Letters

Digging Deeper

"Willow!" A voice called out. Willow stood up from her desk and looked toward the front of the office, everyone turned to look with her. It was Officer Jeffry. He was standing by the front desk, one hand on his gun and another on his hat. He eyes moved throughout the office slowly.

"Officer Jeffry." Willow said moving to greet him. He wasted no time, jogging towards her though. Willow barely met him halfway.

"You must come with me right away."

"Me? Why?" Willow asked worriedly.

"The murders you've been reporting on, well... There's been another." That made the count an even ten. Willow pursed her lips. Who was it this time? Another husband? A wife? A mother?

"Who has been killed?" Slowly, Officer Jeffry took off his hat.

"That's why I'm here ma'am. It's someone you know. We need you to identify the body." Willow was shocked to her core. Who was dead? Who had been killed? Everyone in the office was alive and accounted for, her only friends Steve and Bucky were away. That left.. A lot of people actually. Willow interacted with so many men and women sometimes it was hard to keep track of all their names and faces.

"Mary-Beth, tell Wallace I'll be back if he asks for me." Willow said grabbing up her jacket.

"Of course Willow. I'm sorry for your loss." Willow nodded her head slowly. The only question was who had died?

----

"Just through here ma'am. I'm sorry for your loss." The Coroner said, opening the door to the morgue. Willow's mouth was dry and her hands were shaking in anticipation.

"Jeffery, who is it?" Willow asked quietly, staring at the body on the table covered by the white sheet.

"I wasn't positive Ma'am, that's why you're here but I think it's Old Man Allen." The sheet was pulled back and Willow gasped. There he was, Old Man Allen from from the alley.

"Yes. That's him." Willow whispered turning away. The sheet was put back to cover his head, though Willow would never forget how cold and white his skin looked.

"I'm sorry Willow but you were really the only one who knew who he was. I'm sorry to bring you here." Officer Jeffery said, touching her shoulder lightly.

"Did he die just like the rest?" Willow whispered.

"Yes. Bruises and similar puncture wounds." Willow put her hand to her mouth. She had seen the small wounds on his face. Wallace had said they looked like pin cushions. Willow was sure there would be a lot more all over his body.

"Did they figure out the cause of death?"

"A concoction of chemicals Miss Peterson. That's how they've all died. Someone is shooting them up with science experiments. These chemicals could kill an army of men."

"And we're no closer to finding the people responsible for this." Officer Jeffery shook his head slowly.

"The description that Allen gave us wasn't specific enough and there haven't been any more witnesses." Willow sighed, shaking her head and heading for the door.

"No witnesses, just more bodies."

"Willow, Allen wasn't the only reason I called you down here." Willow stopped at the door as a Officer Jeffery said this. She turned slowly as he pulled something from the inside pocket of his jacket. "There was a note on his body. It was addressed to you."

"A note?" Willow said walking back towards him. Officer Jeffery said nothing, just handed it to her.

Willow,
If you wish to find us, you have to die like them.

"How do they know my name?" Willow gasped handing the note back to him in the plastic bag. Officer Jeffery took it and put it away.

"It's possible, the people doing these, know you or read your paper. But we can't trace it. Do you have any enemies Willow?" Willow shook her head slowly.

"No, none. Nobody I can think of." Willow had never made anyone angry. She had always been pleasant and kind to people and the paper was read all across New York. It was one of the best read ones, it could be anybody

"Well, I'll drive you back to your office Miss Willow if you please." Officer Jeffery said gesturing towards the door. Willow swallowed hard, nodding. They left the morgue but the message stayed with Willow. If she was to keep reporting on these murders, she and no doubt in her mind that she would end up just like them.

April 20th, 1943

Dear Steven,

I hear your voice too, in your letters. It almost feels like you're here with me Steve but then I open my eyes and remember you're not. While this saddens me, I am happy to know that you are traveling the country and doing your part in the war effort.

Crime is low, you are correct and I promise you, no more late nights. The murders I told you about.. Well, they've killed Old Man Allen. I had to identify the body. Nobody else knew him. Officer Jeffery couldn't confirm it himself so I had to. He looked like a damn pin cushion Steve. Whatever these men are doing to these people, they're filling them up with a concoction of chemicals. I don't know what for.

I don't want you to worry though. I'm going to stop writing stories on them. The police said it's too dangerous. They warned me not to.

Of course I'll try to get in contact with Callie. I'm so sorry to hear about your friend. I knew how much you liked her. She seems like a lovely girl. I'll try to find her somehow and see how she's doing.

I'll be sure to stay out of trouble from where on out Steve. You can count on me.

I'm sure you did a fantastic job Steve. In fact, I know you did. Why just last week, some of the girls and I went to see one of your shows. They loved it and I can't wait for the next installment.

Oh that's okay I guess. Hopefully you'll have more stories to tell now that you're in Hollywood. You're coming home soon aren't you? Your last big show was in Los Angeles and from your schedule, you should be taking a train back here for your final show in New York City. I'm so excited to see you. Of course I already have a ticket to see you, front and center.

Poster Boy my ass. Steve, don't argue about this with me. Your role is important and you will have your own men to lead one day. Believe me when I say this. Your efforts are being noticed. People look up to you. You're a symbol of hope.

That was a beautiful poem Steven. I love you.

Love,
Willow Peterson