Chapter 6

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You're walking down the sidewalk of a funeral home, you're carrying your fingerprint kit. You stop and see - Country people, you listen and hear the music that's playing "shall we gather at the river?". several of the mourners glance over at you, you stare back at the mourners, hearing the music, a memory is triggered by this...

You're in your best dress, reluctantly approaching a casket. the coffin looming the closer you get, closer and closer... Until you can see, Lying inside it... your dead father, arms folded, his marshals badge still pinned to his lapel.

"Y/N..." Crawford says, and you snap back to reality.

You turn to the impatient Crawford. "Were around back." A young deputy, several state troopers, and a sheriff, are all waiting, as you and Crawford enter. Crawford shakes the sheriff's hand. "Sheriff Perkins? Jack Crawford, FBI... This is officer Y/N. We appreciate your calling us. Crawford says. "I didn't call you. That was somebody from the state attorney's office... 'For you do a thing else, I'm gon' find out if this girl's local. It could just be something' that outside elements dumped on us."

The sheriff casts a sidelong, giving an unhappy glance at you. "Well-sir, that's where we can help. If- " Crawford tells the Sheriff "I don't even know you, Mister... Now we'll extend you every courtesy, just as soon as we can, but for right now - " The sheriff answers "Sheriff, this, ah - this type of sex crime has some aspects i'd rather discuss just between the two of us. Know what I mean?" Crawford tells the Sheriff, Crawford indicates he doesn't want to discuss it in front of you with his eyes, the Sheriff hesitates, nods, then Crawford guides him to into a small office, closing the door behind them. you can only here muffled words coming from the room.

You're left alone with the troopers, who peek at you with curiosity. You pull your blazer a bit tighter, self-conscious about your bulging shoulder holster. After a few more moments, the Sheriff and Crawford emerge. The Sheriff, still not very happy, addresses his deputy. "Oscar, run fetch Dr. Akin from the chapel. And tell Lamar to come on when he's done playing' that music" the Sheriff says. You and Crawford start walking to the embalming room.

Crawford, in the corner of the room, sets up the Litton police-fax fingerprint transmitter, he's on the phone, speaking loudly. "I need a six-way linkup! Chicago, Detroit, Cleveland, St. Louis, Atlanta, and Dallas... What?... Can you hear me?" Crawford asks, he looks around, frustrated by the noisy circus atmosphere. You pull on a pair of surgical gloves, you raise your voice, turning your natural accent up by several notches. "Gentlemen, you officers and gentlemen! listen here a minute, please! There's things I need to do for her..." you say, the troopers and deputy fall silent and look at you "Y'll brought her this far, and i know her folks would thank you if they could. Now please - go on out and let me take care of her... go on, now." you tell them, the men look at each other, a little bashfully, then begin to file out, whispering among themselves. As they go, a bright green body bag is revealed, tightly zipped, lying on a porcelain embalming table. Jack Crawford looks at you with a new degree of respect. Men brush by him, till finally only you, Jack, Dr. Akin, and Lamar are left, Lamar dabs under his nose with Vicks VapoRub.

"Were starting. Tell everybody to stand by for fingerprint transmission" Crawford says on the phone. You stand at the side counter, back turned from the fingerprint kit, you lift your camera and hear the zipper - of the body bag - slowly open... One gloved hand flies over your mouth as you react, involuntarily, to the smell. You blink at your reflection in the cabinet glass, then steel yourself to look at the corpse. "Bill..." you whisper You steady yourself by lifting your camera and taking a flash photo. Dr. Akin lifts one of the arms of the dead girl. A piece of fishing line, with multiple hooks, is snagged around it, dangling. Crawford leans to get a closer look. "Wrongful death... She'll have to go to the state pathologist at Claxton when you're done." Crawford nods at what Dr. Akin said "I better - get on back for the rest of that service. Lamar'll help you. Lord almighty..." Dr. Akin says

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