bobby
I was not prepared for the next crime scene, especially since my father and I both knew the victim.
“Shit! It’s Dane’s mom!” I exclaimed, holding my hand over my face. I was going to vomit, not because I was grossed out. But because of the shock.
She lay in the claw foot bath of the upmarket bed and breakfast. Dane’s mom’s eyes were open and fixed, and a knife was protruding from her chest. But that wasn’t what was odd about this murder.
It was the fact that she was missing one of her feet.
“Looks like it’s been cut off,” said my dad. “The cut is neat but shows saw marks,” he explained, pointing out the teeth marks on the bone with his pen.
I could feel bile rising. Yes, I was going to be sick.
“Excuse me,” I gasped as I bolted for the door of the small room. I upended the contents of my dinner into a nearby potted plant.
“Bobby? Are you okay?” called my dad, coming to the door.
I stayed bent over the potted plant, gasping in mouthfuls of air.
“Poor Dane.”
Dad signed. “I know, bud. I know. She was a lovely lady. So was Dr Mendelen. I promise we’ll get the bastard that did this.”
I stood back up, feeling slightly better and turned to face my father with a vengeance in my eyes. Tears burned there, too.
“I’m gonna kill him,” I said.
He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Now, Son. Let’s do this the right way. Promise me that you kids won’t take this into your own hands. Let the authorities handle it.”
Tears flowed now, and I ran into his arms and sobbed.
“I know. But it’s different when this affects my friends and… the man I love.”
“I know, Bob. I know. It’s okay. We’ll get him. I promise.” He held me, patting my hair. In my father’s arms, I stayed like that for a long while, relishing the feeling of holding my parent, knowing that one of my best friends wouldn’t have that anymore.