BLACK RIVER
Jason’s arms were found fifty feet from the Black River.
Nothing else other than a coagulated blood trail dissolving in a sudden rainstorm.
I pointed to the investigation slips.
“Why are these empty?”
“They weren’t when we left the site,” a detective said.
“Any chance you got the wrong papers?”
“We had them the entire time.”
The fact didn’t bother them.
“We’ll try again next round.”
They looked around.
“We held a meeting to review what happened, but nobody remembers a thing. Is that normal?”
“Lots of people go missing and develop amnesia at Black River. Work doesn’t require memory.”
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