Isn't it so sad that so often it takes facing death to appreciate life and each other fully. ~Esther Earl
★

Detective Archer Finn could already tell that he was late to the party. Media vans and police cruisers had gotten to his grandmother's house before him. They had taken it upon themselves to block the entire road to the extent that it was almost impenetrable.

Consequently, Archer parked his car a block away, killed the headlights and walked the rest of the distance to his grandmother's house. Emilia, Gabriel, Alea and Callie walked quietly besides him. All their faces held sullen expressions. None of them were expecting good news. The killer, presumably Matthias, had not left any survivors in his wake. It was not wrong of them to expect the worst.

They shimmied their way passed haphazardly parked cars and finally reached the palatial cottage in which his grandmother lived. If the circumstances had been different, Archer would have stopped to admire the cottage in all it's splendor. The cottage was nothing less than endearing. It resembled the witch's cottage that was made out of pastries from the Hansel and Gretel story. Archer wondered how much money his family really had stashed away. He made a mental note to ask Abigail once all this was over.

As they got closer to the cottage, the frenzied media personnel, who were being kept to one side of the road by a group of surly looking police men,  began to roar questions at them. Most of which, were directed at Archer.

"Detective Archer Finn, can you tell the public why you are no longer the primary investigator in the Harleigh Amari case?" A plump looking woman in an ill fitting suit shoved a microphone in his face.

Archer knew that she was asking not because she cared about informing the good citizens of America. But because she already knew why and she wanted to get his reaction on camera.

Another journalist, who probably thought that she was the shit because of her beady eyes, voluptuous breasts and tan skin, fought through the crowd and when she reached the front asked. "Detective Archer Finn, we have been reliably informed that you are divorcing your wife. Why is that?"

Archer was used to the media's antics by now. Their main aim was getting under your skin so that you would make a scene infront of the camera and then voila, they would have their next big story. Ignoring them was the only way to get them off your back. Otherwise, you would end up on camera saying things you didn't mean to say or doing things you never dreamt of doing. Like hitting a perky journalist over the head with their own camera. And then your career would be over. Not like he had one anyway. He was pretty much unemployed at the moment.

Archer turned to go but the same reporter pressed on, "Are you leaving your model of a wife for this thing?" She all but sneered at Emilia.

Archer was seething with rage. Who was she to talk about Emilia like that? He was going to make that woman swallow her words. No, not her words. He was going to make her swallow her camera. And then he would ruin her career. Archer flinched when Emilia caressed his balled up fists.

"It's not worth it." Emilia soothed. She half dragged him to the cottage. Archer had never been more grateful to have Emilia in his life. She was the ice and he was the fire in the relationship. They worked better as partners than enemies.

The police man, who was guarding the doorway to the cottage, blocked their entrance with his stocky body. He folded his heavily tattooed arms over his chest.

"You are not authorized to be here." He bellowed. Emilia was silently praying to God for a miracle right now because Archer was going to pummel the man to a pulp.

Fortunately, Rukelle came to the rescue.

"They are with me." Rukelle ordered and the man let them through. Archer was not beyond smirking at the guard before entering the cottage.

The smell hit them all at once. Archer and Emilia were used to the stench and remained unperturbed. Gabriel merely crinkled his nose while Alea and Callie had literally turned green.

Alea tried and failed to keep her stomach contents in. She rushed out. Gabriel ran after her and Archer soon heard retching sounds. Alea probably shouldn't have eaten all those macaroons. He couldn't blame her though. She hadn't known that she would be visiting a crime scene at ten in the night. He took deep breaths through his mouth and focused on the task at hand.

Archer didn't notice anything that indicated a crime had taken place. The living room was pristine. Everything looked to be in it's place except for a half open novel on the overstuffed black sofa. Magazines were carefully stacked on an antique wooden coffee table in the middle of the living room. This was a perfectionist's house.

Rukelle guided them to the dining room and Archer's stomach began to do the not so happy dance.

There were broken pieces of what Archer assumed were plates on the floor. Two chairs had fallen over and a pair of loafers, probably size nine, were hastily discarded under the table. Crime scene techs had placed yellow evidence markers besides the shoes and the two fallen chairs.

Rukelle echoed his thoughts, "It seems the woman, Henrietta, knew her killer. There were no signs of a break in. She let him in and even had dinner with him. It seems the killer didn't like the meal very much and went after her."

Archer was not yet ready to tell Rukelle that the woman was actually his grandmother. He tried to keep his face expressionless so that Rukelle wouldn't get curious.

He must have failed because Rukelle cocked her head to the side, "Is there something you are not telling me?"

Archer sighed. "I will tell you but at a more opportune time."

Rukelle looked ready to argue but was stopped by her new partner, Detective Matthew, when he poked his head from the staircase. He looked at Archer and something passed over his face. Rukelle didn't know if it was jealousy or admiration for her old partner. After all, he had one of the best track records on the force.

"Uhm, the crime scene techs are done processing the upper floor. You should come up and take a final look because the Medical Examiner wants to take the bodies"

"Bodies?" Archer was baffled.

Rukelle sighed and pointed up the stairs, "Just follow me and you will see for yourself."

Archer took one last look at his posse. Emilia and Callie were talking to Amanda Brown, the Medical Examiner. Gabriel and Alea were still outside. He took one huge  breath and followed Rukelle up the stairs.

If downstairs was messy, upstairs was a carnage of sorts. Furniture and clothes were strewn all over the hallway as if someone had gone and emptied all the contents of the rooms and had poured them all over the place. Then there was the blood. It was splattered over the floors, smeared on the walls and even on the ceiling. It was next to impossible to pass without destroying the scene. It was a good thing the crime scene techs had already processed the scene. Archer had to commend the killer for his ingenuity.

Archer leaped over a fallen table at the entrance of the landing to the hallway and almost stepped in blood. He stumbled over a pile of clothes and muttered a string of profanities that would make any teenager jealous. Archer finally reached the room which seemed to be even more disorganized than the hallway. He looked inside and his heart dropped.

His naked grandmother was spooned against a man. A very young man at that. He was probably only twenty five years old. They looked like a couple cuddling after a night of hot sex except for the blood oozing out of their numerous stab wounds. Archer was not going to be able to unsee that.

"Who is he?" Archer asked.

"His work ID identifies him as Edmund Fitzwilliam. He is a UPS delivery man."

"Edmund Fitzwilliam? As in the son of Jamie Fitzwilliam, the billionaire that owns the Fitz law firm in downtown Boston?"

"Yep. Don't ask me why his son is working as a UPS delivery man. I don't have an answer." Rukelle shrugged.

"You informed Jamie?" Archer questioned.

Rukelle scowled. She didn't take kindly to being undermined. Especially when it came to her job. But she would not tell Archer that. For his sake, she would cut him some slack.

"Yes, I did. From the way he responded, it seemed like his son was already dead to him."

"Damn!" Archer walked further into the room. He tried, as much as possible, to avoid the yellow evidence markers and the blood spatters on the floor.

"There is a notable difference between the two bodies." Archer began. "Edmund has only one stab wound to the heart. It was fatal, yes, but it looks like his death was more.....professional. Assassin style. Henrietta, on the other hand, was stabbed everywhere. I mean look at her. There is no body part that wasn't stabbed. I'm guessing that for Henrietta, it was an act of rage."

"It's good to be working with you again." Rukelle smiled and Archer smiled back.

Matthew cleared his throat and stepped out of the room. He was hurt.

Archer stared at his grandmother's body for a long time until his vision blurred with tears. Tears for the grandmother he had never gotten to meet, for the grandmother who would never hug him, for the woman who would never get to spoil her great grand kids.

Rukelle surprised them both by laying a hand on Archer's cheek. That was the closest to comfort that Rukelle had ever shown in the years they'd been partnered. "It's going to be okay."

"Who are you and what have you done to my partner?" Archer joked, earning a smack on the arm.

"I'm serious by the way. I care for you. I want you to be happy. And if Emilia makes you happy, then I am happy for you. I just won't be admitting that to Emilia anytime soon."

Archer let out a throaty chuckle. "Is this your version of an apology?"

Rukelle didn't have the time to answer as they were interrupted by a disturbance downstairs. They rushed downstairs and into the kitchen. Archer rushed to Alea's side. She was having a panic attack.

"Take deep breaths." Gabriel encouraged as he rubbed small circles on her back. Alea was trying to point at something that Archer just couldn't seem to see.

"Alea, what do you want me to see?" Archer questioned.

"The kitchen window." Emilia filled in for her.

Archer rushed to the window and roughly drew back the curtains. Archer was sure that everyone in the room mirrored his shocked expression as they stared at the words scrolled on the window, from the inside, in blood.

Hey, little bro!

"That wasn't there before." A crime scene tech who looked like the clone of Felonious Gru from Despicable Me spoke.

"Care to explain, Archer? I think now is a very opportune time for you to tell us the truth." Rukelle's arms were folded over her chest, her foot tapping an irregular pattern on the wooden floor. She wasn't going to budge without an explanation.

And Archer explained.

"Shit. This is like some story from a movie." Rukelle sat then stood up abruptly. "Lincoln!" She yelled. The beefy cop, who had been manning the entrance, rushed in with a quizzical expression on his face.

"Yes ma'am."

"I want  the entire crime scene log in my hands yesterday." Rukelle ordered and the cop rushed to his post and returned with a book.

Rukelle skimmed through the names on the crime scene log and frowned, "These are all qualified police officers, detectives, crime scene techs and medical examiners. Unless...."

She didn't need to complete her statement. Every one was thinking the same thing. What if the killer was one of them?  What if he was in their midst. Everyone was now giving each other deep stares as if they had suddenly gained the ability to see into each other's souls.

"That is all bullshit!" Detective Matthew said; interrupting the staring contest before people began drawing their guns. "The killer is just messing with us. This is what he, or maybe she, wants. He wants us disunited."

Another police officer rushed in with a phone in his hand. More bad news, Archer presumed. He was reminded of the story in the Bible of Job where servant after servant came in with bad news.

"Hey, it's Detective Benjamin on the line for you." The cop was sweating rivers.

Rukelle grabbed the phone and put it to her ear. She hung up in less than a minute. "That stupid bitch!" She yelled. "We need to go." Rukelle said to Matthew.

"What happened?" Archer inquired.

"The tail we had on Thelma Louise lost track of her and her parents have just called claiming that some of her clothes are gone. Thelma is skipping town."

"Fuck!" Archer exclaimed. And that just about summed up this case. It just kept getting more and more fucked up.

★★★

Next chapter out tomorrow.

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