Through the Eyes of Prendle

Chapter 8: Crime Scene

The car ride to former Chief Detective John Justice's home was silent. Jeff stared out the window for the duration of the trip, and Lucas was busy with his eyes on the road, his thoughts going haywire inside his head. Had he caused this? He had left him merely hours ago. Was there some indication? If there had been, he missed it.

He pulled into the alleyway, the same alley he had walked down the night before. There were sirens and flashing lights all around. Emergency vehicles were crowded on the tiny street, packed in like sardines. The area where the crime was committed had already been properly roped off, and cameras were everywhere. He feared the press would already be there. Something like this, the death of a former police officer, was news.

Lucas parked the car close to the other official vehicles and got out. Jeff, still silent, got out of the car, too. They came around the front of the car and fell in step with one another.

"Now," Lucas said in a low voice, "I want you to keep your head clear, alright? I know the two of you were close, and this will be hard for you. Do you want off the case?"

Jeff looked up at him like he had gone completely insane. "No. I want to bring whoever did this to their knees, and then I want to shoot them in the face with the gun on my side."

"I know you're angry, Jeff. I do, but you have to keep a cool head, alright? And don't say anything to the press."

"I know the drill," Jeff told him bitterly.

The two of them walked the rest of the way in silence. When the reporters spotted them, they rushed forward, their microphones outstretched. Jeff saw them coming and veered in another direction. He had been there so many times he knew his way around. Lucas let him go without protest. Jeff was angry, and it was probably best he didn't talk to the press anyway. He walked on, never wavering from his path, and the reporters reached him in seconds.

"Chief Detective Lucas Findlay, we understand there is a murder here, the murder of the former Chief Detective John Justice," one woman shouted at him. "Any thoughts?"

"As you can see," Lucas told her, "I've not been inside. And even if I had been inside, I would have no comment for you."

A man in front of him nearly jabbed his microphone in Lucas's mouth. "Does this have anything to do with the other open murder cases in the city?"

"Again, no comment. Excuse me." Lucas pushed past the mass of press and walked briskly up to the yellow caution tape. Officers guarding the perimeter lifted it for him, and he ducked safely under. "Make sure not one of those vultures gets in here," he told them firmly. "I don't want John's death going viral." The officers nodded in understanding, and Lucas went on his way.

He walked up to the door, and his mind flashed back to last night. John hadn't shaved, but he still wore a smile. He remembered thinking how odd it was, but then he had just shrugged it off. Was that the first sign? Suddenly, something occurred to Lucas. What if it wasn't a murder at all? What if it was a suicide? He did seem to feel guilty about Prendle. Lucas took a deep breath, grasped the door handle, and stepped inside.

He spotted Jeff first thing. Jeff hung his head, staring at the body sprawled on the floor. A lump formed in his throat as Lucas glanced around the room. There was blood splattered on the wall near the body and a pool of blood all over the floor. He placed his hand over his mouth. He had never seen anything so gruesome in his entire life. Jeff glanced back and caught Lucas's eye. Jeff's face was distorted, his eyes swimming with tears. Lucas went up to him and laid his hand comfortingly on his shoulder.

"Come on, Jeff."

"I'm not- I want to work this case," he protested. "Please don't take me off."

Lucas sighed wearily. "I won't, but you don't need to be here now. John wasn't only a colleague to you. He was your friend. You look like you need a break."