My Spy 3: Murder Mayhem

Poppy

Ryan still has a firm grasp around me as he calls the police. I can't look toward her body but I am also puzzled as to how she could have ended up face down, on the fourth hole of a golf course in the middle of the night. She's still wearing the thin dress that she was wearing at the meeting but she doesn't have anything else on her. No purse, no cellphone not even a jacket.

As Ryan makes several phone calls I am glued to his chest. The sun is now pleasantly sitting above the tree line we had just been gazing at which means the grounds crew will be over this way any moment now. Ryan finally drops his phone into his pocket and tells me, "The police are on their way, we'll need to give statements. Are you able to do that?" I finally pull away from him and nod. I pluck up the courage to look behind me and I instantly regret it. Even though I am several feet away, I can see a large gash in the back of Poppy's head. A scarlet gooey wound sits at the center of her wild black hair. Hardly louder than a whisper I ask, "Who could have done this to Poppy?"

"I don't know. Can I leave you here for a second?" I look at him nervously before reluctantly dropping my death grip around his waist. He takes a couple of steps toward her and I want to reach out and yank him back. I then remember he is a special agent in the F.B.I and I'm sure this is not his first dead body.

He circles around her before kneeling next to her head. He never touches her but he looks to her limp hands and his eyes glide down her long bare legs. He looks to me and says, "From what I can tell, there are no signs of a struggle. There are no markings on her face or arms, her fingernails are still long and perfectly manicured. I don't think Poppy saw this coming." My eyes glance down at feet and I say, "She clearly wasn't running either."

"How can you tell?"

"She's wearing four-inch platforms. Even with an ankle strap, it's damn near impossible to sprint on grass wearing wobbly heels," I answer and he glances to her feet. What on earth was Poppy doing at the country club in the middle of the night?

I finally hear sirens in the distance and I see a few high school-looking boys riding mowers coming down the hill. I glance to Ryan and he uses his arms to wave to the boys. One shouts something at us but I can't hear what he said over the loud mower engine. Ryan takes a few steps toward the crew and when they finally cut the ignition, one of the boys says, "The club doesn't open until ten. Y'all can't be here." Ryan holds out his hand and replies, "I'm special agent Ryan Hart of the F.B.I. There's been a crime here that we need sealed off and the police have already been notified." The two boys exchange glances and I think one wants to call out, "Bullshit." Ryan finally glances behind him and the boys climb off their mowers. They take a few steps toward us but Ryan immediately holds his hands up, "I can't let y'all come any closer." I watch as they spot the dead body right as the Hollis police officers come trotting down the hill. Both boys take a step back while looking green. Ryan strides forward to greet the officers while I wish to be anywhere other than here.

I watch as Ryan recounts his version of what happened to, who I am assuming, is the head honcho of the Hollis police department and after, Ryan points him in my direction. The older man runs his beady brown eyes over Poppy before looking back at me. He barrels toward me and plants his feet firmly in a bulldog stance while he skims over his notes from his conversation with Ryan. His thick, rough hand grips mine tightly and with a hoarse voice says, "Mornin' Miss. I'm Detective Mason Connor. Agent Hart over there told me you two were the ones that discovered the body?" I glance back to the officers spreading, "do not cross" tape around the perimeter of the body and then look back to the detective, "Yes sir."

"I'm going to need a statement from the two of y'all. Are you in a condition that you are able to answer a few of my questions?" I nod. The sooner I do my part, the sooner I can run far away from all this. He guides me by my elbow to a spot away from the people working around Poppy. I fold my arms across my chest and even though it's warm outside, I'm shivering all over.

"Can you state your name for me, miss?" He asks and I nod, "Sawyer, Sawyer Sweeney."

His eyes widen, "As in Delilah Sweeney?"

"Yes, she's my mother," I answer and I'm already dreading that my name will somehow end up in the paper. He scribbles some notes down on a small notepad and then darts his eyes back to me, "What were y'all doin' on the golf course at such an early hour?" I swallow hard knowing trespassing is a pricey ticket. I bite my lip before replying with the truth.

"We wanted to watch the sunrise. We sat up there on the seventh hole and watched the sun come up. We were running back to my mother's car when we stumbled across...Poppy."

"Poppy? You know the victim?" He asks.

"Yes sir. We went to the same high school and are both in the Historical Society together."

"Did you see anyone else out here on the course with ya? Or see anything else out of the ordinary? I shake my head as I look to the older man, "Afraid not. But by the color of Poppy's face, I'd imagine she's been left out here for a bit before we found her."

"Now don't go assuming you are a coroner, Ms. Sweeney. We ain't got all the facts yet," he says condescendingly but I shrug off his rudeness. I keep my mouth in a thin line and I catch Ryan's eye as he speaks with the other officers. He's probably the most qualified person here seeing Hollis hardly ever experiences murders. I'm surprised they aren't bumbling about, just scratching their heads.

"I'll need you to stay around town for the next few days in case I need to ask you more questions," he says after he finishes scribbling down his notes.

"All of Hollis knows where I live, so it shouldn't be too hard to find me." I turn away from the detective and move over to Ryan. I put my hand in his and ask him, "Are we free to leave yet? I really don't like being this close to Poppy looking like that." Her wide blue eyes look like glass as she stares into the abyss. I shudder as I look away from her. Ryan kisses the top of my head and says, "Let's get you home. I'm going to come back and see if I can help out with the investigation."

"Don't trust Hollis's finest?" I ask and he shoots me a look, "I think they could use some assistance." He pulls me into him and we start making our way to the parking lot. I can see about five police cars, an ambulance and a coroner's van idling in the county club valet area. I spot Momma's white Mercedes parked in a back spot and pull the car keys from my pocket. As we are approaching the car, I watch a gold SUV pulls into the lot and suddenly I feel like I am going to be sick.

I watch as it slams into park and both the front doors shoot open. As if in slow motion, I watch as Poppy's parents come frantically bursting out of the car with the look of pure shock and loss written all over their faces.

Reality finally hits me. Someone murdered Poppy Penderghast and it couldn't have been long before Ryan and I arrived on the course.