The Dark Places

by R. S. Whitfield

  “As I’ll ever be,” he replied, and they walked into the grid together.

  ***

  The first thing Surin noticed was the ground. The grass was still wet with early morning dew, no footprints, no drag marks and no blood.

  “Killed elsewhere and dumped,” she said, talking to herself as Parker scribbled in his notepad.

  “Parker, that rookie, Miller I think his name was, get his badge number. He has a good eye, and I want him on this case.” Surin walked a little closer and stopped, her hands on her hips.

  “A good eye for what?” Parker asked casually, trying not to look into the dead eyes of the victim.

  “Are you kidding?” Surin responded, turning to him. “No footprints, no cigarette butts, no nothing. A perfectly preserved area. He knew well enough not to approach the body and maintained the integrity of the crime scene. Usually there would be a hundred rookie shoeprints, vomit, scuff marks, they often make it impossible for us to do our job, but not this kid.” She smiled despite the grim setting. “He has brains, and I don’t want that to go unnoticed.”

  Parker smiled and shook his head. She was incredible.

  “What?” she asked, noticing his gaze, the level of her voice rising a notch.

  “Nothing,” he replied smiling, enjoying her annoyance. “Tell me what you see.”

  Surin turned from him. “Not yet, there is one person I need to speak to first.” She rotated a full three-sixty, trying to navigate through the sea of uniforms. “Where the hell is Vector?”

  “My favourite and most annoying detective,” Vector called out from afar. He was surrounded by crime scene techs snapping pics of the victim. “Step right this way.” He gestured closer to the body.

  Surin and Parker approached cautiously.

  “Rhodes, Elliott, how’s things?” he asked casually. Surin shrugged. “Can’t believe you stuck with her this long!” Vector laughed loudly and slapped Parker on the back. “She’s a handful,” he continued, nudging Surin in the ribs. She grimaced and brushed his comments off.

  “Vector, can we focus?” she countered, shifting the topic to the present.

  “Of course, right, what I can tell you is this girl suffered. A lot.”

  He took a slow breath and put his hands on his hips, looking up at them both.

  “I can’t tell you much until I get her back to the office, but I can tell you she was sexually assaulted, tortured, strangled and most certainly dumped here. What I can’t tell you is how she died because I don’t know yet.”

  “How long?” Surin asked quietly, always amazed at what one human could do to another.

  “Ten hours give or take,” he replied, making a so-so motion with his hand.

  “OK,” Surin said, “we’ll see you at the autopsy.” She looked at Parker and nodded.

  “I’ll do her first thing after lunch,” Vector added. “See you both then”. He walked away, slipping under the yellow tape, and headed towards his white sedan. Surin watched him stumble up the hill, his short, stumpy frame slipping on the loose stones.

  She had met Vector her first year on the job. He was processing a scene where she had been the first responder. Her first body and she was the fresh-faced rookie, green as they come. She had been following him around with a notebook and pen, asking what must have been hundreds of questions until a detective came over to put her back in her place.

  “Sorry about the newbie, Doc,” he had said, snatching the book out of Surin’s hands. “Some women don’t know where they belong.” He followed the comment with a snort and a laugh.

  “Rookie, get your small ass back over there with the other uniforms and try not to contaminate anything,” he yelled, raising his hand to point back over to the front of the building where a small crowd was gathering.

  “Sorry, sir,” she mumbled, trying to control the rage that was bubbling inside her, but as she went to leave, a gentle hand touched her shoulder and turned her back around.

  “Detective Covoner, is it?” Vector had asked.

  “Yes?” the burly detective replied, squaring off his shoulders.

  “This rookie, Elliott, I need her here for the moment.” He turned to continue processing the scene. Surin had looked at the detective, mouth open and shrunk under his gaze.

  “What the fuck for?” the detective replied, perplexed.

  Vector smiled at the man. “She has asked more probing and intelligent questions in the last five minutes than you and your partner over there have asked in the last five years,” he stated matter-of-factly.

  The detective’s face began turning a dangerous shade of red, but Vector continued.

  “I play golf with your chief on Tuesdays, and I will be making sure he knows that this rookie is going to be one of the finest detectives in the department in a very short time. I would be careful how you treat her. I have no doubt she will be your boss one day soon.” With that, he bent down and continued his examination.

  Surin had stood there frozen to the spot, her mouth wide open in shock. The detective didn’t move for a few seconds either, then threw her confiscated notebook on the ground and stomped away like a sullen teenager.

  Surin, never having been good at thank yous, picked it up and stared down at the doctor.

  “Well?” he asked. “Are you going to tell me what it is I’m seeing here or not? I don’t have all day.”

  The two of them had been working together ever since, and until she made her first case as detective, she had spent every spare second in the morgue watching autopsies and reading reports.

  Surin smiled as she watched him get in his car. She owed a lot to him and didn’t he know it.

  Refocusing on the scene at hand, she felt something shift inside her as her mind began to fully process what she saw.

  “It’s him,” she said, “I know it, Parker.”

  He watched as adrenalin instantly began leeching into her system; all her senses switched to high alert. He had to agree with her. “It does fit his MO, let’s have a closer look at the VIC.”

  They walked up and knelt down beside Isabelle Lacross. She had once been an exquisite young woman. She had a slim but athletic build, long shapely legs and was curvy in all the right places. She had creamy, flawless skin and long dark hair that was now splayed out in the dirt, forming a halo around her face.

  “His type,” Surin mumbled, mentally stopping herself from brushing back a stray lock of hair that had fallen over Isabelle’s forehead.

  Parker noted tear trails staining her cheeks, and her eyes, once probably an alluring hue of chocolate-brown, were now glazed over in an eternal look of fear.

  “Definitely his type,” Parker agreed. “I’m going to go speak to that rookie, Miller, and get a line on who found her. You ’right here?” he asked Surin, standing up and brushing the dirt gently off the knees of his pants.

  “Yeah, sure, I’ll meet you in the car in about twenty. I need to sit here for a bit.”

  He looked down at her and nodded. There was a certain sadness in her voice, and he knew she needed to be there alone.

  He turned and walked briskly back up towards the edge of the road, searching the uniforms for the first responder. He decided instead to study the faces of the large crowd that had gathered. There was a sea of iPhones that appeared to be filming the grim display. He turned to make sure that Surin and the VIC could not be caught in a recording that would end up on YouTube in the next ten minutes. Luckily, the actual dumping ground was well hidden from onlookers; all they could really see was a bunch of cops, crime scene techs and emergency vehicles. Speculation will be flying, he thought. He turned to leave when someone grabbed onto the edge of his long-sleeved grey button up.

  “Detective Rhodes, isn’t it?” said a soft feminine voice. “I’m not sure we’ve had the pleasure.”

  Parker turned and was suddenly staring into a beautiful set of baby blues.

  “Not officially, no,” he replied, gently pulling his arm away, eyeing her cautiously.

>   “Well then, I’m Madison, I do the crime watch for the Baltimore Daily.” She smiled, and her whole face lit up. This woman was ridiculously gorgeous, not to mention confident and alluring.

  Parker smiled back at her. “Detective Parker Rhodes,” he replied, and she took his hand in what was supposed to be a business-like handshake but felt more like an invitation. How can someone make a handshake sexy, he thought to himself.

  “Actually, as I understand it, Madison, you haven’t done the crime watch for some time.” He looked at her, a smile playing on his lips.

  “Oh, that, yes, a small glitch in the road. I’m back on it now, so to speak.” She countered, dropping her gaze, appearing embarrassed, but the way she looked back up at him through her lashes implied something entirely opposite.

  “Well, Detective Elliott sure will be pleased to hear that,” he replied and stepped away.

  “Detective!” she called loudly, causing other heads to turn in their direction. “Is this murder connected to the Serenity Towers killing you worked on a few months back?”

  Parker watched as the other media picked up the scent of blood. “Shit,” he muttered. The last thing he wanted was to be caught off guard answering questions.

  “No comment, Madison,” he replied, a warning in his tone.

  “Why would a detective as brilliant and highly regarded as Surin Elliott be called all the way down there?” she asked, smiling innocently as she held out a tape recorder in front of his now flushed face.

  “Breckham PD requested assis—” he began, when she abruptly cut him off.

  “Actually, I spoke to two Breckham police officers that night, and they were not happy about the intrusion. Can you shed some light, Detective? Do the people of this city need to know something?”

  Suddenly, the crowd was silent. Parker could feel a hundred sets of eyes looking at him, and even the other cops were waiting for him to respond. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, trying to think of what to say to placate the growing crowd.

  “Madison,” a calm but firm voice stated from behind Parker, “what are you up to?”

  Surin appeared and walked in front of Parker, clasping both her hands behind her back like she was making sure not to wrap them around someone’s neck.

  “Up to, Detective?” Madison replied, dramatically placing one hand over her heart like she had been insulted.

  “Yes, you want a comment? Which scene do you want a comment on? This or Serenity Towers?”

  Madison stood looking at Elliott. This has to be a trap, she thought. Surin would never give me a comment. She looked around, noticing that the entire scene was almost completely silent. They were hanging on her every word and the feeling that gave her, that attention, only fuelled her confidence.

  “Well, I guess since you threw me out of the lobby at Serenity, I would like a comment on that one.” She met Surin’s eyes and for the first time saw the hurt in them, not just anger, but hurt and embarrassment and loss. Madison had never thought before now about the hurt she might have caused this woman. In the moment, when she met Grayson, she truly didn’t care about the fallout, but now… maybe she had been so very, very wrong.

  “You were escorted out of the lobby because you had no right to be there. It was an active crime scene; there were family present; witnesses and medical personnel trying to do their jobs. You were obstructing and disobeying the law. You’re lucky you weren’t arrested.”

  Madison paled, knowing that she couldn’t stop Surin even if she wanted to. Everyone was watching; everyone was listening.

  “Most crime scene reporters wait to hear from their sources in the force,” Surin continued. “If you had actually been the crime reporter at the time, you would have received a phone call that would have given you all the statements you needed, but I believe at the time you were supposed to be on your way to cover a medieval-themed wedding? At least that’s what your editor told me when I rang to enquire why there had been such a breach of protocol.” Surin stared at her intently.

  Madison, now beginning to feel the swell of embarrassment take hold, tried to interrupt.

  “We still have a right to know what’s going on in our town,” she spluttered, immediately realising how stupid she sounded. Surin ignored her and continued.

  “The crime reporter for the Daily Times has been contacted regarding the murder of Katia Vespa, but since you have come here to make a big show and attempt to make my partner and I look incompetent, I will give you the same statement I gave her, so get your little recorder ready.”

  Parker was standing next to Surin, watching her every move. He could not believe this woman’s composure.

  “Katia Vespa’s death has been ruled a homicide. The police are talking to a person of interest, her agent, Jason Common. Her murder, while tragic, was an isolated incident resulting from a fight between alleged lovers.”

  Madison, trying to remain stoic, continued in a much meeker voice than before. “And today?” she asked.

  “Oh, today?” Surin replied, looking behind her at the crime scene, then turning back to Madison with a smile on her face. “No comment.”

  The crowd snickered quietly at Surin’s reply.

  “One more thing, Madison, as you are not the crime reporter for the Daily, you are not to be at any of my crime scenes. If I see you again, or if you approach my partner in any professional circumstances, I will be talking to your boss. I’m sure you understand that we can’t compromise the integrity of these cases, giving out information to every Nancy Drew wannabe that comes along.”

  Madison’s face turned a violent shade of red. “You can’t keep me away from crime scenes!” She raised her voice unprofessionally. “I have a right as a citizen to be here, like anyone else. You can’t do this to me, Surin. One mistake, one night of, let’s face it, pretty crappy sex, and you’re hell-bent on ruining my career!”

  Everyone was frozen to the spot. The tension in the air was palpable. Parker thought that at any minute Surin was going to draw her weapon and put a bullet between this crazy woman’s eyes, but she was just standing there smiling.

  “Madison, I’m not trying to ruin your career. I’m just doing my job.” And with that, she turned and walked back to the scene, leaving the reporter red-faced and humiliated.

  By the time she got to her Pulsar, Madison was shaking with rage. Oh my God, I can’t believe I just lost it like that! In front of cameras, in front of Surin! She put her head on the steering wheel and fought back the tears that had involuntarily sprung to the corners of her eyes. Stop it! She mentally chastised herself for being a wimp. What do you expect — you fucked the woman’s fiancé, she told herself. Leaning back into her chair, she took a deep breath. Right, you know something is going on, you can feel it. Do not stop; do not slow down. With that, she started up her car and did a wide U-turn. I’m going to go to my favourite place in the world, she thought and made a beeline for the Baltimore State Library.

  12

  The car trip to the morgue was long and quiet. Parker kept glancing furtively across at Surin until finally, he couldn’t take the silence any more.

  “So, she’s a handful,” he scoffed, instantly regretting the words that fell out of his mouth.

  Surin turned to him as a pensive look crossed her face. “Cop to cop?” she asked.

  “Anything,” he replied, just happy to be talking.

  “Do you think she’s attractive?”

  Parker nearly swerved the car into the gutter.

  This was one of those questions — the one a woman asks a man, and there is absolutely no right answer. Do I look fat in this? Am I getting old? You wouldn’t want me to get fake boobs, would you?

  Surin must have sensed his apprehension and continued. “I know she’s pretty in an all-American cheerleader way, blue eyes, hair to her ass, smile like a goddamn toothpaste commercial.” She sighed and ran her hand along the window frame. “I just thought looking at her you could tell that, that was it, you know what I me
an? Women can tell this about other women when there’s nothing else below the surface. I was wondering if men could too.” She looked at Parker, not a hint of jealousy or anger clouded her features. It was honesty she was after, so that’s what he decided to give her.

  “She is an attractive woman, Surin. There is a sexuality she has that men respond to immediately; it’s primal, and she knows it.” He looked at her, making sure she was listening.

  “But within the first minute of meeting her, I can tell you this much, after you get past the blue eyes, the hair, the smile, there is a vapid woman who uses her looks to get just about anything. She has conned her way through most of her life using her pretty face, she isn’t ashamed of it, and she thinks she deserves it. I mean, she made shaking my hand feel like an act of indecency! That is a woman to stay the hell away from, trouble with a capital ‘T’.”

  Surin sat quietly, taking it all in. “So, to answer my own stupid question, he knew exactly what kind of woman she was when he jumped into bed with her?”

  Parker looked over at her, not wanting to see such betrayal in her eyes. “Maybe that’s why he did it,” he replied.

  ***

  They entered the morgue together, preparing themselves for the autopsy on Isabelle Lacross.

  “This is the first one you have sat in with me.” Surin grinned at Parker, her previous mood forgotten or buried. “You’d better not be a spewer,” she said semi-seriously. “Vicks under the nose, breathe through your mouth,” she said.

  “I have been to an autopsy before, Elliott,” Parker replied with a scowl on his face.

  “Yeah, where you stood behind the glass in the viewing room. That’s not going to cut it here, no pun intended.” She smirked at her own joke. “We are going in.” With that, she pulled on a pair of green scrubs, a mask and scrub cap and walked off to find Vector.