The Edge

Chapter 4 - The Call of the Wild(er)

The school week was a short one. Students only attended on Thursday and Friday, so the weekend has already arrived. I've decided to use my time to do some research into the Rebecca Temple case. Wes doesn't like it, but seems to have accepted that he's going to be hearing a lot about the Temple murders.

At the moment, he's playing videogames in his usual spot on the couch (which is probably permanently imprinted in the shape of his butt). I'm immersed in reading articles I've pulled up on my laptop.

"At 5:00 p.m. on the night of Rebecca Temple's murder, she called her husband to tell him that she was going out with a friend after work," I remark. "Later, the husband couldn't remember whether she had given him that person's name. All of Rebecca's friends who were interviewed by the police stated that no plans were made with her that night, and the police never discovered with whom she'd met up, if anyone. Very fishy, in my opinion. Why couldn't they track that person down? Had Rebecca gone out with a friend from out of town? Was she cheating on her husband? Was one of her friends lying? Was the husband? These were important questions which were never resolved."

"Well, this is Edgewater, Mississippi," he says drily. "Population 6,000. Out of which, 5,998 consist of country bumpkins. You think the cops get many serious cases to work on?" He suddenly begins shouting incoherently as his virtual character is confronted by a zombie horde.

"Meth lab explosions, maybe? Farm animal rape?" I suggest, ignoring his anguish. "I actually like this place; it's kind of quaint and picturesque. If you'd ever bother getting out of the house, you'd notice that there are some pretty swanky neighborhoods around here."

"Is 'swanky' a fancy way of saying podunk?"

Edgewater is a strange mixture of old and new, a dash of Southern charm mixed in with the derelict. Historic homes and Civil War era architecture share the town with ugly strip malls and neglected communities.

"Okay then, is it better to be living here with me, or back in Jackson with Dad and his new squeeze?" He grimaces at the thought of her, but doesn't reply.

"Here are the other problems I have with this case," I say. "First, they considered it to a rape/homicide on the basis that she had been discovered naked and spread-eagle, with 'signs of trauma.' That's the motivation for the crime that they ran with. However, she had been cut up and stabbed so many times that it was difficult to assess what other injuries she sustained." Riley wasn't exaggerating when she used the phrase 'gutted like a fish.' Ugh. "And, there was no DNA found on the body."

"Goddamn zombie bastards!" cries Wes, followed by, "No DNA doesn't mean no rape."

"You're right, but I think it was a preemptive conclusion."

"Bumpkins, as I said," he answers distractedly. "What else?"

"Witnesses described several people to police who had been seen around the lake at sunset, shortly before Rebecca was killed there. One of the possible suspects was described as a teenage male with dark hair, dressed in a black trenchcoat. This is what led police to their prime suspect, Luke Wilder."

"That seems like a - you undead prick! - like a logical conclusion."

"They barely even looked for the other possible suspects," I comment. "A couple of people were questioned, but he was the main focus right from the beginning. Of course, he seemed to be a weird kid. Apparently there were all kinds of stories scattered around about his purported deeds...that he was into killing animals, that he had a blood fetish and a fixation on the occult...things that don't tend to cast one in a very sane light. Also, Rebecca didn't seem to have any enemies. She appeared to have been friendly and well-liked. She worked as a bank teller in town. Never any implication that the crime was related to her job. Her husband was alibied by their kids. The conclusion they drew was that her murder was possibly a random act."