Memphis May Fire (#1 of the Harleigh Lynn series)

Chapter Two: Breakthrough

Everyone went silent for a moment, and Harleigh was all too aware of the birds chirping and the traffic flying by. Pereira seemed lost in thought, but then he moved to the edge of the fountain and set one hand on the rim.

"Please don't touch that," the burly officer warned.

"Powell, they won't find prints here," Pereira returned, "Trust me. What do you think they put in the water?"

"It's not paint," Harleigh said, "Paint would sink to the bottom."

"Yeah, we know," Gene informed her, "It's probably dye. Water based."

Harleigh frowned at him, and he ignored her, glancing down at the water.

"I'm thinking more than one person," Pereira continued, his hazel eyes thoughtful, "Carrying all the heads couldn't have been easy. Even if you parked nearby, this is the type of thing you want to do quickly. Have tests come in yet?"

Powell shook his head and rubbed his beard.

"No. Don't know what they'd prove."

Pereira nodded and dipped a finger in the red liquid, sending ripples through the water. The heads bobbed ominously.

Wilma gasped.

"Ari, for God's sake!"

He gazed back at her.

"Wilma, please, you know I don't like it," he commented mildly, sticking the finger in his mouth.

"Ari!" Gene yelled, "What are you doing? This is a crime scene!"

Ari... sounds like a middle-eastern name. He doesn't like the word God...at least not in this context. Religious?  Harleigh wondered.

She inspected the edges of the fountain but didn't see any scratches or bumps.

"No taste," Pereira commented, "It could be food dye."

Markov nodded.

"There are no leaves in the fountain," he said, and Harleigh realized his accent was German.

Everyone looked at the water, and Gene picked up a leaf that had landed on the side of the fountain.

"Yeah, you're right. Who cleans the leaves out first?"

"A madman," Markov stated.

His face was tight and hard.

"It rained last night. Are there prints in the park?" he continued.

Ari's eyebrows lifted and he turned to Powell. The officer shook his head and stroked his auburn beard.

"Pereira, we've got nothing. It's like a ghost did it."

"Markov, anything else?" Pereira asked.

The tall man shook his head.

"It is as this man says. It's like a ghost did it."

It's like a ghost did it. Ghosts don't exist, Harleigh's thought chanted, Ghosts don't exist. Ghosts don't—

Harleigh put in her headphones and pressed shuffle on her phone. Her thoughts weren't helping, even though she'd tried for hours. So she stood up from her computer and began unpacking her suitcase.