by Victor Allen
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In a rural area there was a lot of roadkill. The mashed and bloated corpses of snakes, ‘possums, foxes and raccoons speckled the back roads. Chickens went toes up in the heat, and roving coyotes took down the occasional pig or cow. Deer and other wild animals were plenteous in the woods and, as they reached their best-by date and popped off, circling vultures and the smell of putrescence inspired less than little comment.
Heebie sat in the back seat of the squad car, haltingly directing Reese. He seemed to be going more by sight of landmarks than by any actual set of directions. Just on the off chance that he was doing more than humoring the ravings of a lunatic, Reese had brought a deputy with him.
They were some ten miles away from the last organized township when Heebie started pointing. All about them were forests of scrub pine, barb-wire encircled pastures, and planted fields. Once in a while they would pass a farmer on a tractor, but for the most part, the environment was sterile of human habitation.
“There,” Heebie said, pointing. “She’s in there.” Two pine trees, taller than the others, bracketed a gently arcing, inverted “U” of smaller pine trees that grew between them, the whole thing putting Reese in mind of a giant owl, with the taller pine trees as its ears.
Reese pulled off the road and they all got out. Though only the chief of a one horse town, Reese did have some cop instincts and almost immediately alarms went off. Where he had pulled off was a clear area, just big enough to get a car off the road, but less than ten yards away, the woods thickened up substantially and were almost impenetrable. If he were a killer looking to get rid of a body in a hurry, this little plot could have been no more inviting. There were no obvious signs of human passage through the dense undergrowth just off the road, but brown and black, dried leaves and broken branches stood out like blinking neon signs amidst all the greenery. The limbs could have been- likely had been- broken by passing animals, but, as he peered up and down the road, Reese saw no more broken branches.
“Is this the place,” Reese asked Heebie.
“I think so. We gotta go in there.”
“Lead the way.”
Reese and the deputy followed Heebie into the undergrowth, the deputy carrying a short handled shovel he had retrieved from the cruiser’s trunk. Heebie had insisted they take it right from the grounds-keeper’s shed, tearfully convinced that they would need it. When and if they found anything, Reese would have to question Heebie, but for now he concentrated on pushing the briars and vines out of his way and not stepping on snakes. Somewhere in the distance, he heard the sound of a slowly running creek and he smelled water. And putrescence.
Heebie got there first, loping the last five yards to the mound of detritus-covered dirt thirty yards into the woods. He fell on his knees before the shallow grave and began to claw at it, trying to dig the body out.
“Heebie,” Reese called out. “Get away from there!”
Reese and the deputy pulled Heebie away. Despite his vaunted strength, Heebie didn’t protest. He stood numb, apparently just grateful that he had been proved right.
Where he had partly dug out the grave, Reese saw the semi decomposed face, the dirt-clotted silver of a nose ring. The grave was shallow and just a little more excavating around the foot area revealed an obviously woman’s bare foot and six inches of bare ankle. Reese’s instincts told him that this particular corpse was likely naked at least from the waist down and a pair of balled up jeans would likely be found in the grave. That was as much unearthing as Reese would tolerate without a forensics team. And Heebie had been right. This far into the woods, in the shade, the ground was cold.
Reese stood up, knowing he would, for one of the few times during his current gig, have to do some real police work. The badge on his chest, which he most time didn’t even think of, now felt exactly like what it was: a tin star. He was not so jaded that he didn’t feel a measured sadness for the poor girl in this unmarked grave. He hadn’t been able to save her. He looked at Heebie.
“Heebie, I’m gonna have to cuff ya. You understand? I’m not arresting you, I just need to make sure you’re restrained.”
Heebie nodded. He knew the drill. He’d been a cop, too.
The deputy clamped the shiny steel bracelets on a compliant Heebie and escorted him back to the squad car. The deputy flipped on the revolving beacons and returned to Reese with the yellow crime scene tape. Heebie sat in the back seat of the cruiser, in air conditioned comfort, while the forensics team Reese had radioed finally made their way into the killing ground.