Evil Sight: Insight, #3

By R. D. Scott

Finding a body is a sad and demoralizing thing.  Finding a second body is worse, it beomes horrifying.  Then there was a problem, what comes after horrifying?

• Language: English
• Publisher: R. D. Scott
• Release date: May 2, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386506706

R. D. Scott

Retired policeman and retired private detective.  The golf got boring and writing took it's place.

Book preview

Chapter 1

GOING TO A MALL WITH a fifteen year old girl has to be one of the most difficult duties any father has to endure, she doesn't really want to drag a male parent around and maintaining any semblance of interest must require all the acting skills he may have.  I was somehow roped into that duty through what I believe was an act of revenge by my sweet, kind, loving....., (you get the idea), fiancée. 

To add to my misery was the realization that every store clerk recognized my discomfort and total inexperience so they took shameless advantage by playing on my daughter's ego and knowing I was incapable of saying no if pressed by her to buy a particular item.  It appeared as if my only useful function was the role of pack mule, her countless acquisitions were beyond her ability to carry while at the same time finding some new, must have item.

I was given the dubious shopping honor because her new mother, Beth Holder, an Atlanta Police Captain, was busy with some boring case, most likely some murder, that she claimed was to important to ignore, making it impossible for her to go shopping for back to school clothes.  The idea of special clothes had been a bit foreign to me until two weeks ago when I discovered my daughter and my soon to be wife (love that word), working their way through my closet, removing at least half of my things, declaring that they were outdated and that it was embarrassing to be seen in public with me.  They then humiliated me further by insisting on taking me shopping for, in their opinion, some more tasteful clothes.  Only because I am a mild mannered individual (henpecked), did I allow this massive intrusion to happen with only a few objections. 

My mind had wandered again in response to the current situation, it was trying to ignore my forced solo experience of teenage indecision.  I don't mean to imply she planned it that way(hah!), but Beth even used the flimsy excuse that since we were not yet married, she wasn't really Brenda's mother yet, and it would be a great adventure to shop with my daughter and have some quality alone time.  Beth has a streak of playfulness that she has loosed after I came into her life, goal oriented is a polite term for her attitude before she met me, driven is the correct word.  I have become the resilient target she needed to relax her need for serious dedication to her career. 

Brenda came into my life about six months ago when I, by pure chance, found out for the first time that I had a child, much less one that was a teenager.  Her biological mother had decided not to let me know of her pregnancy and when Brenda was born, abandoned her at age two months by leaving her with her grandparents and then disappearing and, after they unexpectedly died in an accident four years later, Brenda was orphaned. 

She spent the next nine years in a foster home and I only discovered her when she was brought into the hospital in an unresponsive state, after a sexual assault.  The police had no idea who she was and I had been asked by Beth, my fiancée, to try and discover her identity and what had happened. 

My name is Gary Sutton and I have a 'talent' known as post cognition, I can see certain events and memories when I touch people or the things they have touched.  When I met Beth almost a year ago I had been living a solitary life, avoiding contact, both physical and social, until the day I sort of witnessed a crime and she found out about my 'talent' in the course of her investigation.  At that time she and a doctor at Grady Hospital were the only ones that knew of my 'talent'.  She used her new knowledge of my ability to help solve that case and some other crimes after that, which is why she asked for help with Brenda, maybe I could see some memory that would help discover her identity. 

At my first touch on Brenda's arm I realized she and I were related, I didn't see a memory about it, just an overwhelming resonance or feeling that matched my individual identity.  After a blood test for legal verification and some help with  administrative manipulation from a couple of friends at Grady Hospital, I was able to bring her into my home and my life.  I couldn't let her return to a fosterling's life. 

Shortly after coming to live with me and Beth, in an effort to understand her situation, she confessed to being able to feel people's emotions.  Her confession was reluctantly admitted to us because she wondered why my emotions had expressed love and concern for her well being from the first time I touched her, and why Beth and I referred to her as my daughter.  I had not been ready to reveal that fact right away due to my guilty feelings about not being there for her.  In her short life she had not felt that sense of belonging from anyone, now she was getting it not only from me, but also from Beth. 

That's when we finally told her that she was in fact my biological daughter, one I had no previous knowledge of and that I had been waiting for an appropriate time to tell her, I had been afraid of her reaction to the knowledge of having a father that had not been in her life until now.

A couple of days later Beth told her about my 'talent'.  We had planned to keep that private for a while to let Brenda settle in, but events changed that.  We had neglected to factor in the empathy, the strong memory, and the intelligence of our daughter.  I say our daughter because even though she and Beth are not related, they somehow bonded like mother and daughter.  Living with us she had noticed some unexplained things and having figured out that we wouldn't lie to her, she demanded an answer, which Beth volunteered reluctantly, and I confirmed.

Which brings my once again wandering mind back to the current situation, the mall and the endless shopping, where we have been for over four hours and a lot of my money has been spent and my acting skills have evaporated.

Can we say this has been a great adventure, I asked her. and now go someplace for an overdue lunch, or at least coffee? 

She started laughing, gave me a quick hug, and informed me I had lasted longer than expected, that she had most of what she came for and yes, lunch would be welcome.  I immediately headed for an exit, found a cab since I refuse to drive, (have you seen the crazy people on the road) and directed the driver to Dale's Cafe in Buckhead, one of my favorite eateries, located only a few blocks away.

The owner, Dale Johnston, was a longtime friend as well as a business partner, he had allowed me to help him when he got into a financial bind and I got part of his restaurant in return.  I'm not what usual people call employed, I'm a stock analyst and have made a comfortable bit of money from investments. 

Dale's was also the place of my initial encounter with Beth, it wasn't a lightning bolt moment, as a matter of fact I became her semi-prisoner.  Her boss had been shot there and until I helped her find the shooter she did not let me out of her sight. Her looks and great personality,(Bossy, Bossy woman), did awaken my memories of dating and was a start to a series of events that brought us closer emotionally and helped grow our love for each other. 

The cab Brenda and I were in managed no more than three blocks when traffic came to a stop.  The cause was obvious as there were police cars everywhere.  The activity was centered around a construction site with crime scene tape blowing in the breeze marking the boundaries of the incident, including a lane normally used by traffic, hence the traffic jam.

I asked Brenda to stay with the taxi and go on to Dale's, that I would meet her and her purchases there.  I wanted to check if I could help the police, since that's what I had been doing lately, and when she agreed, saying that she knew I was nosy(she really meant the curious type), I got out of the cab.

I approached a police sergeant at the yellow tape line and showed him my police consultant ID, asking if I could help.  The ID was given to me by another of my sometimes friends, the Chief of Police, Gene Walker, but only after much anguish and hand wringing on his part.  He admitted that in offering the ID it might appear that he was supporting the crazy way I have helped the police and he wasn't really sure of that idea.  I had helped solve a couple of important cases, but not without causing some slight degree of anxiety for him and his Police Department.  After a successful case closing he was all friendliness and lighthearted fun, but during the investigation he could get tense and belligerent, and I was a convenient focus for his displeasure.

The sergeant I had approached turned and called into the site, getting the attention of a detective, Dennis Nelson, someone I recognized from the homicide squad, and I was waved in.  I had, a few months before, made a suggestion about one of his cases from something I had seen in his evidence and as a result he was able to make an arrest.  He has since treated me warmly and smiled as I carefully made my way through the construction equipment until I was able to see an open area with more crime scene tape behind him and an obvious hole, which in size appeared to be a grave.

Gary, I don't think there's anything you can figure out here, he said.  this body has been here for a while, all that's left is a skeleton, a kid based on the size.  We have a few cloth fibers, but they're so decomposed it's impossible to tell if they were clothes or a bag the body was buried in.  There's no weapon yet, and I haven't found any other unusual items.

I knelt next to the bones, and pointed to the chest, hiding my other hand as I touched a leg bone to try for some images, and asked if that was where a weapon had gone through the ribs.  What I was pointing to were rib bones pulled apart, making an opening in the chest.  He nodded and told me he thought so but that the M.E. was on the way to verify cause of death and maybe give a time of death.

I was feeling extremely ill after touching the leg, what I had seen was frightening and disgusting.  I apologized for not having any guesses for him, but told him if something came up and he wanted my help, to just call.

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