The Kraven Cases

Tilia grabbed her cup of coffee out of the cup holder and turned the car off. She groaned with dislike for mornings. The sun was just coming up, and it peaked out to shine directly into her face. The early light stabbed into her eyes, making her regret ever leaving the bed. She reached out to open her glove box, and it was a mess. She rummaged through until she recognized what she was feeling for. A pair of shades. Her car was disheveled. She spent more time in her car than at home. It was obvious. There was a pillow in the back seat. Empty coffee containers sprawled all over the floor boards. Snack wrappers such as peanuts and Twinkies were also in the mix. Tilia looked around at the mess and made a mental note that it was time to make a visit to the car wash.

C.B. called her bright and early with news of another case and it was their turn. He seemed upset that he had beaten her out to the scene. Normally, Tilia beat everyone to the scene, but last night she’d slept in her own bed, a rare luxury, and her body wasn’t ready to forgive her for it. It is her own fault really. Sleep wasn’t something she got often, and when she did, it never lasted long. Tilia doesn’t like giving the prospective killer more time to get away. C.B. always reminds her that fresh eyes are important, but she never listens. Her dreams were always full of violence anyway, rest never came easy, so she might as well make good use of the time she had. She got out of her car and secured her keys in her jacket pocket.

She could see a team of forensic investigators down on the beach. They were putting up crime tapes and luckily the beach was not super crowded yet. However, she could see a small crowd forming trying to get a view as to what was going on. It won’t be long before the media vultures arrive. She let out another groan and began walking down to the crime scene. The morning breeze carried the sharp scent of saltwater, mixing with the metallic tang of blood she could already smell from a distance. The waves crashed rhythmically behind the crime scene tape, indifferent to the chaos unfolding on the shore.

As she got closer, she noticed a man in a suit waving at her from the crowd of investigators. Chester Bradley, her partner, is waiting anxiously for her. His happiness in the mornings is too much to bear. He is a good detective but sometimes he is too much of a people pleaser. He began to walk towards her, and she noticed the sand covering his shoes as he hurriedly made his way towards her. Luckily, she wore her boots today. Tilia wore her well-worn blue jeans, an obviously wrinkled button up collared shirt and her lucky overcoat. All she cared about was that she found something relatively clean to throw on at the start of her day. Luckily, she actually ran a brush through her long brunette hair. Mainly because she needed to pin it up, so it stayed out of her way. She wore a clip in her hair, so it was easy to take out when her head started to hurt. Tilia did not care too much about appearance or perception for that matter. She thrived more on functionality and could care less how others perceive her. Her top priority is finding justice for the victims. Hence, she leaves the media vultures to her partner to deal with. Their partnership was complimentary and she liked that.

He was younger and looked particularly handsome in his dark colored suit. Chester naturally has hazel eyes, but he also came prepared with shades. The ladies were always drawn to C.B. That is what she called him for short. She just couldn’t take him seriously when she called him Chester. It felt as though something from a Leave It to Beaver episode. When she imagined how it was said in the bedroom it just made her giggle. So, she has been calling him C.B. since their first day together.

The way C.B. was acting told her that this body was different. Normally C.B. would just wait by the body for her. He was acting excitably and nervous. He was rushing which made him clumsy in the sand, as he threw it around trying to increase his pace. Tilia looked past him and noticed quite a bit of blood at the scene. Was it that gory? What kind of depraved individual landed in her lap this time? The forensic team had blanketed a large portion of the scene, and she could still see trails of blood. It was a large area taped off, and the crowd forming to the left had started taking pictures. Great. Just what she needed.

She also looked at the multitude of agents aimlessly wandering through the area. She hated not using her own team. Her boss did not like how picky she was about having certain forensics examined by certain people. Nor did the city have the budget for it half the time. Her last case caused a ruckus because she was determined not to go through their crime lab. It was important to Tilia to make sure the evidence was irrefutable. The city couldn’t argue with that. She has managed to put some serious scumbags behind bars for a long time because her investigation was perfect. Evidence commonly is missed with the regular lab and they kind of hate her. Probably because she calls them out on their shotty work all the time. At least she can see them all wearing gloves. However, now there are footprints everywhere which would make it difficult to discern if the killer made any.

Tilia looked back at the parking lot and noticed a couple of news vans had arrived. The reporters and camera operators started taking up positions to the right of the tape and an officer began walking to that perimeter to be sure they did not cross the tape. Same can’t be said about the civilians on the other side though. She could see some bystanders trying to make their way closer to get that perfect picture. Unfortunately, many of the tabloids pay top dollar for those types of pictures. The gorier the better. One of the officers had noticed someone had slipped under the tape and was pushing them back to where they belong. Good job. She thought. Tilia decided to stop progressing further toward the scene and allow C.B. to come to her. Sometimes that is necessary to discuss details in private before she explores the scene.

Something in C.B.’s expression tightened her stomach. He wasn’t just excited — he was rattled. That wasn’t like him. Whatever waited behind that tape wasn’t just another body. It was something worse.

He finally made it to her with his pocket size notebook in hand. Good note taker was one of his stronger skills. She could always depend on him for that. Tilia noticed a group of girls in the crowd that were more interested in taking pictures of him instead of the scene. She made sure to stand at an angle that would not capture her face in their photos. Tilia rolled her eyes and C.B. looked back, noticed the girls, grinned and gave a slight wave. Who could really blame them? He was handsome, young, and toned. She guessed that she found it so annoying because he was more like a brother to him. Work is her first love. The desire to find that special someone has never been of interest to her. Many have tried but she has never been interested.

C.B took a deep breath and gave Tilia a look of concern. He looked down at his notebook and Tilia groaned, took a sip of coffee, and prepared for the worst.

“Til, you’re not going to believe it.”

Something in his voice told her she wouldn’t want to.