Last of the Shapeshifters

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

SASHA

Sasha carefully and slowly began walking down a narrow corridor that was dark and musty, lit only by the faint glow of a single flickering light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The wooden floorboards creaked under her every step, warped and worn down by decades of use. She inspected the walls, noticing that the peeling wallpaper was a faded muddy brown, stained with water damage and age. The house reminded her of old Charlie Kinnear just by its appearance.

The air felt heavy and still, as if the outside world had been shut out for a long, long time. An aura of neglect and decline hung like a shroud that brought an involuntary shiver to Sasha. She wanted to somehow stall even longer. Maybe she should go outside and talk to Mr. Sands first?

No, she’d have to work the scene eventually. She sucked it up, took three decisive steps, had one look at the bedroom through the wide open doorway, and then turned around, hand over her mouth. Sasha wasn’t the squeamish type – she wasn’t going to puke – but a storm of dizziness now overcame her.

“Oh my God,” she said into her hand. She fell into a squat, making sure her back didn’t press up against the wall. Old man Kinnear was missing most of his neck.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, not looking up at whichever of the uniforms had asked. “I’m fine.”

“Pretty horrible, eh?”

“Yes,” Sasha agreed. “Horrible.”

“We’ve been talking,” he said then. “It looks like an animal did it, right? Because it’s really messy. But then you look around, and nothing’s been disturbed, right? Surely an animal would go for the trash or at least knock something over. I took a look, and there’s left over food in there!”

Sasha looked up at the police officer. He had his hands on his hips, thumbs tucked into his belt. “Did you move anything?”

“No,” he said, putting his hands up and shaking his head. It was quite obvious to Sasha that he was doing his best to mask a swell of indignation. She didn’t particularly blame him — she’d been there before. But she had to ask.

He continued: “Of course I didn’t. It’s just weird, don’t you think?”

“How did you get in?”

“The front door.”

“It was unlocked?”

“I told you, we didn’t touch anything. It’s not my first day, detective.”

“Right,” Sasha said. “Sorry.”

“No need to say sorry.”

“So the door was unlocked?”

“Yes.”

“But you opened it?”

“I used a glove. And just two fingers.”

“Good,” Sasha said, nodding. They’d be able to print the doorknob, though in her mind she knew that was a long shot. “Then why do you think it was an animal?” Sasha got to her feet, c****d her head to the side. “I mean, like you said, nothing was touched.”

“You see old man Charlie?”

She nodded.

“That’s how I know. I mean, how would a man even do that? Like, I can’t really think of a tool that could do that, and the way the blood is splattered doesn’t suggest multiple wound inflictions.”

Sasha tilted her head at the officer.

“I read a lot of forensics books,” he said. “I hope to make detective in the future.”

“You will,” Sasha said. “Good catch.” She agreed with him on the splatter pattern. It wasn’t messy enough for multiple blows. It was just a single… swipe? Rake? She couldn’t quite place it. It made her think of a big swing from a giant claw, but any creature that big would have disturbed the scene more than it was. “Why did you say man? Could have been a woman.”

“Just saying,” the officer said. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Sasha said. “Don’t shut off possibilities before you’ve investigated them. It creates blind spots.”

He snapped his fingers at her. “You’re right. I do think it was a man, though.”

“Oh? Why?”

“Rumor has it that Mr. Kinnear, uh, swung the other way.”

“Rumors, huh,” she said, giving him a quizzical eye.

“I know, I know. If it’s not substantiated—”

“It’s okay,” she said. “Well, anyway, thank you. You can go now.”

“Want me to call anyone else? Coroner’s on his way already.”

“No,” Sasha said. “I’ve got it from here. I’ll make the calls. Thanks for the help.”

“No problem, detective. Oh, seriously, it was a great job you did at the meth lab. Most of the boys I know would have hunkered down waiting for backup, but you stuck it out. You earned your promotion. You made us proud that day.”

Sasha looked at the police officer. She had tried not to think about it. “I shot at people,” Sasha said. Her voice was quiet. “Injured two of them, and nearly killed one of them. Even if they were the bad guys, I don’t feel particularly glad about the whole thing.”

The officer shrugged. “You don’t shoot, then you wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Yeah,” Sasha said. She eyed the officer. She knew where she recognized him from now. “Hey,” she said. “You were the first backup to arrive, weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Sorry. I didn’t remember. I’ve tried to sort of put that day out of my memory. Why did you say we’d never formally met?”

“Because we haven’t. I was assigned to traffic control soon afterward. Didn’t see you for the rest of the day. Anyway, don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks, I guess. I mean, for getting there so quickly.”

“Don’t worry about it. We watch each other’s backs, right? See you later.”

“Yeah. See you later.”

Watching the police officer go, Sasha steadied her breathing, and then turned back toward the bedroom. Ignoring the lifeless body of Charlie Kinnear as well as she could, she saw that the officer was right. Nothing looked like it had been disturbed. There wasn’t all that much in the bedroom, and Sasha noticed a film of dust lying atop the bedside table. Not much in the room ever got touched, moved or cleaned. There were few obvious clues.

At least he was killed in his sleep, Sasha thought. No, she hoped.

She left the house then. She would have to wait for the coroner, anyway, and she was having a forensics guy bring down the necessary gear. She didn’t want to stand around and stare at the victim’s open neck.

Walking toward the house on the left, where Sally Clark lived, she noticed the woman looking out of her window at her. Sasha waved, smiled, and gestured at Mrs. Clark’s front door. The gray-maned woman nodded, and a minute later, was standing in the open doorway cradling a mug.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?”

Sasha closed the gap between them quickly, and shook her head. “No thank you, Mrs. Clark. Truthfully, I would love a cup, but we’re not to accept anything from anybody.”

“Ah,” the old woman sniffed. “Corruption. Caffeine kickbacks. Luxury beans.”

Sasha smiled. “You get the picture.” She sniffed, smelled liquor on the air, and then glanced down at Mrs. Clark’s coffee cup. Well, that was one way to start the day. “Anyway, I just want to ask you to go over what you told the officers.”

“Like I said, I saw a big animal. Dog, maybe? Called you people. By the time they arrived, the animal was gone.”

“You called the police because of a dog?”

The woman bristled. “This wasn’t just any dog. It was huge. Had a big bushy tail, and a snout as long as a longneck. Never seen anything like it round here. It looked like a wolf.”

“A number of people own big dogs around here.”

“Yeah, well this wasn’t one of those.”

“Okay,” Sasha said. She looked to her side, and saw the road already shimmering with heat. “Anything else?”

“Nope.”

“Nothing? So you saw or heard nothing within the last two hours or so?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Are you sure about that, Mrs. Clark?”

“There was a man. I think he was jogging.”

Sasha widened her eyes. Why the hell hadn’t she said so in the first place? “When?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You know, I lose track of the time.”

“But this was after you saw the large dog?”

“Yes.” The woman nodded slowly. “I think so.”

Sasha’s temper strained against its leash. “Okay. Why didn’t you tell the officers this?”

“I didn’t think it was important.”

“Mrs. Clark,” Sasha said. She took a breath. “Never mind. Anyway, so you saw a man jogging after you saw the dog. I presume this was also after the police came and left?”

“I would presume so, too.”

Sasha blinked. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Clark. So you saw the man after the police came and left?”

“Didn’t I just say that, dear? Sorry, I’m a little tired. I haven’t slept all night, you see.”

“That’s okay. Don’t worry. So this man, what did he look like?”

“Big fella. Tall. Black hair. He was jogging. He jogged right past my window.”

Sasha took out her pad. “Was his hair short or long?”

“Couldn’t really tell, it was dark. Maybe shoulder-length?”

“What kind of clothing was he wearing?”

“You know, I actually think he was wearing nothing at all.”

Sasha frowned. “He was jogging n***d?”

The woman leaned against the doorframe, and Sasha noticed her hand was trembling a little. “You know what these new age kids are like. They’re all naturalists now. Modern hippies. The world is cyclical, you know?”

Sasha narrowed her eyes, but didn’t say anything.

“He was definitely barefoot; I saw the soles of his feet. He was n***d, too! Yes, yes, I’m sure of it. I think. No, yes.”

“Okay,” Sasha said, nodding. “So he was possibly n***d. Could he have been wearing shorts?”

“You know,” Mrs. Clark said, and she pinched her two fingers together and narrowed her eyes. “I really don’t think so. A n***d person jogging is, after all, something you don’t fail to notice. I’m not that old yet, dear. No, no… not that old.”

“Right,” Sasha finished scribbling down the description in her pad. She allowed herself a small grin. “Anything else?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“Okay.” Sasha wrote down her mobile number on a page of her pad, and tore it out. “This is my number. If you think of anything else, call me immediately, okay?”

“Okay, detective. If I might ask, what exactly has happened in there?” She jerked her head toward the Kinnear residence. “The two policemen didn’t tell me anything. They just told me to stay inside.”

Sasha sighed. “There’s been a death.”

“Oh no. Was it Mr. Kinnear?”

“Yes, unfortunately. Do you work, Mrs. Clark?”

“Gosh, no. Not for years, darling.”

“Have you got to go out today?”

“No.”

“Then stay inside and keep your doors and windows locked.”

“Why? Am I in danger?”

Sasha found the question funny. “This is Salty Springs, Mrs. Clark. You should always be locking your doors and windows.” She pointed at the piece of paper with her number that she’d given the woman. “Call me if you think of anything.”

She left then, and began walking over to Mr. Sands’ house, wondering if he’d changed out of his robe.