6th October, 2015 (One Day after the Murder).

8:20 AM.

Ian hated morgues, but being a detective, had no choice than to deal with them. A cold gust of air hit him hard as he walked into the mortuary where Bethany’s body was being kept. The entire room was white – the walls, the floor, the ceiling, the tables. It smelled like death, and he couldn’t wait to leave as soon as possible.

He saw the medical examiner sitting by the corner, eating a sandwich and felt a pang of disgust. Who in their sane mind would consider eating where bodies were kept? The medical examiner glanced at him, and stood up with surprise. He was a tall man, and extremely huge. He had tufts of reddish brown hair on his otherwise bald head, but seemed to have an easy disposition.

“Detective McNeil, I was expecting you. I am Dr. Ambrose,” he said, wiping his greasy hands on his pants and extending it for a handshake. His sweet smile was proof that Ian had been right.

“I came here for the preliminary report.” Ian replied curtly, as he ignored the outstretched hand. It was nothing personal, but the man smelled like dead bodies, and he did not want to be reminded of this place long after he had gone.

“Right. Bethany Cooper. Follow me please.” Dr. Ambrose's friendly smile died on his face, and his demeanor became cold. Like most people, he probably thought Ian was a pompous asshole. Well, he could get in line. He promptly led Ian to the table where Bethany’s body was kept.

“From my preliminary findings, she died by homicide, due to asphyxiation by strangulation with a long, thin object, similar to a shoe lace.” He said, as he gestured to the line around her neck.

She was badly beaten beforehand though, but it was the strangulation that killed her,” he concluded.

“Sexual assault?” Ian asked.

“No, she was not sexually assaulted.”

“I would place the time of death between 10 PM on the 4th of October, and 1 AM yesterday, the 5th of October. She was in the lake for approximately eight hours before she was found.” Dr. Ambrose looked at the body with pity and shook his head.

“What else should I know?” Ian asked. The room seemed to grow colder, and he was beginning to get goosebumps.

“Well, based on the severity of the beating she received and the skin cells found under her nails, the assaulter would probably have wounds, like scratches and pinches, most likely on the arms and hands because the victim was trying to defend herself.”

“Is it possible that she may have been beaten and strangled at different times?” Ian wondered aloud.

“What do you mean?”

“She may have gotten away from the person who beat her, but someone else strangled her and disposed of her body before she got to her destination?” he clarified.

“Highly unlikely, but possible,” Dr. Ambrose answered expertly.

“I will await further updates. Carry on,” he said as he walked hastily out of the morgue.

He drove to the station, his mind filled with theories. It was possible she did not know her attacker, though not probable. The method of death seemed quite intimate, almost like a crime of passion. She certainly knew who killed her.

Ian was almost certain she was killed by a male, as he would be strong enough to carry the body to the lake.

Or a determined female, he thought at the back of his mind. No, he could not rule anything out. From years of experience as a detective, he had learned to expect the unexpected. And like Alyson had said, no one at Atwood was to be trusted.

When he reached the station, he put his car in park, and walked into the building. He got into his office, and closed his door. The room was as stuffy as ever, but he needed absolute silence to think.

“Detective,” Suarez called as he came into his office without as much as a knock. He was scowling like he had just eaten something bad.

“The dead girl’s boyfriend has agreed to come in for questioning in a few hours,” he simply said, and turned to leave.

“Okay. Suarez?” Ian called.

“Yeah?”

“Her name was Bethany. You are my subordinate on this case, and you have to show human empathy for the deceased. She was a person, and you’d do well to remember that. Close my door on your way out and direct Nathan Fields here when he shows up.”

If looks could kill, Ian would have been buried. He certainly had a knack for making people dislike him effortlessly. Suarez swallowed his pride and closed the door as he left.

Ian was tired and needed to review the facts of the case. He closed his eyes.

“Sir?” he heard a voice call.

He opened his eyes and looked at the time; It was 3:14 PM.

He glanced at the person who called out and could tell it was Bethany’s boyfriend. He looked like the poster boy for high school footballer stereotypes. He was tall for his age, probably 6’1 with an athlete’s body. He had short blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and was wearing a letterman jacket. He had a bag slung over his shoulders. Suarez followed him in.

“Nathan Fields. Have a seat,” Ian said as the young man calmly sat on one of the chairs across him. He had a prep school boy look about him, and Ian was unimpressed. This was obviously someone used to getting his way.

“I'm not going to take much of your time, as we both have things to do, so I will just ask you a couple questions about Bethany. That okay?”

“Yeah.” Nathan glanced around the office, and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead.  He wondered why the room was so hot. Was it to make him more nervous?

“You went to school today?” Ian asked.

“Yeah. I was going to stay back, but everything at home reminded me of her. I had to get busy with something,” Nathan replied quietly.

“What was your relationship with Bethany like?” Ian asked.

“We loved each other. We had our disagreements occasionally, but, we always got back together in the end.”

“Was the relationship sexual?” Suarez cut in.

“Yes, we have had sex several times.”

“About how many times did you break up on average?” Ian asked.

“We broke up a lot, but they were never serious, and we usually got back together a few hours after we had cooled off,” Nathan replied calmly. The questions seemed to loosen him up a little.

“When was the last time you saw Bethany?” Ian asked.

“Two days ago. She came over to my place around three, three thirty. That was the last time I saw her. I… was in class yesterday when they said her body… had been… found.” He was clearly trying not to cry.

“Were you on good terms at the time of her disappearance?” Suarez asked impatiently. He looked irritated, like he blamed Nathan for deliberately wasting his time.

“We were,” he replied quietly.

Ian looked at Nathan closely. He looked terrible, and his eyes were red, like he had been crying before he came. He had a day old beard, and his clothes were rumpled. Ian looked closely at his hands; He observed that Nathan kept pulling the sleeves of his jacket downwards. He stopped when he noticed Ian looking at him.

“Why do you have scratch marks on your hands?” Ian asked. The question seemed to take Nathan by surprise.

“It’s my mom’s cat. She was startled so she attacked me,” Nathan replied cautiously.

“Why would a cat that knows you just up and attack you?” Suarez asked skeptically.

“After I heard of Beth’s death, I was upset. When I got home, I started throwing things and it startled the cat. She attacked me and scratched me.”

Ian looked at Suarez and gave him a slight nod. Suarez made a mental note to fact check the cat story immediately.

“What of the bruises on your fists?” Ian asked.

“Am I under suspicion for Beth’s death?" He asked offended.

“Answer the damn question Fields,” Suarez snapped. Ian tried to stifle a smile. It seemed like Suarez may not have bad intentions, but was just a naturally ill-mannered man.

“I am not suspecting you of anything, but it is a murder investigation, and it is our job to leave no stone unturned,” Ian cajoled. He fit into the role of good cop by silent agreement.

“I had a fight with a player on my team about three days ago.”

Suarez made another mental note to confirm the story. He knew boys like Nathan Fields. They were pompous, spoiled, and thought the world revolved around them. If his story did not check out, he would take immense pleasure in personally slapping the handcuffs around the brat’s wrists. He smiled a little to himself at the thought.

“Would you mind giving us a DNA sample?” Ian asked.

He hesitated, “I’m not so sure.”

“Do you have something to hide?” Suarez asked.

“It’s just routine. You don’t have to give us if you don’t want to,” Ian clarified.

“Fine,” Nathan conceded. He knew not giving them a sample would make him appear guilty. The fat detective was glaring at him, and Nathan wondered if he had a problem. The man seemed to have a strong dislike for him.

“One more thing, Nathan. Where were you between the hours of 10 PM and 1 AM the night Bethany was murdered?” Ian asked.

“I was at home.”

“Alone?”

“No… I was with Sherlyn,” Nathan hesitatingly replied.

“It’s not what you think. She spent the night in my room, but nothing happened. We just talked,” He clarified to the disbelieving stares on the two detectives’ faces.

“Were you together the whole night?” Suarez asked.

“Yeah.”

“What time did she come to your place?”

“I texted her to come over by 11 or so, but it took a while before she showed up. I think she was probably busy. We spent the night at my place, and then she went to her house in the morning to get her stuff for school.”

“Can she confirm your story?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you. You can go,” Ian said.

Nathan sighed, and slumped out the door.

*****
6th September, 2015 (One Month to the Murder).

04:00 PM.

Nathan sighed in satiation as he looked up at the mirrored ceiling in his bedroom. He could see his and Bethany’s bodies, tangled together and covered only by a sheet. Her blonde hair was wild, and fell in waves across the pillow. She ran her hands across his chest, gently stroking the scar underneath his right breast.

Nathan shivered as he remembered how he got it.

It was almost midnight on his eleventh birthday as he and his mother waited anxiously for his dad to return. His father was extremely good at putting work first, but it was his son’s birthday and Nathan was disappointed. His mom had tried to lead him to bed earlier, but he desperately needed a birthday wish from his dad, and stubbornly refused to go. He fell asleep on the couch instead. His birthday cake lay forgotten on the table.

He was woken up by a loud argument, and he opened his eyes to realize the shouting match was coming from his parents. He had never seen his usually quiet mother so angry, as she raged about her husband being a better politician than he was a father.

His father justified his absence by saying he had lost track of the time, but his mother was having none of it. Even from the distance, Nathan could smell the alcohol wafting from him. He tried to stop them as he felt guilty seeing them fight because of him. He got up from the couch but stopped in his tracks as his father hit his mother hard across her face, and watched her fall to the ground. She screamed but did not seem surprised, as he beat her mercilessly. That was the moment Nathan realized the abuse that had been going on right under his nose.

He ran, desperate to help his mother in some way, when his dad took a hot poker from the fireplace and hit him on the chest. Sam had been aiming for his wife, but was surprised when his son appeared in front of her and took the hit instead. At Nathan’s scream, Sam dropped the poker and watched his son with regret.

“I am so sorry,” he kept saying.

Nathan was rushed to the hospital, but was left with a permanent scar as a reminder of what happened that night. The family covered up by saying a negligent maid had left an electric iron on, and Nathan had accidentally injured himself. The maid was fired, and the abuse continued. Sometimes, the ire extended to him, other times, it did not.

When he was fifteen, he punched his father in the face when he attempted to hit him. His father was a big man, about 6’4 and would have taken him easily, but he had seen something in Nathan’s eyes that made him halt. He never touched him again. 

His father loved politics, and had a natural charisma that could fool even the most skeptical of people. That was why he had insisted Nathan go to a local high school, instead of a fancy prep school with a bunch of poor people, so the locals would see them as being more communal, and hence, more relatable. That way, the townsfolk would be more willing to give him votes during the local elections.

Despite the abuse, he loved his father and loved the life he was accustomed to even more. Sam Fields was running for second term as the mayor, and had hopes to run for governor. Nathan knew that if what happened behind closed doors got out, his whole family will suffer, and his father could kiss his political campaign goodbye. So it was a closely guarded secret.

Nathan held Bethany tighter in his arms and smirked; he was handsome, had a good body, was rich, and from an influential family. He was an absolute catch! He knew that Bethany, though beautiful, was far below his league. He was destined for someone better.

Still, he had to enjoy his relationship with her while it lasted. His life was like a play that had been written many times over. He was to graduate from high school, then major in public administration so he would get a political career like his father. He would eventually be mayor, and get married to a rich, quiet, high class, housewifely woman from his social standing, someone like his mom. Unfortunately, Bethany did not fit into his life in the long run.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked her.

“How you got that scar,” she replied.

“I already told you,” He said nervously.

“I don’t believe you. I will find out eventually, you know,” she continued, as she kissed him deeply. Nathan was not sure if that was a threat or a promise, but knew he had to be more careful. Bethany could be annoyingly persistent when she wanted to, and as much as he loved his girlfriend, he knew her knowledge of the truth was the worst thing that could possibly happen.

The door was thrown open and his father walked in. Bethany did not even bother to cover up or get off him, and just snuggled closer instead. His father always made a huge show of how he disliked her, but when he thought no one was looking, Nathan had seen the way he looked at Bethany – with lust.

“Dad could you knock?” Nathan asked annoyed.

“Oh I’m sorry about that, son,” he replied as he stood by the door, not averting his eyes.

“What do you want?” Nathan found the entire situation awkward. Why was his dad just standing there?

“We have guests coming by six pm.”

“Okay, can you excuse us now please?” Nathan covered himself and Bethany more. His dad’s presence in the room creeped him out.

“Right. Get dressed,” the Mayor said as he gave them a final glance and walked out.

I would have to tell mother about this, Nathan thought, as he did not intend to share his girlfriend with his father. His mother, though quiet in nature, was highly intelligent. She would know what to do.

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