by David Clark
The first word anyone said was when they arrived at the first body, and then all that was spoken was the question, “and the other one?” Jordan led them to it. All three detectives walked a quick circle around each body, before two of them walked back to Jordan and asked, “Come with us.” They led him out of the woods while the other stayed behind.
Two medical examiners in jumpsuits that covered them from head to foot passed him on the way into the woods carrying what he knew were two body bags, and their tools of the trade. The scene was theirs now.
He rejoined Megan at the car with the others, and the two detectives followed. Jordan struggled to remember their names. He remembered the names, but didn’t remember which was which, so he covered by saying, “Megan, this is Detectives Kendal and Smith. Detectives, this is Megan Tolliver, my girlfriend.” The word escaped before he knew it. For a brief moment, he wondered if that slip might be the costliest of the entire day. Based on the look on Megan’s face, it shocked her too.
“Nice to meet you,” the detective with the lighter colored hair said. His attention focused on Jordan, and his partner was focused on Megan. Jordan noticed and thought this might be how they worked with interviewing witnesses. “So, can you tell me how you found the bodies?”
Well, there was nothing like cutting straight to the point, and that point jabbed through Jordan’s head like a red hot fire poker. He didn’t have an answer that wouldn’t create problems. “I was called to check out Sharon Carter’s autopsy, and I got curious and came up on my day off to have a look.” Jordan braced himself for the follow-up questions, as he reached into his pocket and produced his badge. This might be the last time he pulled it out. In his mind he was already fired and seated in the back seat of one of the detective's cars next to Megan.
“Called in for what?”, the detective asked as he took Jordan’s badge and gave it a once over before passing it to his partner. His attention diverted from Megan for only a moment to look at the badge, and then it was back on Megan.
“The local coroner called in for assistance from someone with my expertise. Just a consultation,” Jordan said, trying to sound as confident as possible while inside he hoped and prayed that they accepted his statement at face value, and not ask about his expertise. In truth, having the agency consulted on a case was not that uncommon, especially when it came to forensics or an autopsy.
“Couldn’t let it go without answering some questions?”, the detective asked. He handed Jordan back his badge.
Inside, Jordan jumped for joy. They accepted his story and him, and decided to strengthen the thin blue line just a little more, “Nope. Too many questions that ate at me.”
“Been there, it’s the worst,” he said while he pulled out a notepad. The nerves in Jordan’s gut that had relaxed now retightened and added an extra twist. The questions he thought he had just avoided were now about to start. “My wife still won’t let me forget how I called in an idea to my chief from our honeymoon. A curse of the job. So, I just have a few questions, if that is okay?”
“Of course,” responded Jordan. He stood next to Megan by the trunk of their car, but in his mind, he was standing in the unemployment line, which was at least an upgrade from where his fears had been moments earlier.
The detective took his sunglasses off and looked over at Megan. There was concern on her face, as her head shook up and down like a bobblehead.
“You didn’t touch anything, right?”, he asked. “I need to ask. I know you know better.”
“Of course not.” Jordan looked at Megan. Her head shook back and forth, her eyes were fixed and stared straight at the detective. He had seen that look a few times before. Not from Megan, but others on the other side of a table in an interrogation room.
“Good. Now what led you guys to the others? Was it anything specific?” The notepad dropped to his waist. “You know we had probably twenty guys in there canvasing the area of any evidence and we never found them.”
Sure, detective. The ghost of Sharon Carter entered my girlfriend and told her where to find them. I just followed. A nervous laugh almost escaped from Jordan as he thought how that might go over. “We were just lucky. We just roamed around for a few minutes. It didn’t take us long. Once we found one, the other was close by.”
“Maybe we should have looked a little longer,” spoke the one that had stood in silence since he arrived. He was either Detective Kendal or Detective Smith. Jordan still wasn’t sure who was who yet, but he was sure the man was from New York. Brooklyn, to be exact. There was no mistaking that accent.
“I know you,” he said. A meaty finger pointed straight at Megan. Jordan shuffled slightly to the side to place himself in between Megan and Detective pointy.
“I do,” he studied her closely and then asked, “It is you, isn’t it?” The odor of stale coffee and donuts followed every word. The man removed his sunglasses. Jordan expected to see anger or intensity in his eyes based on the other body language, but saw the opposite.
“You’re America’s Medium. I should have recognized the name when Agent Blake introduced you. The wife and I are big fans. We watch every episode, and wait,” he turned his attention to Jordan. “And you,” the meaty finger pointed again, almost contacting Jordan in the chest. “You are that agent, that paranormal specialist that works for the FBI. I’ve seen you on her show before. Interesting.”
“Wow, I didn’t know we had us a couple of celebrities,” the original questioning detective said.
His partner had taken out his pad and handed it along with a pen to Megan. She took both reluctantly at first, but then Jordan saw the transformation he had seen many times. The spotlight was on, and the star was out. “Can I bother you for an autograph?”
“Of course you can. Who should I make it out to?”
“Shirley and Andrew Kendal.”
Well, that answered who was who for Jordan. It also cut all the tension out of the moment as he watched the aggressive body language in both detectives melt away. Too bad it was nothing he had done.
Megan finished the autographs for Kendal and then Agent Smith hit her up. Both asked for pictures with her to prove they had met her. Jordan looked on at the scene as one at a time, each detective lined up for the perfect selfie with Megan and her two new friends. For a brief moment, he wondered what would happen if this were one of these moments ghosts appeared in pictures. That would be a real treat for them. A picture of them, with America’s Medium, and the ghosts of the two women whose murders they were investigating.
The only official written record created from Jordan and Megan’s visit to the crime scene was the contact card that Detective Kevin Smith filled out on each of them with their name, addresses, driver’s license numbers, phone numbers, and in Jordan’s instance his badge number. It was a required item since they placed a 911 call. While they did that, both Detective Smith and Kendal told Jordan a few more stories about cases they couldn’t let go and either kept looking into long after it was closed, or went out on their personal time to look into. It was the most bonding he had felt with anyone in law enforcement since he joined the agency.
“That didn’t go too badly,” Megan said with a quick jab to Jordan’s side from the passenger seat of their car. He reached down and turned the key to start. It hadn’t gone as bad as it could have, but that didn’t mean he wanted to stick around, and he quickly pulled off with a bigger mystery than they had before.
19
Jordan pulled away, leaving the detectives of the Richmond police department and coroner’s office behind. They dodged a big one, and the little voice in his head kept telling him, Keep driving. There is nothing more you can do. There was some validity in that advice, but the motions of wanting to help Sharon, and now her other two mystery friends made a hard argument the other way. A glance over at his passenger’s seat found Megan deep in thought. Jordan knew her well enough to know her thoughts weren’t about heading home and leaving this alone. She was already working on the next several m
oves. Which was good, Jordan’s brain had hit a roadblock after finding two more bodies. He needed to step back and look at all the details, and more importantly, the open questions. What he wouldn’t give to have another chance to ask questions, but going back to that crime scene was out of the question. Now he only saw it in their rearview mirror, which he glanced at one last time.
“Shit!”, exclaimed Jordan. The car swerved a bit, causing an alarmed look from Megan. He got it under control before he took another careful and cautious look in the mirror. What he saw was there again. It still startled him, but this time he was ready for it. “What? How?” He stuttered, and finally got out an intelligible question, “where did she come from?” He asked referring to the ghost of the third young woman who was now sitting in the back seat with Sharon and the blonde they found in the woods. He was also surprised he didn’t feel her arrival. It had been a long time since the presence of a spirit shocked or surprised Jordan. It could only be that all the emotions and nerves of what he just went through, or the presence of the first two, had masked the typical unnerved feeling of someone else there.
“Relax. They are following me,” Megan said calmly. As if three ghosts riding in the backseat of their car was an everyday occurrence.
Jordan let out a big exhale after another look in the rearview mirror and then watched for a place to pull over and talk through what the next move for them was. Thanks to their three visitors, any hope that may have existed of following the urges of that voice in his head to go home was now gone. He doubted they were there for the long drive to Savannah. A road sign offered him an option, and he followed the signs to the Virginia War Memorial Carillion in the middle of William Byrd Park. He rode around and in front of the huge bell tower, and around to the gravel filled parking area for the Dogwood Dell Amphitheatre. He drove around for a few seconds, letting the gravel pop against his tires, while he looked for a spot to park. After what they just left, he didn’t feel like sitting under the shade of a lot of trees.
“Now what?”, he asked.
“Give us a minute. Girl talk,” responded Megan. She turned as far as the bucket of her seat would let her and looked backwards. Her mouth didn’t move, but the mouths of their three guests were moving and if you ignored their translucent glow, you would see the twenty somethings talking about clothes, boys, or whatever else they might be chatting about.
At first Jordan watched the conversation, but noticed several glances in his direction through the side of their eyes. They could be talking about him, and he wouldn’t even know it. This was way beyond him and his abilities. He almost chuckled when the thought hit him that Megan was the true expert, not him. Not out of disrespect, or even humor. Privately, Jordan had questioned her ability more than once, and wasn’t sure if it even existed, or if she was just a great personality that could capture your attention while pulling the same confidence scheme he had seen time after time by television mediums. Now it was crystal clear to him. She truly had an ability. One he didn’t possess. In fact, one might look at it as she had what he didn’t. She completed him. It was that thought that made him chuckle, while he watched the silent conversation continue.
There was another part to Megan completing his realization that contributed to the chuckle. She was everything he wasn’t. Megan was outgoing, he was shy and introverted. Emotions, crystals, and astrological signs drove most of her decisions. He was planned out and calculated. Risk wasn’t a word in Megan’s vocabulary. Concerns about it ran Jordan’s life. There are experiences he had enjoyed in his life, that he would have never had the opportunity to without her. Maybe that was why he always let her back in, no matter what had happened. The universe had created them as mirror images that fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Only together were they complete. The fact that Jordan even considered the universe’s plan for them showed her influence on him. That was what made him chuckle.
Megan reached over and touched his hand with hers, while her focus was still on the back of the car. He looked up again, and the conversation was still going on, but much slower this time. Sharon and the first blonde they found appeared to be listening to the other while nodding their heads. If Jordan had to guess, she was telling her story, and it matched details from Sharon and the first girl they found. When she stopped, Megan turned back around into her seat and sat for a minute in thought. Her hand let go of Jordan’s.
“Jennifer Tate is still out there,” Megan said under her breath.
“What?”, Jordan asked. He barely heard what she said, as it wasn’t even a whisper.
“The numbers, the girls,” Megan started, but stopped. Her hand reached up and rubbed her eyes and then ran through her hair. Her head leaned back against the headrest. “We have to go back.” It was a statement, but one made in a tone that told her she already knew there would be an objection.
“Uh uh. No way. We got lucky they took things at face value. If we go back now, or even later, and are caught or seen there, it will be different. I know it. Hell, I wouldn’t have let us off without a few hours of questioning.”
“We don’t have anything to hide,” Megan said. Her head tilted toward him, where he could see her big brown eyes.
“No, we don’t, but you and I both know they won’t believe the truth. Would you?” Jordan asked.
“Yes—-”
“Before you answer that,” interrupted Jordan. “Remove who we are from the picture. We live this life. This is normal for us. To anyone else, would hearing that we broke into a crime scene to talk to the ghost of a victim and then come out to where her body was found to talk to her again, only to be led by her to two other bodies sound normal? To me it would sound like someone delusional, or trying to fabricate some hell of a story to explain why their prints are all over the victim’s house and seemed to know exactly where the bodies were.”
Megan sunk into her seat. “But we have to do something,” she said, resigned. “We found Beth and Maria. Jennifer is still out there.”
“Who?”, Jordan asked. He glanced up in the mirror and watched Sharon point to the blonde who sat on the middle of the bench in the back of the car. She mouthed “Beth”, and then pointed to the girl beside her, and mouthed “Maria.” He saw her green eyes and remembered. The missing girls associated to the phone numbers that Megan looked up. “Crap, I get it.” It was his turn to sink into his seat.
“They all have a similar story to Sharon. All were law students at the University of Richmond. Each approached with a proposition to help pay for it. I want you to know these are not bad girls.”
“I never thought they were,” said Jordan reassuringly. He looked up in the mirror to make sure they could see his face. He meant it. At no time had he judged them or their decisions. Everyone makes mistakes, but there was no mistake worth dying for.
“I didn’t think you did, but you need to know they didn’t agree to this life from the start. At first it started as simple things. Serving drinks at a party of local leaders. Everyone from the mayor, state’s attorney, and even a few state congressmen and yes, a senator attended. They were told the connections they could make would be beneficial to their future, but it never worked out that way. They were just hired help and not allowed to talk to anyone. Before they knew it, they were in too deep and couldn’t get out. They owed a sum of money that none of them could pay back and had to continue working to avoid... collection activities.” Megan’s voice trailed off, letting the concern linger.
“They were threatened,” assumed Jordan. “I am guessing with violence.”
“Maria had been beat a few times. Never to the face, they needed that to look nice, but in areas that never showed.”
Damn it.
This tugged at Jordan’s heart. These were nice girls pulled into the underbelly of society, all because they wanted to better themselves. Each probably pursued the law degree with the same lofty and wide-eyed dream he had when he applied to become an agent. To change the world and help people. Instead, they became like thos
e they meant to help.
“Did they see who did this to them?”
Megan shook her head. “Each was asleep when men wearing black hoods grabbed them and then shoved a black hood over their face and wrapped what they believe to be tape around them. Maria said she got a few screams out and a punch in, but that was it. Then they were shoved into a cloth bag and carried out of their house. After that, the story is the same for all three girls. Someone reached in and grabbed their arm. They felt the prick of a needle, and that was it.”
Professionals. This realization added to the concern that grew inside the pit of Jordan’s stomach.
20
“Okay, Let’s go over this again,” Jordan asked as he paced back in forth in the room to clear his mind. Their room now had three visitors which, much to his surprise, acted rather alive. Megan sat in one chair. Across the table from her was Sharon. Her hand attempting to fiddle with the cell phone inside the baggie. Marie sat on the bed, watching him intently. Beth was beside her, but appeared comfortable, laid back and stretched out on the bed. It all appeared rather natural. The only reminder of who they really were was the coldness he felt when he came too close to one of them.
“Three girls. All three are law students at the University of Richmond. All three were approached with an opportunity to help pay their tuition.” Jordan spun around to face the two on the bed. “They approached you, correct? You didn’t respond to some online ad or offer, correct?”
Both answered with a shake of their head. “No, they were approached out of the blue. Sharon was too,” answered Megan, who gave him an annoying smile. She had now made the same realization he had in the car. This was more her area than his now.
“Okay, the person who approached you. Was it the same for all three, and would you be able to recognize them?” Jordan continued to pace, his focus on the floor in front of his next step. Partially in thought, the other part working to avoid the cold spots. It took three laps back and forth on the rug before the answer came. It was just in time too; Jordan was about to stop and re-ask the question.