The Death Pond

By Mark C Brown

A small town sherrif investigate a murder which leads back to his wife when she was young. The culprit finds out at the very end who was really killed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mark C Brown
• Release date: Apr 16, 2012
• ISBN: 9780988016736

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THE DEATH POND

Mark C. Brown

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Published by:

Mark C. Brown at Smashwords

Copyright (c) 2012 by Mark C. Brown

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All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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CALISTOGA, CALIFORNIA.

It was dark that night as anybody had ever seen in the valley under the somber hue of the mountains of Calistoga. Car lights were piercing in the dark blue night like laser beams, barely bringing distinctiveness on the twisty narrow dusty road, leaving behind the sleepy country town. The hurried driver was carelessly speeding, wanting only one single thing, to die. The sneaky gravel road was designed for half this speed but, it was a matter of death. She had lost the will to live and no one would change her mind of what she was about to do. Local police officers were following the speeding automobile at a safe distance knowing its inevitable destination. As predicted the female driver briskly swirled the old dusty car up to the right and up the steep hill where her lover was the least expecting visitors.

She pulled in front of the old beat-up farm house, purposely jamming the brakes with a sudden jerk movement, creating a large cloud of dust, adding another layer of grime on to the already decaying building. With winded fury, she dashed through the unlocked crooked door, her face ruffled in anger; she wanted the revenge for the sacrilege that her lover had unashamedly committed. Her boiling anger suddenly subsided by the partial sight of him lying still on the living room floor, partially illuminated by the dancing flames of the burning fireplace, his face was traced of dark crimson blood because her revenge had already been executed by someone else. Her anger suddenly changed to fear and then to pain. Pushed by fright, pulled by disdain, she ran back outside while the car was still running with lights on, waiting for her planned escape. She fishtailed the elderly car down the abrupt hill, almost leaving its destined course.

It had gathered too much speed for the near fork ahead. The officer’s car was cautiously coming to the same junction, both officers in wonderment, not knowing what had just happened between the two well-known lovers.

Shit!! Look at that. She is going to drive right into the damn pond. Uttered one of the policemen.

You’re right. WHAT THE HELL IS SHE DOING?

The old beat-up Dodge was driving straight into the small pond in front of them. It had gathered too much acceleration to be slowed down by the thin dry bushes between the road and the water. With blaring noise and flying dust, it went without resistance over the bolder and dove undeviatingly into the still dark waters.

Both officers ran to the rescue, thinking they would have enough time to pull her out of the sinking car. They heard a gunshot, wondering where it was coming from. The car sank gradually, sucked in by the fathomless depth of the pond. The young officers came close to the car where they realized the woman had shot herself in the head, seeing the blood scattered on the car window. Their efforts were vindicated, knowing it was too late. Dumfounded by their first eye witness to a suicide, they languidly came out of the water leaving the car sinking to its destine depth.

You better call the chief right away. One of them said keeping his eyes on the scene. Yeah. You’ll beat. He replied still astounded by the macabre incident. Chief! This is car number three, Frank speaking. The chief screechy mature voice answered back. What is it Frank? Asking like he already knew what was going on.

You won’t believe what just happened chief? You know Laura April? We were following her for speeding on the road to the national park when she turned to the old Fergusson place, got in and out in two seconds, got back into the car and drove right into the pond, right in front our eyes chief, while going down, she shot herself

The chief remained silent. This, he wasn’t expecting. Frank was waiting for a reaction that never came.

We didn’t have time to do anything chief. What should we do now chief?

Stop calling me chief every five seconds. But chief! Answered Frank not understanding why he shouldn’t. Yeah, I’ll be right there. Knowing he had to come to the rescue of his young officers.

Frank turned to Tedd and told him that the chief would be here right away to reassure him, as if he didn’t hear what he said on the car radio. No need to dive for her, she’s dead.

By this time the car was almost sunk, barely visible We didn’t have the time to do anything, the poor girl. Said Tedd filled with mourned pity.

Tedd turned twenty two just last month; he was the youngest recruit of the Calistoga police force. Being so young, he was always ambivalent of his actions and his thoughts, the age of constant doubts, but he demonstrated exuberant zeal for the uniform, reason why the chief hired him. Let’s go into the house and see what frighten her so bad. Frank said trying to show some command over the younger recruit.

The other officer obliged, scared to find out what was the reason for her radical, fatal behavior but knowing it was the thing to do. He languidly put the car to drive and with frighten reticence, drove up the hill showing apparent apprehensiveness of the outcome. A dim reflection was generated from the burning fireplace but no lights were on. Cautiously out of the car, equipped with their batons and flashlights, they carefully scouted the grounds before stepping onto the depleted wooden porch; a precautionary police practice.

Anybody here? Yelled Frank, startling Tedd beside him. Hello! Hoping nobody would answer.

Tedd was inquisitively peeping into the smothered windows, looking at Frank intermittently to see if he was as apprehensive as he was. Doesn’t seem like there’s anybody here. Tedd said with a small quiver in his voice. Nobody alive that is. Replied Frank making a deduction based on what happened previously. Yeah, that’s what I meant.

Tedd spontaneously made the same deduction but was fearful to face the possibility of seeing a real corps, someone really dead. Frank opened with caution the squeaking door while looking authoritatively at his partner telling him without saying a word it was about time to get in.

Are you shivering? Frank asked with astonishment. I’m a bit cold, that’s all. Yeah! I’ll bet. You’re scared shit aren’t you? The young officer was too proud to admit that he was frightened by the up-coming scene. Of course not. Sometimes, I wonder why you became a cop. Frank said in a condescending way. Don’t get into that now. Let’s go inside.

Tedd answered like he wasn’t bothered by the hurtful remark since it was not the first time he heard something of the kind. He was purposely evading the subject all together by pretending it was made jokingly. Every time he heard a similar comment, he asked himself the same question, lying in bed at night. Maybe he wasn’t cut up for this type of work after all, knowing he wasn’t that smart. But with time, he told himself repeatedly, he would become better, better than his partner Frank.

The door of the farm house was slightly ajar when both officers set foot in. They both knew something had happened, something awful, something very weird perhaps.

The younger officer thought it would have been preferable to stay in the car and wait for the chief, but on second thought, it was their responsibility as officers. Both of them were tautly holding their respective revolvers in hand, peering vigilantly in all corners in the dim lighten house, floor cracking. The younger officer steered towards the fireplace, attracted by the light while Frank was prudently heading to the second floor. There was no sound or movements but just a faint voice of a radio playing up-stairs. Climbing apprehensively the barren splintering stairs, attracted by the muffed noise, he was suddenly interrupted by the impulsive shout of his younger partner. Oh shit Tedd exclaimed.

Officer Frank stopped abruptly his climb to find out what his partner had just found. There’s a dead guy lying on the floor. Frank was expecting that. He languidly turned down and headed towards his partner, still staring frigidly at the new found evidence. A young male was lying motionless with dry purple blood streaks running from his forehead on to the floor. Both officers approached with distinct wariness while intermittently keeping a watchful eye on the surroundings.

Is he dead? Tedd asked, but immediately regretted his question a second after he spoke A bullet in the forehead usually does the trick. Replied Frank while kneeling on the body. He’s cold as a turkey. Been dead for at least two hours. Shit, two in one night.

Tedd was bewildered by the turn of events. For a freshman, two corps in one night was something that would be etched in his mind for a long time. Even for Frank, the young veteran was a night to remember. Both officers began to search the room diligently for some evidences, hoping the chief would get there soon. Flashlights were beaming around the adjacent dun rooms like lasers in search for some usual clues to this double tragedy.

"It doesn’t get