By Eurielle
Please do not copy or post to another site. Thank you. Enjoy reading.
A cold two-fifty-six past midnight. In the dead of the night wherein nearby townhouses' lights are extinguished, a lone person walks the snow-covered Main Street. The closed shops' wall lanterns give a warm glow. The snow has receded since yesterday, but one still needs to carefully trudge due to concerns of falls and broken bones.
The person, a man, wears a huge, black leather trench coat and black knitted gloves. Around his neck is a navy blue knitted scarf. A black mask covers his mouth and nose. He has a monocle over his right eye that glints under the street lights.
He stands about six feet and three inches tall. He must have had a big stride before he hurt his left leg. Now, he's just a limping man with a wooden cane.
Silently, he leaves his rainboots prints, easily covered by the gentlest snowfall. Once in a while, he pauses and looks at the moonless sky. Only the dim twinkle of the streetlights shines his path. Still, he continues.
He's been walking straight down the street for about fifteen minutes when he turns into an alleyway.
An ear-piercing shriek wakes the small downtown at around four-thirty-eight. The horrified screams continue until several townspeople from nearby townhouses gather. There are those irritated for having their sleep halted, but most are concerned.
Jessica Powell, the manager at Amelia's, a small coffee shop in the downtown area, arrives at her job early in the dawn to work on some paperwork before other employees arrive for prep. The shop consistently opens at seven and they start preparing as early as five. As always, she leisurely treks the ten-minute walk from the parking building to the shop, hugging herself with her windbreaker to keep the cold wind away.
Turning to the alleyway where the side door to the employees' lockers is, a terrifying sigh greets her. There, from inside the big communal garbage bin hands two shoes connected to a pair of slacks. At first, she thinks it's a trick, a prank from one of the teenagers in town, but the pool of blood covering the snow and the severed head atop a supposed snowman says otherwise. She has the bad luck to actually meet the still open eyes of the dead man.
The "snowman" has a navy blue knitted scarf, twigs for arms, and black knitted gloves for hands. It's situated between the hanging legs and feet. Next to it is a wooden cane.
A chill not from the morning frost runs across her spine and she feels a cold sweat pooling on her back. Her loud screams wake the neighborhood, especially those who are living in the townhouses just across the street.
Jessica is still in shock when the police ushered her inside the now open coffee shop. One of her employees who arrived five minutes after the ordeal makes her hot cocoa which she cannot drink because it reminds her of the blood she saw earlier. One of the crowd calls the local police department and police cars arrive at the scene not even five minutes later.
Although the shop is open, it's certainly isn't open for business. A burly officer approaches, "I know you're in shock, but may I ask some questions, Miss?"
Jessica looks blankly at him. However, Sherry, the shop's cashier, brings her out of her stupor by holding her right lower arm. Jessica lowers her head, then nods.
"My name is James. Kennedy James," he introduces. "I'm an investigator. Can you please tell me if you know the victim?"
Jessica processes the question, then shakes her head.
"Then, do you know why he was murdered next to your coffee shop?"
Again, she shakes her head.
After a moment of silence, Officer James asks, "Why are you out so early in the morning?"
With that, Jessica lifts her head and looks him in the eye. "Officer, I haven't seen you here before. Are you new?"
"Huh?" Confused with the sudden inquisitive question, Officer James answers, "Well, yes. I'm an officer from the city. Now, please tell me why you're-"
"Officer," Sherry interrupts. "I don't think Miss Jessica can answer you right now. She's clearly shocked and traumatized. As for your question, Miss Jessica is the manager of our coffee shop. She comes earlier than the rest of us other employees because she has the key to the shop and she usually starts doing paperwork before we come in."
Sherry is a bit protective of Jessica because the latter is the one who offers her the job. She's the best manager.
"Oh, I see. Well, since I can't get anything from her right now, we'll talk again later," he turns around and walks to his fellow officers.
"Everything will be alright, Miss Jessica," Sherry comforts her. Jessica nods in response.
"Jessica! Jessica!" Mrs. Sudnerson frantically calls out as she enters the coffee shop from the entrance.
Jessica, who continues to gaze at the distance after Sherry leaves her when she asks to be alive, turns to her boss. She cannot stop her tears when she sees the older lady.
Mrs. Sunderson is a sixty-eight years old widow who lives in a big Victorian-style family home. The coffee shops have been in her family since the town's founding. At first, it wasn't a coffee shop but just a bakery. However, when Mrs. Sunderson went on a European trip in the nineties, she realized she enjoyed the coffee shops she'd been to, especially the ones in France and Italy. Right away, she studied and learned all the tricks to having a successful coffee shop. She is the manager until three years ago. Before that, she taught Jessica all she knows about managing and creating tasty coffee and aromatic bread.
Mrs. Sudnerson puts Jessica in her arms, and Jessica welcomes it. "My child, I've heard what happen. Tell me, how are you feeling?"
Jessica shakes her head. "Mrs., it's very traumatizing. I cannot forget his eyes... Mrs., his eyes were terrifying. Although I should be very sorry for him for he's the victim, the sight of his severed head and shocked, fearful eyes gives me so much fright. I don't think I can ever sleep peacefully again."
Officer James hears this and he walks over. "Madam, you are? He looks at the older lady.
"I am this shop's owner, officer. The name's Sunderson. Mikaela Sunderson. Please call me Ela," she says kindly. While still holding Jessica's hands, she looks the officer in the eye. "Please, sir, tell me, are there any ways I can help you?"
"James," He introduces and continues, "Then," he brings out the photo of the severed head. "Do you know the victim?"
"Oh my!" Mrs. Sunderson breathes, hands on her chest. Jessica, herself, closes her eyes. "Officer, how dare you bring out this photograph right in front of Jessica. Don't you think she's traumatized enough?"
Officer James has the face to feel ashamed. Chastised, he says, "My apologies. But, um, have you seen this man before?"
"Of course not," Mrs. Sunderson looks over the photograph after making sure Jessica cannot see it. Her face is terrified, but she manages her composure very well. "This town is a close-knit community... even I have never seen you before, Officer."
"The dispatch sent everyone, including the officers from the city, when a dead body was mentioned," Officer James replies. "In addition, I'm an investigator handling the case."
"Well, since this person is a stranger to us, you might as well talk to the local hotels, inns, and motels. Even the lone B and B might have an answer... unless he's somebody else's relative from the outside," Mrs. Sunderson advises Officer James who nods and writes down the information.
"Thanks, Madam," he salutes. He leaves the front door before turning around and approaching them again. "I'm sorry. One moment, I noticed some cameras outside the shop, if possible, can you pull up the video recordings from between midnight and now?"
Mrs. Sunderson glares at him then calls out to Henry, a waiter, "Henry!"
The young man hurries, "Mrs. Sunderson?"
"Help Officer James with the camera monitors." Then at Officer James, "Please go with Henry here to the back. The monitors for the cameras are inside Jessica's office."
"Yes, ma'am," Henry quickly nods and ushers the officer to the back.
Mysteriously, even with the recorded video of the murder, the investigators cannot determine who's the murderer. No, it's not because the video recordings are grainy. Contrarily, they're very sharp and clear. The problem is no one can identify the suspect because he is covered all over.
The good news - the victim has been identified. He's an outsider who happened to be in town for the night. He checked in at Sunflower Fields Inn B and B, the only bed and breakfast in town, around five, almost six, in the afternoon. According to people he interacted with, mainly those who have been in the B and B and local pub, the man had an official business in Saywood City, the nearest city from their own Lily Creek Town. The city, about 350 miles further northeast, is a seaport city historically known for being one of the first cities in the country. Although it is an old city, it's still bustling and continues to grow because of the booming construction businesses.
The victim, George McIntosh, was an engineer from Gould City, a border city in the south, who was looking for a contractor. Because he found Saywood City's construction business reliable and efficient, he traveled north to negotiate a contract for a farmhouse he wanted to build in the south. He decided to stay the night at the next town's B and B when darkness engulfed the sky during his travel.
Those who saw him say he eats at the family diner, Nana's Cajun Flavors, then went to the local pub, The Garage. The pub closes exactly at midnight every day. Coincidentally, it is situated across from the parking building where Jessica always parks. The B and B are on the other side of Main Street, near the local neighborhood houses. From the pub, it takes thirty minutes to forty-five minutes on foot.
The mystery is that some locals saw McIntosh leaving the pub at around nine. Another local says he saw McIntosh walking past the alleyway and hitching a ride with Uncle William, Auntie Betsy's husband. Both of them are the caretakers of B and B who live locally and across Sunflower Fields Inn. The last person to see him was Gretel, a woman who stayed in the B and B. According to her account of the story, she was in the living room when McIntosh entered the inn. She couldn't sleep that night and opted to have decaffeinated tea before going to bed. She said, "McIntosh waved me goodnight mentioning an early morning drive and needing rest. I was in the living room until around one. I didn't see him or anyone coming down the stairs. There was one occasion where I went to the downstairs powder room because I needed to pee. I think I was there for five, six minutes? Maybe longer than that..."
When asked why she's in the powder room for so long, Gretel raised her brow and answered, "I was engaged with the video I was watching and ended up sitting on the toilet for quite some time. So what? Afterward, I went upstairs to my room to go to sleep."
There is a possibility that during the time she's in the powder room, McIntosh slipped out. But why would he do that if he needed his sleep? No one can answer.
A six-foot, three-inches tall man treks a relatively empty woody area in his leather trench coat and wooden cane. His limps are still prominent, but considering he can safely walk the snow-covered street, the trek, which goes high and low depending on the slope, is as easy as pie to him.
He hauls a full and heavy garbage bag across his living room into the kitchen. His hunting is successful. He makes sure he cuts through flesh and bones cleanly and stores the meat in the freezer in the garage. It takes him a long while, but he feels satisfied.
Celebrating, he cooks the meat steak style and brings it outside. He decides to enjoy his coffee and steak as he welcomes the morning light. He smiles.
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