The Blood

by Nancy Jackson

  They wound to the west until they emerged on to the top of the mesa at the park. The trees were all scrub cedar trees that were wind worn from the constant Oklahoma wind. Here and there were a few tall dry tufts of various dead wild grasses.

  The mesa was genuine red sand rock. Most of the natural dirt in Oklahoma was brick red. This mesa was formed out of that same red sand rock.

  From where they stood they could see no footprints or other unusual signs of a struggle or disturbance. Standing on the edge of the mesa, Randy could see a path where the body had tumbled down the side of the cliff as well as the body below.

  “Hey Randy, come here,” called Carrie. “Here are some hoof prints.” Carrie pointed with her gloved finger.

  “Let’s get forensics up here. Hopefully, they can match the prints to a horse should we find one that could have been here,” said Randy.

  “Even if they find a match, it doesn’t necessarily mean they’re from the killer or tied to the murder.”

  “No, but we have so little to go on, we need everything we can get. Maybe we’ll get a break,” Randy said as he texted the lead tech, who was working below, and instructed him what they had found and the location.

  ~~~

  Senna bolted upright from sleep, her heart racing. The nightmare. It was the nightmare that had jolted her out of sleep.

  Trying to regain her composure, she began to breathe steadily again. She swung her legs over the edge of her bed and sat looking at the floor. Her hands gripped the bedclothes at her sides, arms rigid and elbows locked.

  Even though the nightmare was fading, fierce physical trauma remained. There were images she could not reconcile. There were feelings and emotions foreign to her, taunting her and toying with her.

  Then a racking, breathtaking sob wrenched from her body. She missed her Gran so. She needed that love and that acceptance. How could emotion run this deep? How could that need for her, cause such physical pain?

  Senna laid back down and pulled the covers close to her chin as she curled up in a ball. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Damn the rules. Damn the laws. Damn it all if she had to feel so unloved and so broken. The only thing that had ever made her feel loved was Gran and rules had nothing to do with it.

  Yet the turmoil would not leave her. This driving force to comply and to be accepted, void of love, fought against her dire need to feel freely loved.

  Senna wailed from the pain of it all, sobbing herself back to sleep.

  She awoke again mid-morning. It was time to start her day, but the fatigue of the emotional meltdown, and what felt like a lack of sleep caused her to operate in slow motion.

  It was Saturday, and she did not have to work at the library that day. Usually on her days off, she had a long list of productive things she would get done, but today she had no desire or motivation to do so.

  She pulled herself up from her bed and made her way to the sofa. Laying back down, she pulled the afghan over herself, feeling numb. She dozed, but never really rested. At around 11:00 a.m. Andrea called.

  The sound of the phone ringing woke her, and she got up to answer it.

  “Hey there!” greeted Andrea.

  “Hi,” replied Senna.

  “Oh my. Was the date last night that good or that bad?”

  “What do you mean?” Senna asked as she took the cordless phone back to the sofa.

  “Well, you sound awful. I mean...I don’t mean that in a bad way, but you sound so down. Did things not go well?” Andrea was really concerned. She couldn’t remember Senna ever sounding this way.

  Senna’s mind tried to connect with what Andrea was asking. The date. The date with Blake. She had pushed that to the back of her mind after the ordeal of the nightmare and her crying spell that morning.

  “Oh, the date with Blake. It was nice. It was very nice.” Senna smiled as she remembered. It was a nice memory. It was something to hang on to rather than dwell on the darkness that had tried to overtake her early that morning.

  “Whew! That’s awesome. For a minute, I thought it had been a disaster. Are you okay?” asked Andrea with genuine concern.

  “I’m okay. I had a horrible nightmare early this morning, and it wrecked me. It carried so many emotions with it, that I honestly don’t know how to deal with them, or even where they came from.”

  Listening to Senna, Andrea suddenly had an idea, “Hey, what do you say I come over and bring some comfort food and we can hang out today. We can eat, watch movies, and talk.”

  Senna felt immediate resistance to that suggestion. She felt an urge to push Andrea away and to guard herself as if she had secrets to hide.

  “Oh that’s okay. I’ll be fine,” she said, even though she craved the connection.

  “Nonsense. I’m coming over whether you like it or not. That’s what friends do. Plus, I want to hear all about the date!”

  Friends. Andrea considered her a friend. “Okay, I’ll be here,” Senna finally agreed.

  She hung up the phone. Her mind was fraught with conflict as if she had no sense of what was real. She knew she was not normal. She knew she was not right. No matter how many rules she followed, she knew she was broken and she couldn’t pretend anymore.

  But tragically, she had no idea what to do about it. At this point, she didn’t even have the energy to really care. Everything her parents had ever taught her felt like a coat of tight armor that was constricting her and suffocating her. Yet her mind screamed that she must obey all that Father had told her through the years.

  ~~~

  “Hey there,” greeted Andrea, her arms loaded down with grocery sacks full of goodies.

  “What on earth have you got there?” asked Senna. She was dumbfounded that Andrea thought they could eat all that food.

  “Well, you never know in the moment what you will want to eat, so you have to be prepared,” Andrea said. The look on her face confirmed she was quite serious.

  “Oh.” This was a whole new realm for Senna. She had never had girlfriends like other girls did. She had never experienced the closeness of what a friend truly was, but she had longed for it for a very long time.

  “So, first, we’re going to start with these breakfast burritos. They are so good. Packed to the gills with sausage, eggs, peppers, onions and cheese. Mmmmm good! That will give us protein to start and then we can just eat whatever after that,” Andrea said unloading the large paper sack, her head nearly buried inside.

  The burritos were thick, gooey, and yummy. Andrea and Senna dove in and enjoyed every bite. There was something freeing about being with Andrea. Senna felt permission to relax.

  When Senna laid her burrito down after only a few bites Andrea looked at her with wide eyes. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Nothing. I just don’t want to overeat.”

  “Oh darlin’, that is what this day is all about! We're going to eat until we are so stuffed we can’t move! Pick that burrito up and dive back in,” said Andrea as she herself took another huge bite.

  Senna picked up the burrito and looked at it. Andrea wanted her to overeat? She took another bite and tasted the robust flavor of the expertly done burrito. It was good, and she wanted to taste it again and again, so she did.

  Finally, near the end of the burrito Senna laid it down. “Okay, I cannot eat another bite!” She held her hand on her stomach.

  “Now that is what I want to hear. Wasn’t that good?” Andrea had a huge smile on her face. She herself had relished every single bite. “So, lets waddle into the living room and let this digest.”

  They picked up the remnants of the burrito debris, tossed it into the trash and headed for the living room. Senna curled up in an extra-wide upholstered chair and Andrea took the sofa. They were both enjoying the afterglow of eating.

  “Senna, we have known each other for some time now. I hope you know I am truly your friend.”

  There was only silence in the room after Andrea’s statement. Andrea was genuine in her concern for Senna. Through the years she
had seen a young woman, a kind woman, who was in pain. Senna had always treated Andrea with respect, never once did she seem annoyed or at odds with her no matter the situation.

  Silence filled the air for a few more moments. “I know,” Senna responded.

  “Please know I want you to feel close enough to me so you can talk to me. Every single person needs someone to talk to and to share things with. Someone to encourage them and help them through. Someone to laugh and to cry with.

  “I know that you’ve had a tough childhood. I know, not because you have talked about it, but from the pain I have seen in your eyes. Please tell me about it. I am convinced that if you do, if you share it, you will feel better,” Andrea concluded.

  Senna tried to gather her thoughts so she could explain. There was such a jumble in her mind. There were threads of thought running through that even she did not understand, so how could she tell Andrea when she herself couldn’t make sense of it all?

  “My father was very strict,” she finally began. “I grew up on a farm and he worked hard every day to take care of us. Mom worked at home cleaning and taking care of us in her way as well.

  “When something is all you know, you assume that is all there is to know. But growing up and watching other kids at school, I carried a feeling that my life was different.

  “At home there seemed to be only work. When we were together, there was no laughter. My mother always seemed sad and Father was always quiet and even seemed a little angry.”

  Senna took a deep breath and continued. “I enjoyed school, but the other kids didn’t really want to play with me. I know I was quiet, I had learned to be quiet at home, and didn’t know how to interact with the others at school because of that.”

  Andrea listened as Senna continued to tell her how isolated she had felt at home and at school. She talked about the new little girl who came to their school in the third grade and how she and Senna had become friends. But when the little girl had asked her to come over and play one day, her father had put his foot down and said no.

  They had continued to be friends at school, but they grew apart as other girls in the class could go and do things and have fun when Senna couldn’t. Soon other friendships developed and grew stronger for her friend.

  She explained about their church and how strict it was and how she felt it was the driving factor in her father’s behavior.

  “Gosh, Senna,” Andrea quietly commented. “I am so sorry you had to go through that. What about your mom? Was she like that, too?”

  “Mother was sweet. She was always good to me, but she was continually conscious of Father and what he would say or do. I can see now just how afraid of him she really was.”

  “Are your parents still alive?”

  “No, they were older when they had me and my mother passed away when I was eighteen. I had just left home to go to college and, soon after that, Mother became ill and passed away. The doctors said it was some type of infection. They tried to treat it, but they didn’t catch it in time and none of the medicines worked.

  “I was away from home and couldn’t make myself move back to take care of Father even though that was what he wanted. My Gran encouraged me to stay away and keep going to college, and so I did. In less than a year, there was an accident with the tractor and it killed my father.”

  “Wow! I am so sorry!” Andrea sat up and swung her feet around to the floor. She watched Senna. She was not sure when she had felt such compassion for someone.

  “Don’t be. I don’t feel it like I think I should. In my life he was just a man even though he was my father. I always knew I should love him, feel something for him the way I did my mother, but there was nothing there.”

  Senna had also sat up and was resting her forearms on her legs. She looked at a thread she had picked up and was toying with. She was thinking of Gran.

  “What are you thinking about?” asked Andrea after seeing how quiet Senna had gotten.

  “Gran. My sweet Gran,” said Senna, a gentle smile emerged.

  “Tell me about her. She must have been really special.”

  Senna explained about Gran and how much she had loved Senna, and how Senna had loved her. She told her about the first time she had gone to stay with Gran and how it was when she had come home.

  Senna told how each year she was allowed two weeks in the summer to go to Gran’s and how each year she had hated going home more and more.

  She and Gran would write letters and Gran would send cards. As she had gotten older Gran would send her money to buy things she needed, things she could hide from her father.

  Gran was always encouraging. She couldn’t call Gran on the phone because to call her was long distance and there were charges; but Gran would call her when she thought her father would not be around to listen in.

  She explained to Andrea how Father always taught her that the things that Gran and Grandpa had were sinful. That people were to live simply and work hard, wanting nothing beyond the absolute necessities. “He said the Bible taught they were to live a sober life which he believed meant a somber life,” Senna said emphasizing somber.

  “I have always felt so torn,” she looked at Andrea full on. “I wanted so to please Father and Mother, and God, too, but it was so much work and so hard to do. I would never have known there was another way of life if I had not had Gran and been able to go stay with her from time to time.”

  “Where is your Gran now?” Andrea asked.

  A lump rose in Senna’s throat and with husky words she said, “She passed away a year ago.”

  Senna paused and looked back at her hands working the little thread. She was trying to swallow the lump to continue, but it just seemed lodged there.

  Andrea got up from the sofa and came over to where Senna was. She sat beside her, and put her arm around her friend, pulling her close. “I am so very sorry you had to go through all of that.”

  Senna allowed her friend to comfort her. Maybe she was so drawn to Andrea because she was so much like Gran. Having her head on Andrea’s shoulder reminded her of all the times she’d had her head on Gran’s shoulder.

  Finally, Senna raised her head and wiped her tears. “Thank you.”

  “Senna, your father was wrong and your Gran was right. Life is meant to be lived and enjoyed. There is nothing sinful about enjoying all the wonderful things provided for us in this life.”

  Senna nodded. “After I left home, I was free to see Gran more. She paid for my college and bought me a car. She would buy me some clothes and shoes and things, but I was never comfortable in living that lifestyle, no matter how hard I tried.

  “For some reason, I have never been able to walk away from what father taught me. No matter how much love I felt from Gran and how much I enjoyed all the wonderful things she bought and did for me, I have always felt down deep inside that to be accepted, I had to live the way Father and Mother did.”

  Senna then looked at Andrea and smiled. “But I am trying to. I want to change. It all just feels so embedded into my DNA.”

  After a few moments Andrea breathed deep and let it out as she stood up. “Ice cream. We need ice cream,” she declared as she disappeared into the kitchen.

  Two bowls and spoons clattered onto the counter as the freezer door opened. “I cannot believe you,” said Senna. “It’s the middle of the day and I am still stuffed from that breakfast you made me eat.”

  As Senna entered the kitchen, Andrea said, “Ice cream is not food when it is used for comfort. Then it is medicine and is necessary. It will melt in your mouth and just fill all the little cracks and crannies around the burrito,” she said. The certainty of her words made Senna chuckle.

  While eating the ice cream, they left weightier topics behind and laughed at stories Andrea told of growing up with her two brothers. In time, Senna thought, she might be able to leave all the pain behind, too, and live life, really live it.

  Chapter Seven

  Even though it was Sunday, Carrie was in her office at the
OSBI headquarters in Oklahoma City. Calling it an office was a stretch. It was really just a glorified cubicle.

  The lines on the legal pad in front of her called to her to pour out her thoughts on them. It had always helped her to write out threads of thoughts on paper. There was something about writing a thought down that spurred one after another and usually when done, there was an entire page or more of avenues to explore further.

  There was the white board they used, which contained both Justin’s and Keith’s pictures with facts of the case written on it, but Carrie liked to jot down ‘what ifs’ on a sheet of paper where she could scribble and mark through things, to see if ideas would take form or had substance.

  But today her page was blank. The Kachina murders had provided so little evidence and the theories were endless. Having so little to go on at this stage gave Carrie pause over her paper.

  Motive was foremost on her mind. Why on earth would someone want to kill these two young men? Had they seen something they shouldn’t have? Were they into something like drugs or some other nefarious business on the side? A love triangle or something to do with jealousy didn’t seem to fit, there was no passion in the killings the way jealousy emerges.

  She drew a line down the center of a new page. At the top of one side she wrote, ‘saw something’ and at the top of the other she wrote, ‘did something’.

  Then she just wrote down thoughts as quickly as they came to her, under the topic where they fit. When she did, she didn’t over-think each thought. She would just be quick about it before she could discard it with reason or doubt.

  When she had nothing left to write, she sat back and looked at the two columns. Now it was time to use logic to eliminate the impossible.

  Under column one, SAW SOMETHING, she had written:

  1) saw a theft

  2) saw an affair

  3) saw a drug deal

  4) saw a crime

  Under the second column, DID SOMETHING, she had written the following:

  1) were taking drugs

  2) were stealing

  3) were partners in a crime