Chapter 1: Small Town
I have wanted all my life to get out of this damn town. I don’t think there’s anything more than I ever wanted, but here I am, investigating the second murder we’ve had in a month.
It wasn’t always like this though. Once, in this happy out of nowhere town, you didn’t lock the doors, and everyone trusted everyone.
I sigh, looking at the second victim. Blonde, blue eyes, young adult. I put the sheet over her, hoping to one day get that image out of my mind.
“Are you okay, kid?” Martin said, patting me on the shoulder. Martin’s in his early 50’s and my partner. We’d hardly call ourselves detectives, like I said, it’s a small town and crimes like this just don’t happen.
“Does this ever get better?”
“I’ve only had a homicide case once in my career, and you just learn to block out certain things.”
I wasn’t surprised at what he said. Easy for him to block out that case he had when it happened over 20 years ago, plenty of time for him to forget. Me? I’ve been in this job for only 5 years and this happens.
“My mom was right, I should’ve I gotten out of this town when I had chance,” I mutter.
“What, kid?”
“Nothing Martin-” His phone started to ring, and he answers with ‘hm’ and ‘okay.’ Before hanging up the phone.
“Well it looks like the F.B.I is coming,” Martin said.
“Why, it’s only the second murder? Sure it could be the same person but it can’t be.”
“Are you sure about that? It’s the same M.O as other victims in surrounding cities. You’ve been watching the news right?”
I shake my head. “No, I prefer to go home and not think about work.”
“Young people these days.” Martin tsk and walks off.
“Hey where’re you going?” I shout.
“To the station, you coming or your gonna walk?”
———at the station————
On the whiteboard, there’s a picture of the victims. Both around the same ages. The first girl, Sandra Jennings, the second Vanessa Miller. Both same M.O, blonde, blue eyed, white, tall, early 20s, both skinny too.
Some part of me thinks that this can’t be a big deal. Could a serial killer really be runny rampant in this small town and other towns near to our population size too?
It doesn’t make sense, don’t these things happen in bigger cities. I’ve grown up with everyone who’s in this city almost except for some. Could’ve known or went to school with someone who’s killing these innocent women?
I got up from my chair. “Ok, I’m not going to wait around for the B.A.U to show up for who knows how long. I’m going to interview Vanessa Millers parents.”
“Not without me,” Martin said. “Did you call first?”
“Yes and they’re home.”
“Okay you lead the way.”
At Vanessa Millers parent’s home, it was a mess. There was clothing all over and boxes on the ground filled with junk. I squeezed my way through the land fill to get to the living room.
It made me questions, maybe I don’t know everybody as much as I think I do. I’ve passed by this house a million times, passed by this lady at the grocery store, and never once did I think she was a hoarder or that this house was in shambles from the inside and not the out.
Mrs.Miller wasn’t in tears anymore, but her hands were shaking slightly, she breathed deeply in and out as her husband, Mr.Miller tried to comfort her but he too was in equal distress.
“Do- do you want to sit?” Mrs.Miller said, motioning for the torn up couch.
Both Martin and I declined as politely as we could. “We’re so very sorry for your loss Mr and Mrs.Miller,” Martin said, in a very gentle voice. I was shocked because he’s usual rough but now I understand why he wanted to do the talking. I’ve never been in this situation before, except a month before.
“If your sorry catch the scum bag who did this!” Mrs.Miller said before choking up again.
“We’re doing all that we can ma’am, but first we need to ask a couple of questions,” Martin said slowly.
“About what? You need to instead catch who did this,” Mr.Miller said.
“Please, just a couple of question, it’ll help us find whoever did this to your daughter,” Martin said.
Hesitantly, Mr.Miller nodded his head. Mrs.Miller wipes her tears from her cheeks. I pictured Vanessa again. She doesn’t deserve this, her parents don’t deserve this. Why and why now? Why this girl, why this town? I run in circles in my head but can’t seem a way to come up with an answer. These people expect us to find who did this to her daughter but I feel like an idiot. Martin’s right, we need the B.A.U team to help us after all.
“When did you last see Vanessa?” Martin said.
“Vanessa said she was going to study at the library with a friend. I think it was around the afternoon,” Mr.Miller said.
“Did this friend have a name?” Martin said.
“I don’t know, i think it might’ve been, Lizzy or something-” Mr.Miller begins to speak but Mrs.Miller interrupts him.
“Linda. Her name was Linda. They’ve known each other since elementary.” Mrs.Miller directs her attention towards her husband, “you would’ve known that if your were home more often.”
“How do you think the bills are gonna get paid. By a money tree? No way, especially when all you do is-”
“Enough!” Martin said. Both of them directed their attention towards Martin. “If you care about Vanessa then you’d answer all my questions.”
Mr and Mrs.Miller both quiet down. “I didn’t mean to yell like that, but we all want to find this sickening person who did this to your daughter in the fastest way possible.” Martin said. “Now please, do you have Linda’s phone number?”
“Yes I have it on my my phone, I’ll go grab it," she got up from the couch, leaving the room.
“You know I’m not a horrible father I’m just so busy,” Mr.Miller said, breaking down in tears.
“We know,” Martin said.
Mrs.Miller came back from the other room with a paper written with a number on it. She handed it to Martin. “This is her mother’s number, I don’t have Linda’s.”
Martin nodded. “Thank you for both of you time’s, and again sorry for you loss.”
I also told them that and then we left. I wasn’t aware that time that the B.A.U was already at the station and more unready about who I was about to meet who would change my life.
A/N I can picture Martin as Joe West (the step dad of Barry Allen a.k.a The Flash).
It wasn’t always like this though. Once, in this happy out of nowhere town, you didn’t lock the doors, and everyone trusted everyone.
I sigh, looking at the second victim. Blonde, blue eyes, young adult. I put the sheet over her, hoping to one day get that image out of my mind.
“Are you okay, kid?” Martin said, patting me on the shoulder. Martin’s in his early 50’s and my partner. We’d hardly call ourselves detectives, like I said, it’s a small town and crimes like this just don’t happen.
“Does this ever get better?”
“I’ve only had a homicide case once in my career, and you just learn to block out certain things.”
I wasn’t surprised at what he said. Easy for him to block out that case he had when it happened over 20 years ago, plenty of time for him to forget. Me? I’ve been in this job for only 5 years and this happens.
“My mom was right, I should’ve I gotten out of this town when I had chance,” I mutter.
“What, kid?”
“Nothing Martin-” His phone started to ring, and he answers with ‘hm’ and ‘okay.’ Before hanging up the phone.
“Well it looks like the F.B.I is coming,” Martin said.
“Why, it’s only the second murder? Sure it could be the same person but it can’t be.”
“Are you sure about that? It’s the same M.O as other victims in surrounding cities. You’ve been watching the news right?”
I shake my head. “No, I prefer to go home and not think about work.”
“Young people these days.” Martin tsk and walks off.
“Hey where’re you going?” I shout.
“To the station, you coming or your gonna walk?”
———at the station————
On the whiteboard, there’s a picture of the victims. Both around the same ages. The first girl, Sandra Jennings, the second Vanessa Miller. Both same M.O, blonde, blue eyed, white, tall, early 20s, both skinny too.
Some part of me thinks that this can’t be a big deal. Could a serial killer really be runny rampant in this small town and other towns near to our population size too?
It doesn’t make sense, don’t these things happen in bigger cities. I’ve grown up with everyone who’s in this city almost except for some. Could’ve known or went to school with someone who’s killing these innocent women?
I got up from my chair. “Ok, I’m not going to wait around for the B.A.U to show up for who knows how long. I’m going to interview Vanessa Millers parents.”
“Not without me,” Martin said. “Did you call first?”
“Yes and they’re home.”
“Okay you lead the way.”
At Vanessa Millers parent’s home, it was a mess. There was clothing all over and boxes on the ground filled with junk. I squeezed my way through the land fill to get to the living room.
It made me questions, maybe I don’t know everybody as much as I think I do. I’ve passed by this house a million times, passed by this lady at the grocery store, and never once did I think she was a hoarder or that this house was in shambles from the inside and not the out.
Mrs.Miller wasn’t in tears anymore, but her hands were shaking slightly, she breathed deeply in and out as her husband, Mr.Miller tried to comfort her but he too was in equal distress.
“Do- do you want to sit?” Mrs.Miller said, motioning for the torn up couch.
Both Martin and I declined as politely as we could. “We’re so very sorry for your loss Mr and Mrs.Miller,” Martin said, in a very gentle voice. I was shocked because he’s usual rough but now I understand why he wanted to do the talking. I’ve never been in this situation before, except a month before.
“If your sorry catch the scum bag who did this!” Mrs.Miller said before choking up again.
“We’re doing all that we can ma’am, but first we need to ask a couple of questions,” Martin said slowly.
“About what? You need to instead catch who did this,” Mr.Miller said.
“Please, just a couple of question, it’ll help us find whoever did this to your daughter,” Martin said.
Hesitantly, Mr.Miller nodded his head. Mrs.Miller wipes her tears from her cheeks. I pictured Vanessa again. She doesn’t deserve this, her parents don’t deserve this. Why and why now? Why this girl, why this town? I run in circles in my head but can’t seem a way to come up with an answer. These people expect us to find who did this to her daughter but I feel like an idiot. Martin’s right, we need the B.A.U team to help us after all.
“When did you last see Vanessa?” Martin said.
“Vanessa said she was going to study at the library with a friend. I think it was around the afternoon,” Mr.Miller said.
“Did this friend have a name?” Martin said.
“I don’t know, i think it might’ve been, Lizzy or something-” Mr.Miller begins to speak but Mrs.Miller interrupts him.
“Linda. Her name was Linda. They’ve known each other since elementary.” Mrs.Miller directs her attention towards her husband, “you would’ve known that if your were home more often.”
“How do you think the bills are gonna get paid. By a money tree? No way, especially when all you do is-”
“Enough!” Martin said. Both of them directed their attention towards Martin. “If you care about Vanessa then you’d answer all my questions.”
Mr and Mrs.Miller both quiet down. “I didn’t mean to yell like that, but we all want to find this sickening person who did this to your daughter in the fastest way possible.” Martin said. “Now please, do you have Linda’s phone number?”
“Yes I have it on my my phone, I’ll go grab it," she got up from the couch, leaving the room.
“You know I’m not a horrible father I’m just so busy,” Mr.Miller said, breaking down in tears.
“We know,” Martin said.
Mrs.Miller came back from the other room with a paper written with a number on it. She handed it to Martin. “This is her mother’s number, I don’t have Linda’s.”
Martin nodded. “Thank you for both of you time’s, and again sorry for you loss.”
I also told them that and then we left. I wasn’t aware that time that the B.A.U was already at the station and more unready about who I was about to meet who would change my life.
A/N I can picture Martin as Joe West (the step dad of Barry Allen a.k.a The Flash).
