While Emory talked to his dad on the phone, Jeff vomited in the kitchen sink. The room reeked of the sickly scent of burned rotting meat and hair. Jeff splashed his face with water and dried it with a paper towel. “God, that smell,” he exclaimed with wretched vehemence.
Emory hung up his phone. “They’re on the way. Are you okay?”
Jeff threw the wet towel into the sink. “I’m fine. I’ve just never smelled burning flesh before. Shaking his head in disbelief, he pointed at Rick Roberts’ body. “That right there is without a doubt the freakiest shit I have ever seen in my life!”
“I agree.”
“Why aren’t you freaking out about this?”
Emory squatted to take another look at the charred torso. “What exactly do you want me to do?”
Jeff shrugged. “I guess what you’re doing.” He squatted beside him and covered his nose with his forearm.
Emory pointed to just above Rick’s melted belt. “I first saw the fire there. It just exploded out of his stomach like in Alien.”
“Yeah, at the stomach. Do you think it’s something he ate?”
They both turned to the glass of ice tea on the counter. Emory rose and pointed his palms to opposite sides of the room. “I need to get a sample of everything in this kitchen.”
“I’ll help you.”
“No, I have to maintain chain of custody. You’re not authorized to handle evidence.”
Jeff’s eyes sprung wide open, and he pointed an accusing finger at a small slash of red on Emory’s jawline. “Oh my god, I think you got some Rick on you.”
“What?” Emory touched it and realized it wasn’t tissue from the victim. “It’s just a cut. I probably got it when I tackled Britt’s ex-boyfriend at the high school earlier.”
“You tackled him?”
“He was running.”
“From what?”
Fearing he was just fishing for information, Emory decided not to elaborate further. He held his hands over Rick’s body. “Let’s stick to the situation at hand.”
“Fine.”
“I need to take pictures of the body before my dad gets here.”
“Why’s that?”
“Long story.” Emory started snapping photos with his phone. He then flapped his jacket to get some air to his body. “Man, it’s hot in here.”
Jeff gasped. “You’re not going to flame up on me, are you?”
“Don’t even kid about that. Listen, when Wayne gets here—”
“The dog,” Jeff blurted out as if he were the first to answer an unasked question.
“What about it?” Emory asked before realizing the direction Jeff was heading with the statement. “Someone shot the dog to break in here and poisoned something Rick ate or drank.”
Jeff pointed at the kitchen door. “Wouldn’t really have to break in. Whoever it was probably crawled through that doggy door.”
Emory inspected the door. “It would have to be someone kind of small.”
“No it wouldn’t. Your spatial recognition is off.” Jeff removed his coat and handed it to Emory to hold.
“What are you doing?”
“Showing you I can fit through there.”
“No!” Emory pushed the coat back into Jeff’s arms. “This is a crime scene. There could be fingerprints on it. Don’t touch anything!”
“You’re right. Sorry.”
Waving his hand in front of his face, Wayne shuffled into the kitchen. “Good god! That smell.” He stopped waving and pulled the flap of his coat up to his nose.
Sheriff Rome entered with two deputies following behind. His eyes dropped to Rick’s body. “Oh dear lord. That poor soul. First Britt, and now her coach is dead too.”
“Both burned,” added Wayne.
The sheriff nodded. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of this being a coincidence.”
“I don’t think so, Dad.”
Jeff told Emory, “It looks like you have everything under control here. I’ll be off.”
“I’m glad you were here. I don’t think anyone would’ve believed me if I had been alone with him when this happened.” After Jeff left, Emory told the deputies, “We need samples of everything edible in the house. Also, there’s a dead dog in the backyard that we’ll need to examine. He was shot, so find that bullet. And let’s dust everything for fingerprints, including the doggy door.”
Sheriff Rome said, “I’ll call Judge Harper to get a search warrant.” After making a phone call, the sheriff asked a deputy to pick up the warrant. “Emory, what happened here?”
Emory recounted every detail from the moment he walked into Rick’s house to the last wisp of smoke curling up from his dead body. Afterwards, they all theorized about Rick’s death until the deputy returned with the warrant, at which point, the evidence-gathering began. The sheriff and deputies took care of the bodies, while Emory and Wayne walked around the house for any clues about Rick’s life that might explain his death.
Emory knew that key clues often hide like a walking stick in a cedar tree. You couldn’t always see them at first glance, so he had gotten into the habit of photographing everything related to a crime scene, even cursory items. At the moment, Emory was snapping pictures on his phone of everything in the bedroom, whether they seemed important or not. Inside the walk-in closet, he found a shelf cluttered with trophies and medals – all won by Rick when he was a young ice skater – and he wondered why he didn’t have them on display. When he came out of the closet, he saw Wayne poking around the bedroom. “I meant to ask, did you find anything in Dan Claymon’s records?”
Wayne shrugged as he began opening drawers in the dresser. “Nothing major. Some vandalism.”
Sheriff Rome popped his head in the door. “We found the bullet.”
Emory peered up from his phone. “That’s excellent.”
“Everything is being loaded into my deputy’s SUV, and then he’ll head to Knoxville. Are you guys finished?”
Wayne approached the door. “I think that’s it.”
“All right then.” The sheriff jerked his head to the left in a signal for them to leave. “I posted some crime tape on the back door, and I need to do the same with the front.”
“Emory, aren’t you coming?” Wayne asked.
Noticing several framed pictures on the dust-covered dresser top, Emory snapped some quick photos. “Coming.”
The three exited the house, and as the sheriff taped the door, Wayne looked to the sky. “It’s getting late. We should call it a day.”
“You’re coming over tonight, right?” asked Sheriff Rome.
Emory sighed and shook his head. “I can’t tonight.”
The sheriff frowned at his son. “You said you would.”
“I wasn’t definite. Besides, I didn’t bring a change of clothes.”
“You got a bunch of clothes in your room. We haven’t thrown anything out.”
Wayne took his partner aside. “Emory, give me your keys. I’ll drive home tonight and see you in the morning.”
“I need to go home.”
“No, you don’t.” Wayne put a hand on his shoulder. “Stay with your dad. You should hear him talk about you. He misses you.”
“Fine.” Emory handed him the keys.