Thicker Than Blood

Chapter 4: The Body

Our conversation continues on as we carry along down the road.  Trees rushing along our sides as we keep our eyes out for the number 23 somewhere in the dark.  As time passes by, the car becomes filled with silence.  The only noise to be heard was the warm breath of the two of us, Jim Roger and John Louis.  Then, out of the blue, a scream can be heard from the passenger side.

"Stop!" John screams as his head hangs out the window. 

"Great job John! Nice eyes," I said with a smirk on my face.

"Not too bad of a pair of lookers for an old guy like me, eh?" John just laughed as I took the long, dirt driveway up to the cabin.

Parking the car just outside the front door.  Seeing no lights on within the place, me and John looked at each other.  I believe he must have been thinking the same thing as me with the look on his face; this does not look good.  John then spoke up.

"You take the left and back.  I'll take the right and front."

Agreeing with him, I nodded my head up and down.  Hopping out the car, planting my two feet on the ground to which a familiar feeling overcame my body. 

Reaching for my flash light in my duty belt and turning the piercing light on with one click of a button.  Shining it through the windows.  Coming across no sign of life inside.  I then proceed to knock on the windows.  No response.

Making my way around, I approach the back door.

"Hello, Butte County Police. Open up!" Shouting through the door, listening afterwards for any noise.

"Hey John, you got anything?"

"Nope, although the front door is unlocked."

Unlocked? That's odd.  No one nowadays leaves their door wide open with the recent development of serial killers around the country.  That was very strange. 

I make my way to the front where I find John standing at the front door looking through the door's windows.

"Well, I guess we go in." John extends his hand out towards the door lock.  Grasping it, opening the door.  Revealing the living room. 

At a first glance, the place looked normal.  Shoes placed next to the door. A raincoat hung beside the door on a hook.  The couch looking as if no one has ever taken a seat in it.  The place showed no sign of struggle.  Yet, as many of us know in this business, nothing is as it appears.

Walking through the living room and into the kitchen, I am hit with a well-known smell.  I just seem as if I can't escape it where ever I go.  It's the "Ronnie's special".  God! I thought I'd finally get a break from those idiots but no.  I guess I just cannot get away from those pigs.

"Jesus fucking Christ! Ah, Roger, you might want to come here!"  John stumbled over his words.  Sounding mortified and in pure shock.  As if he had just seen a ghost or something.  For an old fellow, he sure sounds like a scared little kid.

"What you got, Chump?" I walk down the hallway and turn the corner into a bedroom where I am then presented with a red room.  And in the middle of this red room, lays a girl's body torn apart. 

"You think that's paint on the wall, Jim?" John just stood there with his facial expression swept away.  Taking a large gulp as he inhaled.

"No, John, that would be the lady's blood.  Once inside her, now being used as finger paint."  The white wall peeking through the streaks in the blood.

John slowly replies.  His voice going an octave higher, "Oh, alright. Great!"

I grab the radio from my belt, radioing to Dwight.  Confirming the body and requesting back up.

"Dwight, I can confirm a 187.  Send some other cars up here and inform the state police.  It's not a pretty sight up here."

As John just stood in the door way of the room, I decided to walk around and look for any clues on who may have done this. Looking in drawers and behind the beds. Scouring the whole place.  It seems as whoever did this, did not want to get caught. John had finally exited the house, grabbing some fresh air outside.

After searching the house, I make the decision to search the body.  Approaching the girl, seeing her face caved in with her eyes seemingly popped out her head.  Only being attached by the optic nerve.  The other parts of her body were unidentifiable.  Her arms have seemed to be sawed off and placed where her legs once were.  Her torso split in half, resembling the infamous Black Dahlia. Observing her body, I noticed a small folded piece of white paper with drops of blood on it, placed in her finger tips. After carefully removing the letter and examining it, it read:

            Dear 'Jim'

You can't hide forever.