Wrestling the Kraken

Claire Bernett

Claire Bernett

Case No. : 00101099012

Date : March 26, 1971

Location: City of Fox Hollow

Status : Homicide

Setting my keys down, I rubbed the back of my neck. It felt so good to be home. Getting into a story tends to consume me and it's hard to know when to stop. You'd figure the cue to go home would be when they shut off the lights in the building and I'm working by the glow of my puny little desk lamp.

This story was going to be good. Not even Armand Rossini could take my job away now, not after what I knew. Between my exclusive with Dante Rossini- which still made me smile remembering- and the discovery of the body, I had the story of the decade. No one has been able to get any headway on the Rose Murders and I was about to take a sledge hammer to it.

Not bothering with any of the lights, since I would be climbing into bed soon, I walked into the kitchen. It had been a long while since that turkey club I had earlier. Standing in front of the fridge, I couldn't decide what I wanted.

There was some leftover Lomein from... oh, never mind, two weeks ago. Standing on my toes to see behind the milk, there was some roast beef from the deli. Should still be good. Did I really want to eat this late though? It would just keep me up later and what I really needed was some sleep. I settled for milk. Grabbing it out of the fridge, I smelled it first, you know, to make sure. Then I took two big gulps straight from the gallon. Yeah, I live alone.

Now, the important question, to shower or not to shower? I leaned my head over, raising my arm just a bit. I didn't even need to bring it up any farther. A shower was definitely in order.

Turning the water on, I undressed, rubbing the scar on my lower back. It didn't usually bother me, not anymore, but lately it has been flaring up. A nagging reminder of memories I had tried to put to bed.

Getting into the shower, I let the water pour over my head and down my body. The memories untucked themselves.

The family trip to Niagara Falls when I was 16. My dad, singing in his cracked voice. My mom with her face to the map, utterly lost. The sharp turn. The car not slowing down. The crash. The broken glass stuck to my lower back. The blackout. Waking up and being the only one that did.

I ended up staying with my aunt in Maine. We were never close, but she did her best. As I grew older, I became obsessed with finding answers. That day never seemed right.

My dad was a stickler for driving carefully and abiding by the speed limit. He took care of the car too... I checked.

With enough digging, eventually I found the source. Faulty brake pads. They were brand new, but apparently we weren't the only ones to have accidents with those particular brakes. Accidents were happening all over. I contacted the manufacturer, but they denied any fault in their product.

Since they weren't going to cooperate, I took my research and story and went straight to the local newspaper. They let me have the story, putting my name in the article. Shortly after, the manufacturer issued a recall.

I felt like I saved a lot of lives that day. My parents would have been proud. That's when I decided to become a reporter and I love chasing the hard cases. These Rose Murders are just the kind of case that I can't let go of.

Turning my face into the water, I held my hand on the knob. I stayed longer than I had meant to, but the warm water felt too good to just hop in and out. I needed to get some kind of rest though, so I forced my hand to shut the water off.

Wringing my hair out, I stepped out of the shower. A rush of cool air met me as I scrambled for my towel. Wrapping it around me, I thought I heard a subtle noise. A soft thud. Listening carefully, there was only silence. Must have been the neighbors. I stepped out into my bedroom and slipped on my nightgown that I had laid across my bed. This one was one of my favorites. A baby blue, full length gown that had lace on the top and down the center. I didn't own many things that made me feel girly, but this was one of them. It made me feel like one of those sophisticated ladies on screen. Most of the time I just had a flannel set or a long sleeve, cotton gown. Tonight, I wanted to fall asleep remembering my 'exclusive' with Dante.

I pulled the linens back and as I did, the bed called to me. It begged me to come lie and feel it's gentle touch, sending me off into my dreams. Lifting a knee to the bed, more than ready to get in, I felt a tug back.

My body was alarmed, confused at what happened. Hands wrapped around me and a cloth smothered my face. I can't breathe! Oh God, I can't breathe! I'm trying to kick, to scream, but I'm losing strength. My head is heavy. I'm heavy. I caught a glimpse of a dark figure, masked, from my vanity mirror, before my vision blurred. Then...darkness.