled her feet a bit. “Yeah, I know why we’re here. Today it’s to figure out who this piece of shit is who killed my fucking best friend.” Miranda began to choke back tears again, her small fists balled up tightly.
“Listen,” Danny interjected, “people pay attention when you are the one asking them questions Miranda. Ms. Pinkowski’s next door neighbor, Taylor Briggs, was home when this took place. He’s the one who called it in. We need to stay sharp and see what else this Briggs guy saw or heard. We’re gonna get who ever it is who did this Miranda. We’ll get him.”
“Damn right I’ll get him.” Miranda said quietly as nodded and slowly raised her head to meet Kline’s eyes. The look of grief was now gone, replaced by an eerily serious look complete with a furrowed brow and an otherwise emotionless face. “Let’s see what we get by talking to the neighbor.” Miranda exhaled a slight puff and walked with Kline to the door.
Lead Investigator Danny Kline knocked on the storm door, ignoring the doorbell.
The door opened as a bleary-eyed man in his mid- to late-twenties stepped outside.
“Hi,” Officer Grove began, “you must be Taylor Briggs.”
“Yep.” Taylor said as he yawned and rubbed his eyes.
“Excellent,” Miranda stepped aside, “myself and Investigator Kline would like to go over things one last time.”
“Sure.”
“Mind if we sit over there?” Miranda asked as she pointed to a small bistro-type table and chairs on the townhome’s front porch. “This should only take a few minutes.”
“That’s cool.”
“So,” Miranda began as she opened up her note pad, “would you mind walking us through things one more time?”
“Yeah, no problem.” Taylor began as he again rubbed his eyes and yawned. “It was about 2:20 AM when I heard a scream from next door. I mean, I assumed it was next door, it sounded pretty close but still muffled a bit. It was loud enough to wake me up. I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or not but then I heard a loud thud. It seriously sounded like someone had thrown something heavy against the wall.”
“And how did you hear it so clearly?”
“My bedroom,” Taylor began as he yawned another time, “is right against that wall dividing the units. I sat up in bed, wondering what I had just heard, and that’s when I heard another even louder scream -- it sort of sounded like ‘no’ or ‘help’ -- I’m pretty sure there was at least a word in it.”
“Okay. Did you hear anything else? Any other voices or sounds?”
“I didn’t.” Taylor stated matter-of-factly as he sat back in his chair. “Yelling, a thud and more yelling. Then it stopped. I thought it might have been the end of an argument that just happened to wake me up but I had never heard any sort of argument from next door. I sort of sorted things out in my head for a minute, threw on my glasses and came out to go next door and see if everything seemed alright.”
“You hadn’t called 911 yet?” Miranda continued hastily writing notes.
“No, not yet. I came outside, went up the steps next door and knocked on the storm door. That’s when I noticed that the inside door was partially open. I knocked a few more times then pushed it open a bit more and yelled inside asking if everything was alright.”
Miranda leaned forward, “Did you hear anything when you opened the door?”
“Nothing.” Taylor shook his head. “It was totally silent. That’s when I saw blood as I looked down. Then I looked towards the kitchen and that when I saw her.”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this (hopefully) intriguing murder mystery!
Monday, December 03, 2012
A murder story - part seventeen
Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the sixth part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. I was writing this as part of NaNoWriMo -- sadly I didn't crack the 50,000 word mark but the writing continues...
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
“Alright, alright.” Miranda sighed. “I know what I need to do but this one is tough, I loved her like a sister and the piece of shit that did this is gonna fucking pay.” Miranda’s tone went from one of sorrow to vengeance in one short sentence.
Danny had never seen this side of Miranda. He knew that she was still upset but a vengeful cop with a loaded weapon is a bad mix. Danny’s mind raced with the possibilities of what a revenge-seeking Miranda Grove might be capable of. He quickly shook his head from side to side, trying to unimagine what he had just envisioned, and got back to reality and the tasks at hand -- collecting evidence, questioning those who might know something about Becky Pinkowski and solving this murder.
“Dammit Miranda, go have some coffee or something because we can’t very well have a pissed off cop interviewing neighbors. Get your shit together or, like I said earlier, Perkins is gonna catch on and have you behind a desk faster than you can blink.”
“Fine,” Miranda huffed, “I’ll be back in five minutes. I just need... I just need to cool off for a bit.”
“Okay,” Danny replied as he began to walk toward the townhome’s front door, “Come find me when you’re ready.”
Before Danny entered the home, he turned to see what Miranda was doing and where she was headed. Realizing that she must have walked away in quite a huff, he saw her sitting in the driver’s seat of the Durango. He could see that she was sobbing heavily as she repeatedly punched the vehicle’s leather-wrapped steering wheel. This was definitely out of character for the normally calm and almost methodical officer but he wrote it off as her being rightfully emotional after seeing one of her closest friends dead.
Danny again turned and entered the home’s front door.
Approaching Officer Marcus Meyer who had been next door interviewing Ms. Pinkowski’s neighbors, Danny began speaking in a rather gruff tone “Meyer,” he motioned for him to come closer, “what have you heard from the neighbors?”
“Well,” Officer Meyer began, “I spoke to Taylor Briggs who lives to the left of Ms. Pinkowski’s home and he said that he was awakened by what he described as a blood-curdling scream followed by a loud thud against the shared wall between the townhome units around 2:20 AM.” Marcus Meyer paused as he flipped the page of his note pad. “He said that he wasn’t sure if he had dreamt it or if it was real then he heard another scream and was pretty sure it had come from next door. That’s when he stepped out of his front door to check next door and see if Ms. Pinkowski was alright. He noticed that the door was ajar, knocked a few times, yelled inside asking if she was home and if everything was alright, paused while he waited for any sort of response and then slowly pushed the door open and saw blood on the floor and then saw the victim pinned to the bathroom door. That’s when he ran back to his place and called 911. The time of that call was 2:29 AM.” Officer Meyer flipped his note pad closed and looked at Kline.
“Excellent work Marcus.” Danny said before turning to glance back towards the street where Miranda was still sitting in the Durango. “What’s the word from the neighbor on the other side of Ms. Pinkowski’s townhome?”
“Well,” Marcus began, “we haven’t had any luck getting an answer there yet but we’ll keep trying.”
“So,” Kline said as he exhaled heavily, “we’ve got a fairly decent timeframe of the murder and there was definitely a struggle but did the neighbor see anyone in the neighborhood that seemed out of place?”
Officer Meyer began shaking his head from side to side, “No, Mr. Briggs noticed nothing or nobody that seemed out of place.”
“Hell,” Lead Investigator Kline said as he dug his heel into the grass as the sun began to rise, “it’s probably a good fucking thing that the neighbor didn’t go inside to check things out. For all we know the killer could have been hiding behind the kitchen counter waiting to pop out and slash anyone’s throat who he saw. Did the neighbor, um, Briggs, stay inside his townhome after calling 911, did he wait outside? Where was this guy at from 2:29 AM until the first officer arrived here at...” Kline trailed off.
“At 2:37 AM.” Marcus Meyer finished the sentence which Kline had begun. “Cornwell was on duty in this part of town. She was the first on the scene.”
Lead Investigator Danny Kline began to walk away and turned towards Officer Meyer, “Marcus, let’s meet up in five minutes. Track down Cornwell and let’s make sure we’re all on the same page here.”
“You got it, sir.”
Kline motioned toward the street for his partner Miranda Grove to join him.
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
“Alright, alright.” Miranda sighed. “I know what I need to do but this one is tough, I loved her like a sister and the piece of shit that did this is gonna fucking pay.” Miranda’s tone went from one of sorrow to vengeance in one short sentence.
Danny had never seen this side of Miranda. He knew that she was still upset but a vengeful cop with a loaded weapon is a bad mix. Danny’s mind raced with the possibilities of what a revenge-seeking Miranda Grove might be capable of. He quickly shook his head from side to side, trying to unimagine what he had just envisioned, and got back to reality and the tasks at hand -- collecting evidence, questioning those who might know something about Becky Pinkowski and solving this murder.
“Dammit Miranda, go have some coffee or something because we can’t very well have a pissed off cop interviewing neighbors. Get your shit together or, like I said earlier, Perkins is gonna catch on and have you behind a desk faster than you can blink.”
“Fine,” Miranda huffed, “I’ll be back in five minutes. I just need... I just need to cool off for a bit.”
“Okay,” Danny replied as he began to walk toward the townhome’s front door, “Come find me when you’re ready.”
Before Danny entered the home, he turned to see what Miranda was doing and where she was headed. Realizing that she must have walked away in quite a huff, he saw her sitting in the driver’s seat of the Durango. He could see that she was sobbing heavily as she repeatedly punched the vehicle’s leather-wrapped steering wheel. This was definitely out of character for the normally calm and almost methodical officer but he wrote it off as her being rightfully emotional after seeing one of her closest friends dead.
Danny again turned and entered the home’s front door.
Approaching Officer Marcus Meyer who had been next door interviewing Ms. Pinkowski’s neighbors, Danny began speaking in a rather gruff tone “Meyer,” he motioned for him to come closer, “what have you heard from the neighbors?”
“Well,” Officer Meyer began, “I spoke to Taylor Briggs who lives to the left of Ms. Pinkowski’s home and he said that he was awakened by what he described as a blood-curdling scream followed by a loud thud against the shared wall between the townhome units around 2:20 AM.” Marcus Meyer paused as he flipped the page of his note pad. “He said that he wasn’t sure if he had dreamt it or if it was real then he heard another scream and was pretty sure it had come from next door. That’s when he stepped out of his front door to check next door and see if Ms. Pinkowski was alright. He noticed that the door was ajar, knocked a few times, yelled inside asking if she was home and if everything was alright, paused while he waited for any sort of response and then slowly pushed the door open and saw blood on the floor and then saw the victim pinned to the bathroom door. That’s when he ran back to his place and called 911. The time of that call was 2:29 AM.” Officer Meyer flipped his note pad closed and looked at Kline.
“Excellent work Marcus.” Danny said before turning to glance back towards the street where Miranda was still sitting in the Durango. “What’s the word from the neighbor on the other side of Ms. Pinkowski’s townhome?”
“Well,” Marcus began, “we haven’t had any luck getting an answer there yet but we’ll keep trying.”
“So,” Kline said as he exhaled heavily, “we’ve got a fairly decent timeframe of the murder and there was definitely a struggle but did the neighbor see anyone in the neighborhood that seemed out of place?”
Officer Meyer began shaking his head from side to side, “No, Mr. Briggs noticed nothing or nobody that seemed out of place.”
“Hell,” Lead Investigator Kline said as he dug his heel into the grass as the sun began to rise, “it’s probably a good fucking thing that the neighbor didn’t go inside to check things out. For all we know the killer could have been hiding behind the kitchen counter waiting to pop out and slash anyone’s throat who he saw. Did the neighbor, um, Briggs, stay inside his townhome after calling 911, did he wait outside? Where was this guy at from 2:29 AM until the first officer arrived here at...” Kline trailed off.
“At 2:37 AM.” Marcus Meyer finished the sentence which Kline had begun. “Cornwell was on duty in this part of town. She was the first on the scene.”
Lead Investigator Danny Kline began to walk away and turned towards Officer Meyer, “Marcus, let’s meet up in five minutes. Track down Cornwell and let’s make sure we’re all on the same page here.”
“You got it, sir.”
Kline motioned toward the street for his partner Miranda Grove to join him.
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!
Thursday, November 08, 2012
A murder story - part sixteen
Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the fifth part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. I am currently writing this as part of NaNoWriMo -- let's see if I crack the 50,000 work mark.
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
“What’s the skinny here?” Perkins exhaled deeply as smoke poured from both his nostrils and his mouth, his shirt revealing years of a donut-eating habit and sedentary lifestyle.
“Well,” Danny began, “It’s definitely a homicide. We’ve got a trail of the victim’s blood leading from the kitchen to the bathroom and a pretty significant pool of blood around the victim.”
“Huh,” Perkins inhaled, taking a deep drag from his cheap cigarette, “do we know the victim’s name?”
“Becky,” Miranda said with a brief pause, “Becky Pinkowski. She’s 24 years old, single, lived here in town most of her life.”
“Ah,” Perkins said, pausing to spit on the sidewalk, “good work Grove. Do we know when this shit went down?”
“The next door neighbor called 911 just after 2:30 AM.” Danny interjected as he scratched at his thumbnail.
“We’ve got someone talking to the neighbor?”
“Yeah, I saw Officer Meyer talking with someone, pretty sure it’s the neighbor.” Danny responded to Perkins as he gazed at Miranda who was sniffling a bit, obvious to anyone with eyes that she had been crying moments earlier.
“Alright then,” Perkins began as he cleared his throat and spit a nasty yellow loogie on the sidewalk, “You two can get things better organized inside and start collecting evidence and I’ll check with some of the other neighbors and get a feel for how this Pinkowski chick lived.”
“Chi-” Miranda began angrily but was interrupted by Danny.
“Yeah,” Danny said as he grabbed his partner by the sleeve of her jacket before she said something that would tip off Perkins about her friendship with the victim, “we’re on it, Perkins.”
Safely out of earshot of Perkins, Danny began talking to Miranda in a hushed tone.
“Dammit, Miranda, you can’t do anything that’s going to show Perkins that you previously knew the victim. He’ll have you at a desk so fast that your head will spin. As tough as it is you have to keep your emotions in check and keep it together.”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
“What’s the skinny here?” Perkins exhaled deeply as smoke poured from both his nostrils and his mouth, his shirt revealing years of a donut-eating habit and sedentary lifestyle.
“Well,” Danny began, “It’s definitely a homicide. We’ve got a trail of the victim’s blood leading from the kitchen to the bathroom and a pretty significant pool of blood around the victim.”
“Huh,” Perkins inhaled, taking a deep drag from his cheap cigarette, “do we know the victim’s name?”
“Becky,” Miranda said with a brief pause, “Becky Pinkowski. She’s 24 years old, single, lived here in town most of her life.”
“Ah,” Perkins said, pausing to spit on the sidewalk, “good work Grove. Do we know when this shit went down?”
“The next door neighbor called 911 just after 2:30 AM.” Danny interjected as he scratched at his thumbnail.
“We’ve got someone talking to the neighbor?”
“Yeah, I saw Officer Meyer talking with someone, pretty sure it’s the neighbor.” Danny responded to Perkins as he gazed at Miranda who was sniffling a bit, obvious to anyone with eyes that she had been crying moments earlier.
“Alright then,” Perkins began as he cleared his throat and spit a nasty yellow loogie on the sidewalk, “You two can get things better organized inside and start collecting evidence and I’ll check with some of the other neighbors and get a feel for how this Pinkowski chick lived.”
“Chi-” Miranda began angrily but was interrupted by Danny.
“Yeah,” Danny said as he grabbed his partner by the sleeve of her jacket before she said something that would tip off Perkins about her friendship with the victim, “we’re on it, Perkins.”
Safely out of earshot of Perkins, Danny began talking to Miranda in a hushed tone.
“Dammit, Miranda, you can’t do anything that’s going to show Perkins that you previously knew the victim. He’ll have you at a desk so fast that your head will spin. As tough as it is you have to keep your emotions in check and keep it together.”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
A murder story - part fifteen
Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the fourth part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. Sorry about another cliffhanger...
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
“I went to high school with her, Danny. We were practically best friends. We had been best friends since we were like fucking eight years old, Danny. Fuck.” Miranda finished her sentence flatly, staring down at her shoes in disbelief.
Miranda moved off the concrete steps in front of the townhome and sat down in the dry grass as the sun slowly crept above the horizon. Danny, in an effort to console his partner and lover, sat down in the grass next to her as other officers milled around both inside and outside the non-descript townhome.
Miranda sat with her knees to her chest, her face resting between her knees.
“Shit, Danny, I went to lunch with her just last week. We had gone on vacations together. We partied together in high school. She was there for me when my parents got divorced and here I am sobbing like a little bitch when I should be doing my fucking job. I’m here to figure out what kind of sick fuck killed my friend. Hell, probably my best friend, Danny.”
“Well, Miranda, it’s entirely up to you if you want to work this case. If you want out of it, I think everyone will under-”
“If I want out of it,” Miranda shot back, almost glaring at Danny as her head sprung from between her knees, “why the HELL would I want out of it? Do you think I can’t handle this because we were, hell, are friends, Danny? I can do this. Shit, I have to do this for Becky. She deserves justice and that is the one thing I can give her. I couldn’t be here to stop this from happening but I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit behind a fucking desk while some sick piece of shit wanders the streets, living his life while Becky lies in the damn morgue.”
“Alright,” Danny said as he looked into his partner’s eyes, “I’m here for you for anything you need. Don’t let your emotions get the best of you, though. I’ve worked a case or two involving people I knew and it can twist your perception of things. Don’t let personal feelings take over and you’ll be as fine as you can be after having this happen to one of your closest friends.”
Danny stood up, offering a hand to Miranda. The two walked back to the Durango parked next to the curb and grabbed both their coffee cups and their crime scene kits and returned to the bustling crime scene where they were greeted by the Chief of the Homicide Division.
Puffing out his chest and hiking up his pants which were constantly being pushed down by his ever-expanding belly, Homicide Chief Donald Perkins flicked at his cigarette and glared at Officers Kline and Grove as they approached the front of the house.
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
“I went to high school with her, Danny. We were practically best friends. We had been best friends since we were like fucking eight years old, Danny. Fuck.” Miranda finished her sentence flatly, staring down at her shoes in disbelief.
Miranda moved off the concrete steps in front of the townhome and sat down in the dry grass as the sun slowly crept above the horizon. Danny, in an effort to console his partner and lover, sat down in the grass next to her as other officers milled around both inside and outside the non-descript townhome.
Miranda sat with her knees to her chest, her face resting between her knees.
“Shit, Danny, I went to lunch with her just last week. We had gone on vacations together. We partied together in high school. She was there for me when my parents got divorced and here I am sobbing like a little bitch when I should be doing my fucking job. I’m here to figure out what kind of sick fuck killed my friend. Hell, probably my best friend, Danny.”
“Well, Miranda, it’s entirely up to you if you want to work this case. If you want out of it, I think everyone will under-”
“If I want out of it,” Miranda shot back, almost glaring at Danny as her head sprung from between her knees, “why the HELL would I want out of it? Do you think I can’t handle this because we were, hell, are friends, Danny? I can do this. Shit, I have to do this for Becky. She deserves justice and that is the one thing I can give her. I couldn’t be here to stop this from happening but I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit behind a fucking desk while some sick piece of shit wanders the streets, living his life while Becky lies in the damn morgue.”
“Alright,” Danny said as he looked into his partner’s eyes, “I’m here for you for anything you need. Don’t let your emotions get the best of you, though. I’ve worked a case or two involving people I knew and it can twist your perception of things. Don’t let personal feelings take over and you’ll be as fine as you can be after having this happen to one of your closest friends.”
Danny stood up, offering a hand to Miranda. The two walked back to the Durango parked next to the curb and grabbed both their coffee cups and their crime scene kits and returned to the bustling crime scene where they were greeted by the Chief of the Homicide Division.
Puffing out his chest and hiking up his pants which were constantly being pushed down by his ever-expanding belly, Homicide Chief Donald Perkins flicked at his cigarette and glared at Officers Kline and Grove as they approached the front of the house.
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!
Monday, October 22, 2012
A murder story - part fourteen
Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now)
"A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me.
This is the third part of the second day of this winding and twisting
crime saga. Sorry about another cliffhanger...
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
“Come on” Danny muttered obliviously as he made his way up the concrete steps in front of the townhome, “Let’s see what kind of fucked-up shit went down on this side of suburbia.”
As Danny and Miranda entered the townhome they were both shocked by the sheer amount of blood they encountered. A trail of blood seemed to begin in the kitchen and trailed down the short hallway past the bedroom and ended at the bathroom door where the victim was pinned to the apparently solid core door. A pool of blood had formed on either side of the bathroom door, saturating the plush beige hallway carpet multiple feet away from the door.
“Holy fucking shit,” Miranda said, gasping as she spotted the blood-stained carpet from the end of the townhome’s hallway.
The young officer Grove covered her mouth and turned, gagging at what had to me multiple pints of blood drained from the young woman’s body on to the carpet.
“Are you al-” Danny asked as Miranda interrupted him.
“I, I, I,” Miranda stammered as she retreated from the townhome.
Danny quickly followed her to the townhome’s front steps where Miranda stood simultaneously sobbing and gagging. He put his left arm around her shoulders as he approached her from behind.
“What is it Miranda?”
“I,” Miranda began as she fought back tears while her body shuddered, trying her hardest to spit out a coherent sentence.
“Whatever it is Miranda, we’ve all had it happen. I’ve seen plenty of crime scenes that made my stomach turn.”
“It’s not that,” Miranda quickly shot back in a break from her tears, “I can take whatever it is that I come across in the course of a workday.”
Miranda turned and looked at the sun beginning to peek over the horizon. She zipped up her jacket a bit as Danny silently stood next to her, waiting for his partner and significant other to open up and share what was bothering her.
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
“Come on” Danny muttered obliviously as he made his way up the concrete steps in front of the townhome, “Let’s see what kind of fucked-up shit went down on this side of suburbia.”
As Danny and Miranda entered the townhome they were both shocked by the sheer amount of blood they encountered. A trail of blood seemed to begin in the kitchen and trailed down the short hallway past the bedroom and ended at the bathroom door where the victim was pinned to the apparently solid core door. A pool of blood had formed on either side of the bathroom door, saturating the plush beige hallway carpet multiple feet away from the door.
“Holy fucking shit,” Miranda said, gasping as she spotted the blood-stained carpet from the end of the townhome’s hallway.
The young officer Grove covered her mouth and turned, gagging at what had to me multiple pints of blood drained from the young woman’s body on to the carpet.
“Are you al-” Danny asked as Miranda interrupted him.
“I, I, I,” Miranda stammered as she retreated from the townhome.
Danny quickly followed her to the townhome’s front steps where Miranda stood simultaneously sobbing and gagging. He put his left arm around her shoulders as he approached her from behind.
“What is it Miranda?”
“I,” Miranda began as she fought back tears while her body shuddered, trying her hardest to spit out a coherent sentence.
“Whatever it is Miranda, we’ve all had it happen. I’ve seen plenty of crime scenes that made my stomach turn.”
“It’s not that,” Miranda quickly shot back in a break from her tears, “I can take whatever it is that I come across in the course of a workday.”
Miranda turned and looked at the sun beginning to peek over the horizon. She zipped up her jacket a bit as Danny silently stood next to her, waiting for his partner and significant other to open up and share what was bothering her.
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!
Thursday, October 11, 2012
A murder story - part thirteen
Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the second part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. Things are well on their way to getting very interesting...
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
“Maybe,” Danny said as he turned back around and threw the vehicle in to drive, “but I think a morning like this deserves some sort of grand opening. I mean it’s not every week we run across murders on back-to-back days. It sort of makes life as a cop in Kennebrook worth it after endless weeks of nothing but domestic disturbance calls and piss-ant little break-ins.”
“I get it,” Miranda said as she looked out the passenger side window into the passing rows of houses and street lights, “very few people actually deserve to die but this kind of shit does actually get my adrenaline going. This kind of shit is like something out of a TV show - I almost feel like you should pull your sunglasses off after uttering a brilliantly cheesy line about the grizzly murder you just uncovered and some of song by The Who should start playing.”
“Yeah. It’s just work but this kind of case reinvigorates me. It remind me of why I went in to law enforcement to begin with,” Danny’s voice perked up as he signaled a right turn and sped around the corner on to yet another deserted street, “My mind just runs all over the place imagining what could have happened. I know in the end that it all boils down to the evidence and being professional officers but it feels like we’re reading some sort of crime novel and eagerly anticipating the next twists and turns in the story.”
Danny looked down and grabbed his phone, checking the address of the crime scene again.
“Here,” Miranda reached over, grabbing the phone from Danny, “I can check the address and you can drive. After all you’re going about 70.”
“Fuck, who’s gonna pull me over. We are the mutherfucking police!”
Danny laughed heartily at his own joke as Miranda smiled out of politeness.
“Take a left here!”
Miranda held on to the Durango’s door handle as Danny sped around the hastily announced corner.
“It’s right up here about two,” Miranda paused and began to stumble as she quietly uttered the remainder of the sentence, “blocks.”
“Yep, I can see the lights. It looks like half the damn department is here.”
Danny pulled up to the house and hastily parked the black Durango on the wrong side of the street and jumped out as he threw the gear shift into park before the vehicle stopped rolling, leaving his door open and stoically lunging towards the crowd of officers scurrying around the crime scene.
“Fuck,” Miranda said as she slowly walked around the front of the Durango “this is - shit - I, I, I, uh...” Miranda trailed off.
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
“Maybe,” Danny said as he turned back around and threw the vehicle in to drive, “but I think a morning like this deserves some sort of grand opening. I mean it’s not every week we run across murders on back-to-back days. It sort of makes life as a cop in Kennebrook worth it after endless weeks of nothing but domestic disturbance calls and piss-ant little break-ins.”
“I get it,” Miranda said as she looked out the passenger side window into the passing rows of houses and street lights, “very few people actually deserve to die but this kind of shit does actually get my adrenaline going. This kind of shit is like something out of a TV show - I almost feel like you should pull your sunglasses off after uttering a brilliantly cheesy line about the grizzly murder you just uncovered and some of song by The Who should start playing.”
“Yeah. It’s just work but this kind of case reinvigorates me. It remind me of why I went in to law enforcement to begin with,” Danny’s voice perked up as he signaled a right turn and sped around the corner on to yet another deserted street, “My mind just runs all over the place imagining what could have happened. I know in the end that it all boils down to the evidence and being professional officers but it feels like we’re reading some sort of crime novel and eagerly anticipating the next twists and turns in the story.”
Danny looked down and grabbed his phone, checking the address of the crime scene again.
“Here,” Miranda reached over, grabbing the phone from Danny, “I can check the address and you can drive. After all you’re going about 70.”
“Fuck, who’s gonna pull me over. We are the mutherfucking police!”
Danny laughed heartily at his own joke as Miranda smiled out of politeness.
“Take a left here!”
Miranda held on to the Durango’s door handle as Danny sped around the hastily announced corner.
“It’s right up here about two,” Miranda paused and began to stumble as she quietly uttered the remainder of the sentence, “blocks.”
“Yep, I can see the lights. It looks like half the damn department is here.”
Danny pulled up to the house and hastily parked the black Durango on the wrong side of the street and jumped out as he threw the gear shift into park before the vehicle stopped rolling, leaving his door open and stoically lunging towards the crowd of officers scurrying around the crime scene.
“Fuck,” Miranda said as she slowly walked around the front of the Durango “this is - shit - I, I, I, uh...” Miranda trailed off.
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!
Wednesday, October 03, 2012
A murder story - part twelve
Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is really growing on me. This is the frist part of the second day of this winding and twisting crime saga. The second day gets very interesting...
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
“What the fuck?” Officer Kline’s cell phone buzzed on the bedside night stand. He muttered incoherently as he clumsily reached across his naked partner and girlfriend’s body, not caring if he woke her up or not.
“What?” Danny gruffly answered his phone as he looked at the glowing blue display of the alarm clock, taking a mental note of it reading 3:55 AM.
“Jeeeesus Christ,” Danny said rather flatly as Miranda sat up in bed and fumbled for her glasses, “Again?”
Miranda leaned in as she tried to hear the other side of the conversation, her bare breasts brushing Danny’s arm.
“Alright, yeah, I’ll call her and pick her up too. Just text me that address, I’ll be there ASAP.”
Danny sat the phone down and slowly slid out of bed and strode across the dark bedroom and entered the bathroom.
“What’s going on?” Miranda asked as she grabbed one of Danny’s t-shirts and pulled it on over her head.
“Another damn murder. And it sounds familiar.”
“How so Danny?” Miranda asked loudly as she headed down the hallway to quickly brew a pot of coffee.
Miranda returned to the bedroom and removed her borrowed t-shirt and stepped into the shower with Danny.
“Well, what’s the scoop Danny?” Miranda asked as she soaped up her body.
“Neighbor was woke up by some pretty serious screaming. It was one of the townhomes out on the north edge of town. Then a thud on her bedroom wall. That’s when she called 911. When the officer arrived, he checked next door and got no answer but did notice that the door was ajar. That’s when he saw the woman with a fireplace poker plunged through her stomach pinned to her bathroom door.”
“Fuck. Well I guess we’ll see what’s up when we get out there.”
“Yeah,” Danny said as he lathered his hair with a healthy dollop of shampoo and quickly rinsed it out, “but I’m not looking forward to getting called in on a Saturday but there’s almost gotta be some sort of connection. I mean two women don’t just end up pinned to something two days in a row without a connection. It’s too random of a way to kill someone.”
Miranda quickly lathered her hair with a fruit-scented shampoo. She giggled a bit as Danny played with her wet breasts.
Miranda reached out with her left hand and pushed Danny’s horny hands away from her breasts, “Jesus Danny, we don’t have time for you to play feelsy right now.”
“I know. I know. It’s just when I see you all wet and steamy I can’t help myself. I just want to suck on those boobies like a little-”
“Like a little baby? Do you see me as your mommy, Danny?”
“No, but-”
“Yeah, yeah. I know you’re a pervert Danny.”
Miranda leaned in and kissed Danny.
“Now get the fuck out of the shower and let’s see what kind of gore greets us before sunrise.” Miranda said as she stepped out of the shower, water dripping off of her and pooling on the tile floor.
Danny wandered down the hall and grabbed himself and Miranda travel cups of coffee, returning just as Miranda finished adjusting her bra.
“Shit, do I have a spare uniform here Danny?” Miranda asked as she hastily towel dried her blond hair.
“I think you have one in the closet. If not, you can wear what you have on.”
“Really? You’re encouraging me to work in my underwear?”
Danny laughed, “I know it would make me look very forward to the end of the day.”
“Very funny, Dan. Did you find a uniform for me?”
“Yeah, here you go babe.”
“Cool,” Miranda said as she wiggled her way into her blue police-issue pants, “We should be out of here in five minutes. Are you ready yet Danny?”
“Yeah,” Danny mumbled from inside his closet, “I’m almost ready, and I can shave on the way.”
Miranda grabbed her crime scene kit and both cups of coffee and hurriedly walked through Danny’s house to the garage where Danny was turning on his laptop and arranging his crime scene kit.
“Alright,” Danny said as he pushed the button for the garage door opener and turned the key in the Durango’s ignition, “Off we go in to the darkness of a mid-April morning. Only the Lord himself knows what this day will bring. We could bring an end to these murders or we could find still more terrible secrets. Secrets that lie just beneath the surface of the seemingly tame and mundane surface of Kennebrook.”
“Really,” Miranda said, pausing to gulp down a large swallow of coffee, “Did you just narrate the beginning of the fucking day, Danny? I mean it was a good narration but a bit dramatic for 4:25 AM, don’t you think?”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
“What the fuck?” Officer Kline’s cell phone buzzed on the bedside night stand. He muttered incoherently as he clumsily reached across his naked partner and girlfriend’s body, not caring if he woke her up or not.
“What?” Danny gruffly answered his phone as he looked at the glowing blue display of the alarm clock, taking a mental note of it reading 3:55 AM.
“Jeeeesus Christ,” Danny said rather flatly as Miranda sat up in bed and fumbled for her glasses, “Again?”
Miranda leaned in as she tried to hear the other side of the conversation, her bare breasts brushing Danny’s arm.
“Alright, yeah, I’ll call her and pick her up too. Just text me that address, I’ll be there ASAP.”
Danny sat the phone down and slowly slid out of bed and strode across the dark bedroom and entered the bathroom.
“What’s going on?” Miranda asked as she grabbed one of Danny’s t-shirts and pulled it on over her head.
“Another damn murder. And it sounds familiar.”
“How so Danny?” Miranda asked loudly as she headed down the hallway to quickly brew a pot of coffee.
Miranda returned to the bedroom and removed her borrowed t-shirt and stepped into the shower with Danny.
“Well, what’s the scoop Danny?” Miranda asked as she soaped up her body.
“Neighbor was woke up by some pretty serious screaming. It was one of the townhomes out on the north edge of town. Then a thud on her bedroom wall. That’s when she called 911. When the officer arrived, he checked next door and got no answer but did notice that the door was ajar. That’s when he saw the woman with a fireplace poker plunged through her stomach pinned to her bathroom door.”
“Fuck. Well I guess we’ll see what’s up when we get out there.”
“Yeah,” Danny said as he lathered his hair with a healthy dollop of shampoo and quickly rinsed it out, “but I’m not looking forward to getting called in on a Saturday but there’s almost gotta be some sort of connection. I mean two women don’t just end up pinned to something two days in a row without a connection. It’s too random of a way to kill someone.”
Miranda quickly lathered her hair with a fruit-scented shampoo. She giggled a bit as Danny played with her wet breasts.
Miranda reached out with her left hand and pushed Danny’s horny hands away from her breasts, “Jesus Danny, we don’t have time for you to play feelsy right now.”
“I know. I know. It’s just when I see you all wet and steamy I can’t help myself. I just want to suck on those boobies like a little-”
“Like a little baby? Do you see me as your mommy, Danny?”
“No, but-”
“Yeah, yeah. I know you’re a pervert Danny.”
Miranda leaned in and kissed Danny.
“Now get the fuck out of the shower and let’s see what kind of gore greets us before sunrise.” Miranda said as she stepped out of the shower, water dripping off of her and pooling on the tile floor.
Danny wandered down the hall and grabbed himself and Miranda travel cups of coffee, returning just as Miranda finished adjusting her bra.
“Shit, do I have a spare uniform here Danny?” Miranda asked as she hastily towel dried her blond hair.
“I think you have one in the closet. If not, you can wear what you have on.”
“Really? You’re encouraging me to work in my underwear?”
Danny laughed, “I know it would make me look very forward to the end of the day.”
“Very funny, Dan. Did you find a uniform for me?”
“Yeah, here you go babe.”
“Cool,” Miranda said as she wiggled her way into her blue police-issue pants, “We should be out of here in five minutes. Are you ready yet Danny?”
“Yeah,” Danny mumbled from inside his closet, “I’m almost ready, and I can shave on the way.”
Miranda grabbed her crime scene kit and both cups of coffee and hurriedly walked through Danny’s house to the garage where Danny was turning on his laptop and arranging his crime scene kit.
“Alright,” Danny said as he pushed the button for the garage door opener and turned the key in the Durango’s ignition, “Off we go in to the darkness of a mid-April morning. Only the Lord himself knows what this day will bring. We could bring an end to these murders or we could find still more terrible secrets. Secrets that lie just beneath the surface of the seemingly tame and mundane surface of Kennebrook.”
“Really,” Miranda said, pausing to gulp down a large swallow of coffee, “Did you just narrate the beginning of the fucking day, Danny? I mean it was a good narration but a bit dramatic for 4:25 AM, don’t you think?”
**********
Be sure to check back for the ongoing second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!
Tuesday, October 02, 2012
A murder story - part eleven
Welcome back to the continuing saga that is poorly titled (for now) "A Murder Story" although an earlier suggestion is growing on me. This is the final part of the first day of this winding and twisting crime saga. The second day gets very interesting...
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
Miranda was becoming somewhat giddy at the prospect of having some hard evidence that could lead to the murderer.
“Or they could be the prints of half the guys in Kennebrook,” Danny said as he slid into the driver’s seat of the victim’s car, “Remember what the ex-husband said, our victim liked to ride the old meat rocket quite a bit.”
Danny smiled at Miranda, obviously quite happy with his latest sex joke.
Miranda replied back with one of her many “I’ve never heard that one before” looks that she was known around the department for.
Both Miranda and Danny continued to examine their respective parts of Emily Jenkins’ car and were nearly done when one of the officers who had been working inside the home stepped in to the garage.
“We found the victim’s cell phone and some, uh, DNA as well.”
Danny craned his head out of the victim’s car, “Alright! Don’t spoil it for me. I’ll be in to see what’s been collected. Come on Officer Grove, join me if you will.”
Officer Grove, obviously frustrated by having to be pulled away from her work, put down her tools, removed her latex gloves and followed her partner back in to the home.
“Well?”
Kline anxiously tapped his foot waiting to hear what had been found inside the home.
“We found Ms. Jenkins’ cell phone in the garbage disposal. It’s mangled but we should be able to pull off at least some of the contacts, maybe the call history and text messages too. If not, we can surely track down her carrier and get the records there. At least we’ll have phone numbers to go on.”
“What about the DNA?” Kline blurted out, obviously more interested in the more human side of the murder than technology.
“You’re gonna like this,” the tall, thin officer chuckled, “We found plenty of DNA in the trash can in the bedroom upstairs. Six used condoms, two of which were fairly fresh.”
“What about the wrappers?” Kline smiled coyly.
“What about ‘em?”
“The brand. Were they all the same or were they different?”
“Every last one the same, all eight wrappers.”
“But you said you found six condoms in the trash,” Kline stated, “That leaves a couple rubbers unaccounted for.”
“Yeah, we kinda realized that. I’m thinking those two were flushed.”
“Huh,” Officer Grove finally interjected, “two different means of disposal, two different guys?”
“Or more.” Kline turned and stared at the victim. “How close are we to getting Ms. Jenkins off the wall and to the Medical Examiner’s office? We’re going to need a rape kit done on the body. Obviously check for any sign of sexual assault -- bruising, semen -- anything that gets us more DNA. And check each potential area of entry too.”
After dispensing directions for the officers bustling around the suburban Kennebrook residence, Danny Kline and Miranda Grove stepped out the rear patio door on to the home’s deck.
“Fuck, I guess we’ve got a couple options.” Miranda nodded her head as lead investigator Danny Kline pondered the team’s options aloud. “We can stick around here for a few more hours and keep working the scene and collecting evidence or we can turn things over to another officer, let the others finish up here and check in at the station, log our evidence and call it a week.”
“I’m all for plan B but you’re the boss, Danny,” Miranda leaned against the deck’s railing, pushing her hair off of her face in the light late afternoon breeze, “But it’s almost 7 PM and I have a feeling your mind is already made up.”
“Yeah,” Danny said as he began heading towards the garage where the team had been previously working, “I’m ready to turn this one over, clock out and get the fuck on with the weekend.”
“Then it’s settled,” Miranda said as she almost playfully skipped across the yard towards the garage behind her partner, “We can check in at the station, head back to your place to get ready for dinner and we should be at the restaurant around 8!”
“Hot damn,” Kline said as he flung the garage door open, “A quick shower -- maybe together to speed things up,” Kline turned back and smiled at Miranda, “Some drinks, some food and we can just see where the night goes.”
The duo each grabbed their crime scene kits, evidence bags and cameras and made their way to the police issue black Dodge Durango waiting in the driveway.
**********
Be sure to check back tomorrow for the second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!
If this is your first visit here, please feel free to go back and read the story from the beginning.
*********
Miranda was becoming somewhat giddy at the prospect of having some hard evidence that could lead to the murderer.
“Or they could be the prints of half the guys in Kennebrook,” Danny said as he slid into the driver’s seat of the victim’s car, “Remember what the ex-husband said, our victim liked to ride the old meat rocket quite a bit.”
Danny smiled at Miranda, obviously quite happy with his latest sex joke.
Miranda replied back with one of her many “I’ve never heard that one before” looks that she was known around the department for.
Both Miranda and Danny continued to examine their respective parts of Emily Jenkins’ car and were nearly done when one of the officers who had been working inside the home stepped in to the garage.
“We found the victim’s cell phone and some, uh, DNA as well.”
Danny craned his head out of the victim’s car, “Alright! Don’t spoil it for me. I’ll be in to see what’s been collected. Come on Officer Grove, join me if you will.”
Officer Grove, obviously frustrated by having to be pulled away from her work, put down her tools, removed her latex gloves and followed her partner back in to the home.
“Well?”
Kline anxiously tapped his foot waiting to hear what had been found inside the home.
“We found Ms. Jenkins’ cell phone in the garbage disposal. It’s mangled but we should be able to pull off at least some of the contacts, maybe the call history and text messages too. If not, we can surely track down her carrier and get the records there. At least we’ll have phone numbers to go on.”
“What about the DNA?” Kline blurted out, obviously more interested in the more human side of the murder than technology.
“You’re gonna like this,” the tall, thin officer chuckled, “We found plenty of DNA in the trash can in the bedroom upstairs. Six used condoms, two of which were fairly fresh.”
“What about the wrappers?” Kline smiled coyly.
“What about ‘em?”
“The brand. Were they all the same or were they different?”
“Every last one the same, all eight wrappers.”
“But you said you found six condoms in the trash,” Kline stated, “That leaves a couple rubbers unaccounted for.”
“Yeah, we kinda realized that. I’m thinking those two were flushed.”
“Huh,” Officer Grove finally interjected, “two different means of disposal, two different guys?”
“Or more.” Kline turned and stared at the victim. “How close are we to getting Ms. Jenkins off the wall and to the Medical Examiner’s office? We’re going to need a rape kit done on the body. Obviously check for any sign of sexual assault -- bruising, semen -- anything that gets us more DNA. And check each potential area of entry too.”
After dispensing directions for the officers bustling around the suburban Kennebrook residence, Danny Kline and Miranda Grove stepped out the rear patio door on to the home’s deck.
“Fuck, I guess we’ve got a couple options.” Miranda nodded her head as lead investigator Danny Kline pondered the team’s options aloud. “We can stick around here for a few more hours and keep working the scene and collecting evidence or we can turn things over to another officer, let the others finish up here and check in at the station, log our evidence and call it a week.”
“I’m all for plan B but you’re the boss, Danny,” Miranda leaned against the deck’s railing, pushing her hair off of her face in the light late afternoon breeze, “But it’s almost 7 PM and I have a feeling your mind is already made up.”
“Yeah,” Danny said as he began heading towards the garage where the team had been previously working, “I’m ready to turn this one over, clock out and get the fuck on with the weekend.”
“Then it’s settled,” Miranda said as she almost playfully skipped across the yard towards the garage behind her partner, “We can check in at the station, head back to your place to get ready for dinner and we should be at the restaurant around 8!”
“Hot damn,” Kline said as he flung the garage door open, “A quick shower -- maybe together to speed things up,” Kline turned back and smiled at Miranda, “Some drinks, some food and we can just see where the night goes.”
The duo each grabbed their crime scene kits, evidence bags and cameras and made their way to the police issue black Dodge Durango waiting in the driveway.
**********
Be sure to check back tomorrow for the second chapter of this intriguing murder mystery!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)