Murders on the Edge

by Andie Alexander

The woman pointed. I ran to the door, where a big three was painted in white. I knocked. “Do you need help?”

  I heard crying, so I opened the door, with Jim right behind me.

  There, lying on the bed was a woman dressed in a sheep outfit. A naked guy was sprawled out on top of her. His eyes were closed and he looked dead.

  Jim ran to his side and felt for a pulse. He pulled the guy to the floor and started performing CPR on him.

  “Tell me what to do?” I said, watching him work.

  “Cover this guy and breathe for him.”

  I grabbed a blanket and covered him, and then took over the breathing part. After about five minutes, Jim stopped, felt for a pulse, and shook his head. “What a way to die.”

  The woman was sitting on the bed, just watching. “He’s dead?”

  “Yeah.” Jim looked up. “Do you know his name?”

  “That’s Sheriff Tucker. If his wife finds out he was here…” She covered her mouth. “I’m in big trouble.” Tears filled her eyes.

  Jim stood up. “Let’s get him downstairs. Does he have any clothes?”

  “Sure.” She pointed to a pile of clothes in the corner, so Jim and I dressed the guy.

  While we did, I talked to the woman, trying to ignore the sheep outfit with the ears on her head. “What’s your name?”

  “Bambi.”

  Shoot me now. At least she wasn’t in a deer outfit.

  Chapter 11

  Bambi continued. “I don’t know what happened. He wanted me to baa, so I did. The next thing I know, he’s on top of me and not moving. I thought he fell asleep, but he didn’t answer me when I talked to him.”

  “Did he have a heart condition?” Jim asked.

  “Nope. He was fit as a fiddle. He told me he just had a physical on Thursday, with Doc Barr. He wanted to get it in before the doctor quit yesterday.”

  “I’m the new doctor.” Jim turned to address me. “Go downstairs and get me some help taking his body down to the morgue. I want to perform an autopsy on this guy and find out why he died.”

  I ran down the stairs and addressed the men still in line. “I need help upstairs.”

  All the men ran toward me, and I stopped them with my hands. “No. I need only about four men to help the doctor.”

  They all turned, dejected, and got back in line. I now had no one helping me.

  “I still need four men and they’ll go to the front of the line.”

  Four men got to me, standing at the front of the line, before everyone else. I took them up the stairs, sending the rest back downstairs to wait, and directed them to room three. The sheriff was lying on the bed, looking very peaceful.

  “Jim, they’re all yours.”

  He looked at all four of the men. “We need to carry this body downstairs, and no one saw him up here.”

  They all nodded.

  “The sheriff is dead?” one man asked.

  “Yes, but that’s a secret,” Jim said. “Got that?”

  They all nodded again and I walked back down the stairs. They carried the sheriff past the waiting men, and Jim took them into the back room. The four men returned to the front of the line, and I proceeded, as usual, to assign them room numbers.

  After about an hour, Jim approached me. “I need the owner’s phone number.”

  “Mr. Moody?”

  “Yep.”

  “Good luck. He has a high voice, so try not to laugh.” I searched through the desk and found his number, giving it to Jim. He walked away and I continued to work, watching out the window. A free-for-all was happening out there, making me glad I wasn’t in my rented room at the B&B. Naked bodies ran past the windows, hooting and hollering filled the air, and firecrackers spun out of control, right near the building, making horrible squeals and bangs.

  My head was throbbing, but I kept wondering what was making these otherwise normal people go nuts at dark. They seemed fine during the day, but by nighttime, they lost all their inhibitions and drank beyond control.

  After a long time, Jim walked up behind me. “Jane, I need your help.”

  “But the desk?”

  “Mr. Moody said to let it go.” He looked up at the line, grabbed a guy at random, and pulled him to the desk. “Take over, and when it’s your turn, get someone else to work. Jane’s done for the night.”

  “Fine with me,” the guy said. “I can control who I get this way.”

  Jim took me into the back room then through another door and into a room filled with metal appliances and countertops. The dead guy lay naked on a metal table in the middle of the room, his chest open wide and all his organs exposed.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “I called his wife and asked her permission. She wasn’t that upset, but said go ahead and slice him up good, because she knew where he was.”

  “I understand.” I lifted my hand to my nose, because even though he hadn’t been dead for long, it didn’t smell that great in there.

  After we both donned protective clothing and masks, Jim grabbed a jar and dabbed some jelly-type of substance under my nose, smelling like very strong menthol. “This will help take away the smell. The stench is from the room and the formaldehyde, mostly, because they do the autopsies on the dead people back here.”

  “Are you allowed to do the autopsy?”

  “Yes. Along with my training in pathology after I joined the CIA, I have permission from the local guy, who is in Las Cruces. He said he and the old doctor have done so many here, that he’d be interested if I found anything other than a heart attack. Every person who’s died here in the past month has died of a heart attack, even a young child. Heart attack in every case.”

  “That’s not normal, is it?” I asked.

  “Not even close to normal. I need your help, though. I want to pull this guy’s heart out and look at it closer. I have fluids ready for the national lab, but his heart looks funny to me.”

  “Funny. Not ha-ha funny either, right?”

  “Nope.” He took me to the side of the body. I looked down at the guy’s organs, opened right up for me to see.

  “I have no idea what these things are,” I said. “Does everything look normal?”

  “He had high cholesterol and a partially blocked artery, but nothing unusual that would cause a massive heart attack like this. He was fifty-seven.”

  I looked at the guy’s face in confusion. “No way. He looks about thirty.”

  “Yep. That’s why I want to look at his heart. For fifty-seven, he’s in great shape.”

  “How do you know he’s fifty-seven?”

  He grabbed the guy’s wallet and opened it to his license. I looked closely and, in the picture, he looked a little bit older, but it was definitely the same guy. “Did you check fingerprints?”

  “You know, you’re right. I bet his fingerprints are in the database, since he was law enforcement.” He went through the cabinets. “There has to be ink in here somewhere.”

  I watched the body, making sure it wasn’t coming back to life. I knew it was impossible, but after that lady played a joke on me and grabbed my hand, I trusted no one, dead or alive.

  Jim found some ink and took Sheriff Tucker’s fingerprints. He slipped them into a small plastic bag and shoved it into his pocket. After that, he put a few vials in a box and closed it up.

  “So what do you need me for, anyway?” I asked.

  “A witness, unless you want to help me.”

  I waved him off and took a step backward. “I think I’ll pass.” For some reason, my head was starting to swim, feeling like I had a medicine head. It was probably a reaction to my hand.

  With his gloves still on his hands, Jim reached in and lifted out Sheriff Tucker’s heart. He weighed it and then dissected it. I moved to a chair on the other side of the room and watched from a distance.

  “Amazing,” Jim said.

  “What?”

  “He has the heart of a fifty-seven year old man, at least. There’s fatty tissue and deteriorati
on.” He looked up at the man’s face. “But he looks thirty. I think it’s time to shut the town down.”

  “For a man who doesn’t look his age?”

  “Yeah, that doesn’t make sense.” He put the man’s heart back in his chest and closed him up. “I’m done with this.” With my help, Jim wheeled Sheriff Tucker into the other room and put him in a refrigerated body drawer. We then cleaned the autopsy room together. After we finished, we both washed our hands and faces, to get the menthol off our noses. I knew I’d smell that stuff for weeks.

  “You’re not staying at the bed and breakfast,” Jim said as we walked into the main room.

  The man sitting in my old spot at the desk was different than the man we’d assigned, but it was orderly.

  “You’re going home with me,” Jim said. “I won’t sleep tonight, knowing they’re setting off fireworks right near your room.”

  “But I paid for that room for a week.”

  “Yep. I’m going to send some men up there to scout it out tonight. It’s a perfect vantage place.”

  “I’m not allowed to have men up there.”

  “I’ll dress them like women. Would that work for you?”

  “Only if it’s Chris.”

  He paused for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right. He doesn’t have the legs to pull it off.”

  I chuckled and he led me outside to his car…or what was left of it, parked on the street.

  “My car?” he said. The tires were sliced and it looked like someone had thrown a cement block on the hood. The back was rammed, and no longer was it a hot sports car, but looked like a piece of red junk, falling apart. “Who did this to my car and why?”

  I looked around at the maniacs running through the street, hooting and hollering. “I don’t think you’ll get an answer.”

  “Fine.” He took my hand, and dodging the partiers, went into the bed and breakfast with me. He approached the front desk, where Maybelle still sat, reading her paper.

  “Ma’am,” Jim said. “I need to get her luggage. This is no place for her to stay. No one can get any sleep around here.”

  “Suit yourself but I have to charge for the time you were here.” She reached into the cash register and handed me back four hundred and fifty dollars. “I have people waiting for that room.” She stood up, walked to the door, and yelled outside. “Anyone want a room?”

  Six people ran inside, all lining up at the front desk. Jim and I headed up the stairs, grabbed my things, and repacked them into the suitcases. He called Chris, who drove up to the front of the bed and breakfast, and helped me put my things into the trunk. As we headed down the road, I couldn’t be happier to leave the weirdness of downtown Señora Bonita.

  Chapter 12

  Just as we got past the partiers, a group of men, who were dressed in black, walked along the side of the road. I stared at them, trying to figure out what they’d be doing outside the city at this time of the evening.

  “That was weird,” I said. “That one guy had very dark eyes. Did you see him?”

  “No.” Jim looked through his phone directory on his cell phone. “I know I have Kent’s number here somewhere.”

  “Kent? My old boss?”

  “Yeah. He was promoted last week to assistant director.” He pressed a button and waited for a moment. “Kent, this is Jim Bond. I hate waking you…” He chuckled as he listened. “Thank you. She’s with us.” He glanced back at me. “Well, we need a sheriff replacement for this tiny town, because it seems the sheriff died while with a prostitute.” He chuckled again. “Yep. We were thinking we could get someone in here from higher up, because they might have more clout. There’s definitely something weird going on here, and it might be chemical.” He looked up. “No one?”

  “Great.” I fell to the back of the seat.

  “Archie? Are you sure you want him in that role?” He glanced over at Chris. “Yes, sir. We’ll have him hired tomorrow, somehow. Should it be a direct hire from the state?”

  “How do you do that?” I asked.

  Jim shot me a dirty look. “Yes sir. Just call and we’ll set it all up. I think the doctor’s in business tomorrow and I’ll be taking extra specimens to figure this out. Also, has the state department of health or the CDC been notified about this place?” He said a lot of ‘uh-huhs’ and ‘nopes,’ then shook his head. “Got it. It’s a problem between agencies. So it’s up to us, and we have no help at the present unless we prove it one way or the other.”

  Chris glanced over at Jim. “Up to us? There aren’t that many of us. Get us help.”

  Jim nodded, still on the phone. “We need help here. We’re playing roles, but we’re not covered. If one of us gets this sickness, or whatever it is, we’re in trouble.” He nodded. “Good idea. Thanks.” He said goodbye and ended his call. “He’s sending two more in, but they’re tight on agents right now. It seems there’s a problem down in Nogales again.”

  “Again?” Chris asked.

  “Yep. A whole bunch of illegals have descended on the town, and they have another problem up near Vancouver with more illegals. They’re not Hispanic, either. And there are other potentials across the nation that they’re worried about.”

  “I’m glad we’re here,” Chris said. “I guess we’re on our own.”

  “Yep.” Jim turned his head toward me, talking over his shoulder. “Congratulations on your wedding from Kent.”

  “It was your wedding, too.”

  “Yeah, I know, but Kent wanted you to hear the congratulations. He hasn’t talked to you in a long time.”

  “I was in the office for six months, held hostage while being tutored twenty hours a day. All he had to do was call or stop in, considering I couldn’t get out.”

  “He was cleaning up the mess in New York.” Jim turned to Chris and I tuned him out. I knew the real reason he didn’t stop in. Kent blamed me for getting myself kidnapped in New York and for creating the mess I didn’t create. He and I had a big argument after I was almost killed at the hospital, and he had to leave because of a phone call. He never returned. I was sure he’d put something nasty in my file, but apparently not. I didn’t think I’d ever hear from him again, however, it sounded like he was now the next-to-top dog.

  My head started to feel funny again, but I tried to ignore it. I was seeing colors more vibrant than ever, and started to think about various sexual positions. It was intriguing, and I was sure it was because of my job at the morgue.

  “What do you think, Harley,” Chris asked.

  “About what?”

  “Weren’t you listening?”

  “Nope. I was looking at the sights.” And what sights they were. Images kind of blended with images, making me wonder what was in the stuff Jim had put under my nose.

  “In the dark?” Jim asked.

  “Yep. It’s so peaceful in the country.” And colorful in the dark.

  “We’re thinking of making a plan for Monday,” Chris said. “I’ll be working with you, digging graves. I hate manual labor.” He groaned. “Anyway, Archie will be the sheriff, and Jim will be the doctor. Jordan…what is Jordan doing?”

  Chris pulled into the driveway for the house and doctor’s office.

  “He’s going to find Tilvin and his surfer dude buddies,” Jim said. “I’m going to have him take food and air samples. I’m also going to have him dig deeper where the sheriff was digging. Something is probably there, but the sheriff didn’t find it.”

  We got out of the car. “I’ll call Pearl and talk to her,” I said. “But I need wheels.”

  “So do I.” Jim wrapped his arm around my waist. “I can’t believe they destroyed my car.”

  “Time for a family car anyway.” I looked up at his face. The colors just swirled together while my head felt so peaceful.

  “You’re both nuts.” Chris chuckled. “There are only four bedrooms in this house. Can you two room together?”

  I smiled up at Jim’s face, but he looked confused. He was so adorable, with pink hair an
d a green nose.

  “Probably,” he said, still studying my face. “But if we’re dating, would we be sleeping together?”

  I leaned up and gave him a kiss. “I work fast.”

  “Yeah. It only took six months to get you to the altar, too.” We entered the house, where Archie and Jordan were talking.

  But I didn’t care about their conversation, because colors swirled all around the room. It was so interesting.

  “I don’t think you get this,” Archie said to Jordan. “They didn’t look normal to me.”

  “Who didn’t?” Jim asked.

  “These guys came to the door tonight, asking if anyone here was ‘infected,’ whatever that meant.”

  “Infected,” Chris said. “With what?”

  “I have no idea.” He opened his hand, showing a vial of some liquid. “If anyone was showing any sort of illness, they were to take this.”

  Jim grabbed the vial and held it up to the light. “It looks like water.”

  Not to me. It looked blue and purple. Yum. Blue and purple water.

  I mentally shook myself, wondering if I’d been infected. “Want me to try it out?”

  “No,” Jim said, staring at me. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure.” I sat at the table. “Better than okay.” The colors were so interesting that I couldn’t imagine life without them.

  “What did these guys look like?” Chris asked.

  Archie glanced at the front door. “Guys dressed in black. They weren’t here that long ago. Did you see them?”

  “I’m not sure if they’re the same guys, but we saw someone,” Chris said. “Did you ask for names?”

  Archie shook his head. “It was odd, because they looked like they were druggies or something with weird eyes. If I’d have asked for names, it would’ve tipped my hand that I was a Fed.”

  Something was definitely going on in this town, and those guys dressed in black knew more than anyone else. I was ready to hunt them down myself, just to see the colors in the night again. They seemed to be heightened against the dark night.

  I turned to Jim. “Want to go hunting for them tonight? I’m game.”

  He checked his watch. “But it’s eleven at night.”