Celtic R. Singer

I pulled up to the police station in my 57 candy red Chevy convertible. I had the top up so I looked professional. With my sunglasses still on I scanned over the area, nothing was unusual. I made my way up the steps and pulled open the glass door. As I walked up to the front desk I pulled off my sunglasses revealing chilling teal eyes.

“May I help you?” The officer behind the desk asked me.

I reached into my blazer pocket and pulled out my badge.

“I’m agent Mitchell,” I told him, “I’m here to see the sheriff.”

He nodded, “Please wait here a moment.”

I nodded as he left, I looked around the room. Nothing really out of the ordinary. Cops filling things, and doing paperwork, people coming with complaints. If only they knew.

“Agent Mitchell.” The sheriff came out and shook my hand.

“Hello sheriff.”

“Please, step into my office.” He led me to a small room in the back and closed the door behind me. In it was a desk and three chairs, one for him, and two on the other side of the desk for company, there were many trinkets and do dad’s on his desk and his shelves were lined with trophies.

“Please sit down.” He said as he went behind his desk, I sat down in the chair on the right and crossed my legs, “So what can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you could tell me about the resent murders occurring around here the past few weeks.” I started.

He chuckled a little bit as he leaned back into his chair, “I hardly see as this is any concern of the F.B.I.” He told me.

“We’d just like to look into this to make sure there was nothing this department couldn’t handle.” I assured.

“It wasn’t murder.” He told me leaning forward, “It was suicide.”

“Suicide?” I asked.

He nodded, “All of the victims were either drained of blood by cuts on their wrists or hung themselves.”

It was my turn to nod, “And all of these victims were male, as I understand?”

He nodded, “All between the ages of eighteen and twenty-four.”

I nodded, “Sheriff, it’s not too much trouble, would it be possible for me to see some of the bodies?”

He chuckled again, “Sure, I can take you down right now.”

I nodded, “Thank you.”

I pulled my long, curly, dirty blonde hair into a pony tail as the doctor pulled out the most recent victim.

He pulled back the white sheet, and instantly I had to cover my nose. I had sharper senses then most, hearing and smell were my highest developed.

“This one was a strange one.” The doctor told me, “Not only were there lacerations on the wrist,” Red and purple bruises covered both of his wrists, “And his neck,” The same marks were apparent there, “But what was really interesting was that he didn’t go the same way the rest of them did.”

“How did he die?” I asked.

“Well, I’m sure you already got a whiff of it, but that’d be oven cleaner, and cassava.”

“cassava?” I asked.

He nodded, “It was the bitter one of the two roots,” He told me.

“If not prepared right it could be poisonous.” I finished.

He nodded, “That’s right.”

“If this were suicide, then why does he have lacerations and all the others don’?” I asked.

The doctor shrugged, “He could have tried a few different ways to kill himself, and then decided on poison.”

“One more question.” He looked at me intently, “Poison is one of the most painful ways to die, so why would someone wishing to escape pain put himself through more of it just to die?”

He shrugged, “I couldn’t tell you that, detective. The only one that could would be the one on the table in front of you.”

I nodded, “If it’s alright I’d like a copy of all the other biopsies.”

I walked out met the sheriff right outside the door.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” He asked me.

I nodded, “A list of all the family members, co-workers, and friends you have on all the victims. Along with birth and family records, along with anything else you have on them.”

“I can have them ready for you at the station for when we get back.” He told me.

“Thank you, sheriff.” I said and shook his hand again.

I grabbed the reports and went straight to the station. After receiving about thirty pounds of paper from the secretary there I headed back to my motel room.

I unlocked the door carrying in, I don’t know how much and dumped that on the bed. I pulled my hair down and took off my blazer and blouse leaving me in only my black tank top and dark grey slacks. I picked up my cell phone and grabbed a phone book.

After ordering Pizza I set out to work.