Goose Chase

Copyright © 2017 Shawn Doyle.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-5320-2079-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-2080-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-2081-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017905376

iUniverse rev. date: 05/19/2017

Contents

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About the Author

1

It was a quiet Wednesday morning just before sunrise. The beach was deserted except for a lone figure, six feet tall with dark hair in a military cut and forty years young. He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. James O’Conner sat on the sand and looked out over the water, watching the breaking waves. He loved to start his days alone on the beach, as it never failed to bring him peace and tranquility before a hard day of work. Not to mention that it helped him to collect his thoughts.

The sun poked up its head over the horizon, shining like a rose-colored beam of light that brightened the morning skies. The sight brought a smile to his face as he thought back to that meaningful day when he met Sara on this very beach. He’d been building a sand castle for the annual competition. The thought reminded him, This year’s sand castle competition is only a few weeks away. The beach was always packed during this time, which meant it would not be his alone in the early mornings for much longer. Every year, the town brought in a huge mountain of sculpture sand so everyone in the competition had enough for their creations. The day he met Sara, James had been constructing a giant dolphin, and she had been crafting a giant sea turtle in the plot next to him. When she asked to borrow his bucket, James was more than happy to lend it to her, as well as his shovel or anything she wanted—even his heart. Sara was a twenty-eight-year-old woman with long blonde hair that floated in the sea breeze like gentle ocean waves. Her skin looked as if it had been kissed by the sun. How could he ever say no to her?

Sometime during the night, someone destroyed James’s dolphin sculpture. When he arrived the next morning, he saw Sara bent over his sandpile attempting to mend and reshape it for him. He chuckled to himself as he remembered what he had said to her that day, the cheesy pickup line that had come out of his mouth. In the end, though, it didn’t matter how bad he thought it sounded, because they were married a few years later.

Leave it, James had said with no remorse, thinking how sweet it was of her to try to repair it.

Together we can still fix it, and you can remain in the competition! Sara pleaded, but James didn’t care.

The competition is not that important to me, he’d said with a smile. I only enter so I can spend all day on the beach… and meet people like you. He smiled while in his head he berated himself for using such a sad excuse for a pickup line. Besides, you need to work on your sea turtle if you plan on winning the contest.

Well, in that case, let’s leave your… What were you building anyway? It looked like a whale.

A dolphin, James said, blushing. Well, that’s what I was attempting to make.

It looked more like a humpback whale to me. Sara laughed. Would you like to help me with my sea turtle? I could use the extra help. I mean, if you are going to give up on yours, why not join me on my sea turtle? We could be partners as long as you promise me not to turn it into a whale.

Partners sounded so good to James that he didn’t respond; he just dropped all his gear at the head of the huge sea turtle and went to work. They didn’t win that year, but Sara didn’t care, because she spent her time on the beach in good company.

On the final day of the competition, they went to look at the winning sculpture. There was a huge crowd gathered with people taking photos and admiring it. James and Sara finally were able to reach the front of the crowd, and when they saw the winning sculpture, they smiled and then laughed with each other.

James looked over at the man who won standing next to his preteen daughter. When the man saw James, he winked. James nodded and walked back to the sea turtle that Sara and he had built. Very proud of it, he sat down and rested on the huge shell. Sara sat in front of him so they were facing each other.

A whale? he said.

Um, James, I think it’s a killer whale.

Either way, I would love to bury that guy in the sand for destroying my dolphin.

Sara laughed. That’s not nice; besides, he has a young daughter. It’s good that they won.

James reached over and put his hand on her sandy left foot. Yeah, it’s all good, but it just makes me wonder… was my dolphin destroyed because they thought my ‘whale’ was better than theirs? He nodded toward the winning father-and-daughter team. James picked up Sara’s foot and placed it on his chest, rubbing off the sand. Sara leaned back on the sand and placed her other foot on his chest as well.

What does it matter? Win or lose, we both learned a lot and had fun doing it together. Sara wiggled her toes in his hands.

They had so much fun that they agreed to enter every year and just have fun, win or lose. So every year in late January, they sat down together to draw up plans for their sand castle. One year it was a castle with a real moat and a driftwood drawbridge; another year it was a park bench. That year, when they arrived early at the beach, they found a homeless person lying in a pile of sand that had been their bench sculpture. Trying not to laugh at the picture it presented, they just shook their heads and wandered off.

Well, I do hope it was more comfortable than the real benches, Sara had said and giggled.

Interrupting his memories of that day, his cell phone vibrated to life. James here.

James, you’d better get to the center of town.

What is it?

We got a DOA here.

Damn, and so the day begins, James thought to himself. Okay, put up the tarps before the press gets there. I’m on my way. As he stood up, he took one last look at the ocean’s waves breaking with their whitecaps and turning into foam. He brushed off the sand and walked to his car. His peaceful day was over.

When James arrived at the site, the first thing he saw was the statue in the center of the town’s only traffic circle. The statue depicted an angel with her arms wide open, as if she were giving the town a hug. There were also a couple of benches and a gazebo within the circle. With all the police tape around the angel, it looked as if she were saying, What happened here? James went under the police tape and found Officer Cody Webber.

What do we have here, Cody?

If you ask me, the dude looks like a fucking leprechaun.

What do you mean a leprechaun?

Well, he’s dressed in all green from his head to his… well, uh, to his ankles would be the best way to put it.

James walked over and saw what Cody had been trying to say. The body was lying faceup on the ground in front of the angel. He was dressed in a green turtleneck under a green button-down jacket. He also wore green knickers and green tights, which were cut off at the ankles so he was barefoot. There was a sword through his chest in the area of his heart and a tag around his right big toe.

I guess we can rule out suicide. Cody, does our John Doe have any ID?

He had no ID. The only thing we found was the toe tag. I guess you can say the killer left us his calling card.

James had no idea what Cody meant until he read the tag on the body’s toe:

Sorry, Hector. I just don’t like the fact that you wear all green.

Okay, let’s see if there were any witnesses around. You can’t stab a sword into someone’s chest in the middle of town and not be seen. Cody, also run the name Hector through the missing person log.

Sure thing, but by the darkness of the dried blood, I would guess Hector was here early this morning. There’s a chance it was still dark. So whoever did this would have seen headlights coming and easily stayed out of view of any witnesses.

Other officers had arrived and were taking tarps out of the trunks of their cruisers.

Yeah, you’re probably right, but we still need to try to find witnesses, Cody. Get him to the morgue; I want an autopsy done as soon as possible.

Uh, why an autopsy, boss? It’s kind of obvious how he died… death by sword.

Maybe, but how did the killer get the victim here to stab him with the sword? I’m hoping the autopsy will give us some help in figuring this out. As James said this, the local media arrived. Shit, Cody, help those officers get the tarps up! I don’t want the press to shoot photos of the body. James turned and walked toward the news van that was pulling up, hoping to stall the press while the area was blocked off.

As he neared the van, a female reporter jumped out before the engine was even off. Hurry up. They saw us and are putting up the tarps. I want to get a shot before it’s too late, she told the driver. James immediately took in all the details of the reporter: she was about five feet eight with shoulder-length, slightly curly brown hair, and she wore a blue-flowered dress with sneakers. She had heavy black eyeliner around her blue eyes and wore flaming-red lipstick. Hi there, Detective, she said to James with a wide smile. My name is Samantha Berube, and I’m with Channel 9 local news. Why all the tarps?

The tarps are standard operating procedure. We don’t want the town to see what we have found. I will be happy to answer any questions you may have; however, my answers may be vague until more information is available.

All right then… Detective, Samantha purred, let’s start with the obvious: Who, what, when, and how?

Who—we don’t know yet. He had no identification on him. But as you know, if he had identification, I could not tell you who he is at this time. He appears to be in his early forties. When did it happen? We are not sure of the exact time. What happened? We are not ready to release that information to the public. We will have a press conference later in the day as more information comes to light.

Well, Detective, I guess you were right. You are vague with the details, Samantha said, pouting. You left out the how. Can you at least tell me that?

It appears he was stabbed in the chest, in the area of his heart, with a sword.

Samantha huffed, It appears! What do you mean ‘appears’? Either he has a sword in his chest or not. It’s one or the other, don’t you think, Detective?

We are not sure if the stab wound is the cause of death. Only after an autopsy will we know for sure.

Abruptly she turned toward the van, yelling, Damn it, David, there’s a girl over there with a camera. Go get her; I want to talk with her.

David, her cameraman, grabbed his camera, turned, and, with a quick look of disgust at Samantha, ran over to the girl. Hey there! My name is David West from Channel 9 news. Mind if I ask you a few questions?

Hi, David, you can ask me anything you’d like.

Well, let’s start with the basics: What’s your name? Are you a reporter, and if so, who do you work for? David really wanted to ask if she was single, but he had a job to do, and Samantha would chew his head off if she found out.

The girl smiled and said, My name is Camryn Angel. I’d like to think of myself as a reporter, an independent reporter, hoping someone will discover my talent. So I guess that means I work for myself. Camryn was a very attractive twenty-one-year-old with straight brown hair that reached just past her shoulder blades. She had big blue, innocent eyes and ivory skin that looked as soft as silk. She was wearing a denim miniskirt and a black Dirt rock-band T-shirt with flip-flops on her feet, showing off her freshly painted pink toenails.

Thanks, David. I got it from here, Samantha chimed in. She pushed David out of the way, causing him to stumble. So, sweetie, I see you have a camera. What are you taking pictures of? Did you get any of the dead body? If so, I’m willing to buy your film for a very nice price.

A little disappointed, Camryn hung her head. Well, if I took any pictures that you would be interested in, I would never sell them to you. And, by the way, there is no film; I use a digital camera—

Samantha interrupted snottily, "You will never make it as a reporter if you are not willing to make sacrifices, dear. Let’s go, David." Samantha stormed off, and David followed like a lost puppy.

Wow, what a bitch, Camryn thought.

David, get over there in front of the tarps, and get set up. I want to get a feed for the news. He got into position and started filming. This is Samantha Berube, your ace reporter, here at the scene of a murder at the town traffic circle. The police have not released any details as of yet. The only information they were able to give us so far is that the male victim is approximately forties years old. I was informed that there will be a press conference later today. We will keep you updated as new information breaks.

James walked up to Camryn. Hello, miss. Mind if I ask you a few questions? He opened his notepad.

Not at all, Detective. My name is Camryn Angel. What would you like to know?

Why were you out here with your camera, and did you happen to see who killed that man?

I’m an independent reporter looking for stories. I come to the middle of town a lot in hopes of finding a story. But I don’t have a police scanner like her. Camryn looked over and wrinkled her nose at Samantha, who was doing her report. So I have to be persistent and very lucky. Today paid off for me. When I got here, I saw a man over there—she pointed toward the ground in front of the statue, letting James know she meant the dead body—and then I saw someone drive away on the other side of the circle. It was too dark to make out any details though. I’m sorry, Detective.

That’s okay. I understand. What time was it when that occurred? Did you see the man get into a car, a truck, or a van? Which way did the vehicle go?

I got here just as the sun was rising. I remember looking at the pretty rose-colored skies, and when I looked toward the center of town, I saw someone running. I’m not sure if it was a man or woman who got into a truck. It looked like one of those bread trucks. It headed east, away from me, so I never really saw the truck or the license plate clearly. I guess that was around 5:00 a.m.

Thank you, Miss Angel. Your information will be very helpful. Did you take any pictures of the body? If you did, may I see them? You might have caught something important in the pictures.

I took two pictures before I placed the call to 911. I need to develop the film, which I do myself; that way no one steals my stories, Camryn said with a smile. Once I develop them, you are more than welcome to take a look at them.

You need to develop the film? Your camera looks like a digital one. Don’t you just send the pictures to the computer and print them out? I can look at them on your computer if that’s better for you. I don’t really need them printed out.

Okay, Detective, you got me. She laughed. I should have known that the police would know about cameras. It’s a Nikon digital D2H camera. I can get my laptop and be back here in less than ten minutes. My computer is in my car.

Thank you. That will be very helpful. James was truly thankful for all the tips Camryn had given him. He walked back to where Cody was hovering over the victim. Why is the body still here? There will be a lot of traffic soon, and I want this area back to normal.

We are waiting for the EMTs, Cody said. But hey, look at this. He and James knelt down, and James had a lost look on his face. Then he looked up to the sky and shook his head as if to say, I don’t get it. Look at his clothes. They look cheap—I mean, like a costume—and how did he get these crumbs on his chest?

Well, maybe he has a low budget for his wardrobe. I don’t think the crumbs are a big issue, but bag them and send them to forensics anyway. Maybe they will be hungry later. James laughed, and Cody joined in. Ah, the EMTs are here, please get this body out of here.

Oh, boss? Susan at dispatch wanted me to give you a portable radio.

Thanks, Cody.

Detective O’Conner? It was Camryn, back with her laptop. James walked to the edge of the police tape, as Camryn did not have clearance to cross it. I just need to download them. It will only take a minute or two. Sorry about the whole developing thing; it’s just, being an independent reporter, I wanted time with my photos before anyone else saw them.

I understand and respect you for your concern, James said, using his bad imitation of Columbo, but keep in mind, ma’am, I am with the police and not lookin’ to steal yah stories.

Camryn chuckled. I know, which is why I agreed to show you my photos at the same time as I see them. She placed her laptop on the trunk of a police cruiser.

Oh goodie, we are finally going to see the rookie’s photos. Look out, love. Make room for the pros. Samantha pushed Camryn out of the way so she could be right in front of the laptop.

Hey! Camryn yelled. What the hell do you think you’re doing? Everyone turned to see what the commotion was all about. James grabbed the computer and took it with him into the cordoned-off police area.

Miss Angel, will you follow me please? Camryn ducked under the tape and joined James. You need to be careful with what you say around certain members of the press, or they might cut your head off and serve it to you on a silver platter, figuratively speaking of course. He looked over at Samantha, who crossed her arms and stamped her foot like a spoiled brat.

Thanks, I will keep that in mind, Camryn said, giving Samantha a smug look.

There will be a press conference at one o’clock today. We will give you whatever details we can at that time. James turned to Cody. "Please make sure Ms. Berube does not enter the taped area."

Thank you, Detective. Camryn smiled.

You’re welcome, Miss Angel. There are two reasons why I did this: one, I don’t want the public to know what we have here until we figure out what we really have; and two, as a police officer I am sworn to protect the innocent, and in this case that’s you. Your photos are your photos, and I promise I will not let someone steal them from you. That is exactly what Samantha would have done if she saw them. Together they walked over to and sat down on a bench by the gazebo. James handed the laptop back to Camryn. Okay, let’s have a look at the pictures now. Camryn opened her laptop and turned it on; it hummed to life. She plugged her camera into the laptop and transferred the photos. That’s a nice camera, Camryn. James observed.

Thanks. When my dad died, I got a small inheritance. I thought if anyone was to take me seriously as a reporter, I should have a good camera, although I would rather have bought some shoes instead. She chuckled.

Shoes would have been good, said James as he looked at Camryn’s feet. A nice pair of shoes would be better than flip-flops and pink nail polish.

I know. I was thinking of going to the beach; that’s why I wore my flip-flops today. The photos appeared on the laptop screen, and they both looked closely to see if they could pick out any clues. The first photo that came up showed the gazebo in the rose sunlight. The flower shop and bakery were in the background. There was a bread truck in front of the bakery, which blocked the storefront. It was too dark to read anything on the truck, but it looked like there was a light on inside the bakery. The fact that the A La Carte Bakery has the best baked goods James has ever eaten popped into his head.

The second photo was a side shot of the gazebo and the statue. A sword was sticking out of the ground in front of the statue. The body lying on the grass could not be seen; the body and grass just seemed to all blend in. James looked in the background and saw a silhouette of a person at the back of the bread truck.

Camryn, can you zoom in so we can see the bread truck better?

Sure. She zoomed in on the picture so they could see the back of the bread truck. That’s as far as I can zoom in because that was not what I was shooting. The picture is all blurry.

That’s okay. We had to give it a try. Looking over at Cody, James yelled out, Cody, drive around and try to find a bread truck. If you find one, ask if they were here at the bakery around five o’clock or earlier this morning.

Sure thing. Cody nodded and left. James looked back to where the body was and noticed it had been removed. The remaining officers were cleaning up the site before rush hour began. Camryn, I want you to go home and print out those photos. Enlarge them the best you can, and call me when you have them, please. He handed her his business card.

Okay, I will do my best, Detective. I live close by, so it may take only twenty minutes or so. Camryn packed up her computer and headed home.

With his thoughts now on the delicious treats at the A La Carte Bakery, Detective O’Conner headed in that direction. Given the detective’s slim, fit build, no one would guess that he sure loved his sweets. He saw several pigeons and seagulls picking at crumbs on the sidewalk to the right of the bakery storefront. James scooted them away and picked up some of the crumbs, smelling them. Hmm… gingerbread, he said, tossing them back on the ground.

The bell above the door chimed as he entered. The aroma of the fresh-baked goods filled his senses. Well, hello there, Mrs. Paradise. It’s always nice to see your cheerful smile in the morning.

Oh, Detective, after all this time please call me Caroline. The short older lady behind the counter blushed and straightened her apron. What can I get for you on this lovely morning?

You know me, Caroline; I could never come in here without buying something sweet. Warm up one of those chocolate-filled croissants for me, please, and do you have any of those yummy square cookies Sara loves so much? I can’t go home without those. He smiled at her as he handed over his debit card. Any chance your husband is around?

Nope, he’s out doing deliveries. I’ll tell him you dropped by. She put the croissant in the oven. I just took the square cookies out of the oven. Should I box a dozen for you?

Yes please. Sara will be ecstatic.

What’s going on in front of the angel? asked Caroline as she handed James his card and receipt.

Unfortunately, we found a body. It appears he was murdered. What time did you and Rodger get here this morning? I was wondering if maybe one of you might have seen something. James was hoping for more clues.

We get here every morning at three, and we come in the back door, so we never saw out front. Sorry.

We have a picture from a witness of someone closing the back of a truck just in front of your place.

That must have been Rodger. We make breads and pastries for local restaurants and gas stations. He drove the truck to the front around five fifteen to load up the baked goods.

You have birds outside the shop eating gingerbread crumbs on the sidewalk. Do you feed them?

No, Detective, we don’t feed the birds. They smell the baked goods and wait outside, probably hoping we give out free samples. She laughed. But we never feed them; they are a nuisance to us.

All right then, have Rodger give me a call if either of you think of anything unusual that happened while the truck was being loaded. James handed her his card.

Will do, Detective, Caroline said with a smile. Here is your warm croissant and Sara’s cookies.

Thank you, Caroline. You have a good day. James picked up his purchase, left the bakery, and walked over to the angel. He looked up at her and asked softly, What happened here? The area had been all cleaned up, and everything appeared back to normal. The only thing left were the bread crumbs where the body had been. Hmm… more gingerbread crumbs, he thought. James was startled when his phone vibrated in his pocket.

Detective James O’Conner, he said in a firm voice.

James… Oh, sorry, Detective O’Conner, this is Camryn Angel. I have the photos you wanted.

That’s great! Can you meet me at the bench by the gazebo where we sat earlier?

Sure. I’ll be there in five minutes.

James looked up at the angel, with the sun shining on it from the right. How heavenly she looks in the morning sun, he muttered. Then he sat down on the bench and ate his croissant while he waited for Camryn. Several cars drove by, beeping their horns or waving at James, who waved to everyone. He then took a few small pieces of his croissant and tossed them to feed the birds.

That’s littering, ya know. I should call the police on you! Camryn teased with a big, bright smile. She thought it would be best to bring her camera and laptop with her just in case James needed it.

You can call them if you want—James handed her his radio—but I think the evidence would be all gone before they arrived. They both laughed.

What’s in the box, Detective?

Square cookies from the A La Carte Bakery, would you like some?

You bet! I missed breakfast and can use a little sugar to keep me going. Camryn opened the box and grabbed a cookie as she handed an envelope to James. Mmm, these cookies are fantastic. Mind if I have another? She reached and grabbed another cookie from the box.

Help yourself. Just make sure I have a few left, so I can take them home to my wife. James turned his attention to the photos and sighed. I don’t think we will find anything in the photos, just the bread truck and the man you saw. His name is Rodger; he owns the bakery. He and his wife were getting the truck loaded for their morning deliveries.

You cops… oops! Sorry, I meant police; you never miss a beat. Are you always ahead of the press, or is it just because I am new on this reporting stuff?

We try to stay two steps ahead of the press and only tell them one step. Like the ‘always have an ace in the hole’ theory. James scratched his head as he looked over the photos. Hmm, that’s interesting.

What? Did you find something?

Well, I’m not sure. Do you think we could get a better close-up of the bakery on the laptop?

Sure, we can give it a try. Camryn pulled out her laptop. While it booted up, she looked at James and asked, What did you see?

I think, I mean it’s a possibility, but I think I saw someone running in the shadows just along the bakery wall.

Camryn opened the photo that showed Rodger closing the back of the bread truck. She zoomed in on the side wall, and they both looked over the photo closely.

Ah, see? said James, I was right. You can just barely make out a figure in the dark. That might be our killer.

So what I saw was Rodger closing the truck and driving away. When the killer slipped past the bakery, he made it look like he was going into the truck.

Yes, you connected the two, a common mistake in this line of work.

Well, at least we know that Rodger is clean and we will still be able to get these square cookies! Camryn smiled.

Yes, we now know that Rodger is not our killer, but I still need to talk to him and see if he might have noticed that person in the shadows. I have Officer Webber looking for him now.

Just then the portable radio on James’s belt came to life. Detective O’Conner, it’s Officer Webber. Do you copy?

This is James. Go ahead, Cody.

I think you might want to have a look at this.

Ten-four, Cody. Over and out, James replied.

What was that all about? Camryn asked.

Looks like Cody found something and wants me to join him, James told her as he pulled his cell phone out of his pants pocket.

But you don’t know where he is. Camryn had a confused look on her face.

That’s the point. This way the press can’t find him either. I’ll call him on my cell phone to find out what’s going on. As you know, most reporters have a police scanner; that’s how they get to the scene so fast. By calling him on my cell phone for his location, the press will have a hard time finding us.

Hmm, tricky.

James dialed Cody’s number and waited for him to pick up. What do you have, Cody? Okay, where are you? Were you able to find Rodger Paradise? Okay… Sure, I’m on my way. James put his cell phone back in his pants pocket.

So what’s going on? Camryn asked excitedly.

Officer Webber found the body of a girl behind the elementary school. Let’s go; we can take the Crown Victoria. He gathered his trash and the box of cookies and headed to the car with Camryn following him.

2

The elementary school was in a quiet, southern part of town, away from the busy beach. The large, red brick building was starting to show its age. Vines were growing on the west side of the school, which was a good place for vines to grow, as it was dark and cool. The school comprised kindergarten through sixth grade. Many of the teachers had been teaching longer than they should have, but with no replacements they couldn’t retire. When James and Camryn arrived at the school, they saw a police cruiser sitting in front of the main doors. It was a fire hazard, but with school in session, there was nowhere else to park. James pulled up behind Cody’s cruiser. As he got out of the car, he looked around for Cody, but he was nowhere in sight.

Detective O’Conner! He’s… out back! Please hurry, the students are all scared! a woman cried as she ran out of the school to meet him.

Thank you, Principal Moody. Can you tell me what happened?

It’s Joan McKee. She didn’t show up for school this morning, and no one called to say she would be out today. When the students went out for recess, they found her lying on the ground. We brought the children back inside the school, but they are all still very scared and upset.

Have you tried to contact her parents?

We tried, but we have not been able to reach Joan’s mother yet.

All right, we will get in touch with her for you. Go back inside and take care of the children; try your best to calm them down. James smiled. She nodded and went back inside the school. James and Camryn walked around the side of the building to the back of the school.

How can someone kill a little girl in the middle of the day and get away with it?

It’s simple, Camryn. You heard the principal. She didn’t show up for school, and there was no call saying that she would be out today. That means she was abducted on her way to school, most likely while we were with Hector. After being abducted, she must have been murdered, and once everyone was inside, her body was placed here.

When they got to the back of the school, James looked around. There was a baseball field that James knew well from playing softball on the police team. Their team was playing well this year, followed closely by the press and the city firefighters. Right behind the school, just before a small parking lane, was a playground. That is where they found Officer Webber.

What do you have, Cody? James asked. Camryn started taking photos of the little girl and the surroundings.

We have a young girl; the principal ID’d her as Joan McKee, eight years old. I came to the school to see if the bread truck might have been here. It wasn’t, but the principal saw me and ran out to inform me about the girl.

Okay, Cody, let’s get her body into your car. Go get your car and bring it around back. I don’t want any reporters to get wind of this.

You want me to put her in my car? Why not call for an ambulance?

I would prefer your cruiser because the students are already shaken up over her death. I’m trying to not make the situation any worse than it already is.

Good thinking, James. I will go get the cruiser, but what about her? Isn’t she considered the press? Cody pointed to Camryn.

She’s with me. I will take care of her; just go get your car. Cody left, and James approached Camryn. "Look,