RED

bayous, morgues, and swamps

little filler chapter for y'all today! 

word count: 1431

The crime scene was set deep in the New Orleans bayou, where the thick air clung to Emily's skin, making her feel like she was wading through molasses. The tall cypress trees loomed overhead, their moss-draped branches casting eerie shadows across the water. The ground was a mixture of mud and decaying leaves, with patches of water reflecting the muted light of the overcast sky. The constant hum of insects and distant croaks of frogs added to the oppressive atmosphere.

Emily and Derek stepped out of their SUV, their boots sinking slightly into the soggy ground. A few local cops were already there, standing in small groups, their uniforms darkened with mud. One officer, a tall man with a shaved head and a perpetual scowl, looked up as they approached.

"Ah, great, more feds," he muttered, just loud enough for Derek to hear.

"Don't worry," Derek said with a grin, "we're not here to steal your thunder. Just here to make sure we all get to the right conclusion."

The officer's scowl deepened. "Yeah, because the local yokels wouldn't know how to do their jobs without you."

Emily stepped in, her tone sharp but professional. "We're all on the same side here. The sooner we figure out what happened, the sooner we can all get out of this swamp."

The officer glared at her for a moment before nodding curtly and walking away.

Derek chuckled as they began examining the scene. "You really know how to make friends, Prentiss."

Emily smirked. "I'm here to solve a case, not win a popularity contest."

They moved deeper into the crime scene, where the body had been found partially submerged in the murky water. The ground was a patchwork of footprints, some of them fresh, others nearly obliterated by the damp earth. Derek knelt down, examining a set of tracks leading away from the scene.

"These tracks are fresh," he noted, the mud squelching under his fingers. "Whoever was here didn't try too hard to cover their tracks. Might have been in a hurry."

"Or they knew the area so well they didn't think they needed to," Emily added, glancing around at the thick undergrowth that seemed to swallow everything whole. "We need to find out who's familiar with this part of the bayou."

As they continued to investigate, the officer from earlier hovered nearby, still visibly irritated but trying to appear helpful.

"Anything we can do to help?" he asked, his tone grudging.

"Just keep the perimeter secure and make sure no one else contaminates the scene," Derek said, his voice firm but not unfriendly. "We'll let you know if we need anything."

The officer nodded stiffly and walked off, finally giving them some space.

"Think he'll actually do what we ask?" Emily asked, raising an eyebrow.

Derek shrugged. "If he knows what's good for him."

Meanwhile, JJ and Spencer were at the New Orleans Parish morgue, a stark, cold building that stood in stark contrast to the vibrant, humid city outside. The sterile smell of chemicals and antiseptic barely masked the faint odor of decay that seemed to cling to everything. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a harsh white light over the gleaming steel tables.

Dr. Paul Laurent, the medical examiner, was already elbow-deep in the autopsy of the latest victim when they arrived. He was a wiry man with graying hair and sharp, almost birdlike features. His eyes were hidden behind thick glasses, and he barely glanced up as JJ and Spencer entered.