Heads Will Roll – Chapter Twelve

NOT EDITED

Rick was not proud of himself for needing to leave the scene, and he was even less impressed with himself for being unable to make it into the cruiser before his knees gave out on him.

After he had collected himself enough to drive home, he had taken as long of a route as he could, prolonging the inevitable. Now he sat in his driveway, hands still wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, his forehead resting against the top of it. It felt like he barely had time to even breathe before a knock at the window forced him to lift his head. He turned to find Heidi’s worried eyes staring at him.

With a clear of his throat, he reached out and rolled the window down. “I’ll be inside in a few.”

“You’ve been sittin’ out here for almost half an hour,” Heidi said, her voice soft as she crossed her arms over the opening of the vacant space the window had left behind.

“Jesus. I have?”

She nodded, reaching out to comb her fingers through his hair. “You can take as long as you need, baby. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” She rested her hand on his cheek, brow furrowed with concern. “How bad is it, Rick?”

“Bad,” he whispered.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“He killed Carol Jameson.”

“The art teacher?”

Rick nodded. “Left her headless, handless body on the lake for us. And when we finally went inside her house, he had… displayed her head for us on her bed. Up on the pillows.”

“Oh, my God.”

“I don’t know if I can do this, Heidi. Los Angeles came rushing back the moment Georgia told me there was a headless body on the lake. I can’t do this again.”

“I know it’s bad, baby, but this isn’t Los Angeles. This case isn’t that case. It’s not going to be like that case.”

“Headless on the lake, Heidi. Th-that’s, like, intentional.”

“Did you ask Bo what he thought? You guys worked on that case together, didn’t you?”

“I-I didn’t ask. At the lake, it felt like I was just being paranoid, and after I saw her head at the house, I just… I didn’t have the strength left to ask any more questions. I barely made it back outside.”

“You saw a beheaded corpse today, Rick. I think it’s reasonably for that to bother you or leave you shaken. So for right now, let’s focus on that and that alone. Not California. Not the case in California. None of it. Can we do that?” Heidi asked.

“I can… I can try,” Rick said.

“That’s all I can ask, baby.” She leaned in through the open window to kiss him. “You’ll talk to Bo tomorrow and see what he thinks about the similarity. But until then, thinking about it isn’t good for you. Focusing on it isn’t good for you. For tonight, you can try to just focus on the right now. Okay?”

“I can try. I’ll do my best.”

“Okay, baby.” She offered a smile. “You ready to come in?”

“I think I need a few more minutes.”

“That’s all right. If I don’t see you in ten, I’ll come back out. Okay?”

Rick nodded. Before she could pull away entirely, he grabbed her hand. “Thank you, Heidi.”

“I didn’t just agree to marry all the good stuff, Rick. This is just me sticking with you and our vows.”

“Still.”

“You’re welcome, baby.” She gave his hand a tight squeeze. “I’ll see you in there when you’re ready.”

***

After Bo had been entirely satisfied with the documentation of Carol Jameson’s head, he had helped the coroner — which was code for ‘the only doctor in town’ — properly package it for transport to the hospital — which was code for ‘very small clinic’. But unlike the sheriff’s department, the ‘hospital’ had a morgue, no matter how small, and for the purposes of a homicide investigation, that was a necessity.

With the body taken care of, Bo worked to take his pictures and measurements of just about everything he possibly could at the scene, whether or not it appeared ‘important’ enough to be documented. Bo would always prefer to waste his time documenting too much than save time documenting a half-assed scene.

“Didn’t you work a case in LA kinda like this? Bodies being displayed on the lake without their heads? Heads found later on at their houses or other… secondary locations?” Bridget asked.

Bo looked at her over his shoulder. Her back was to him as she dragged gloved fingers over the spines of the mystery books on the shelf. “In a way, yes. The victims were younger than Miss Jameson, and… and younger than Miss Young.” He cleared his throat. “But it’s LA. The lake wasn’t frozen. They were displayed on makeshift rafts in the lake.”

“Still. Kinda weird, right? Little bit of deja vu?”

“A little,” Bo admitted. He had allowed himself to think about the case a time or too as well, but Bridget picking up on the similarities of it too bothered him. Just Bo making a connection meant he was overthinking it. That it was him overthinking it. But a second person making note of it without any prompting or encouragement? That meant there could actually be something to it, and he wasn’t exactly a fan of that.

“I imagine the decapitation and display is a large part of why Rick is struggling with this case. It’s the last case he worked in Los Angeles.”

“Oh, my God. Rick was the cop that…? Jesus.” Bridget crossed her arms over her chest, brow furrowed. “You caught the killer, didn’t you?”

Bo weighed his answer for a moment before lifting one shoulder. “In a way, I suppose. Rick shot and killed the… primary suspect. There wasn’t, you know, a trial or anything of the sort.”

“Do you think it was the killer?”

“Yes, for the most part. But I was never certain if it was one person or two. Before he was killed, two girls were taken at the same time, and the getaway was very quick, as though there may have been a second driver. After the shooting, Rick was taken off the case, and because I was there, so was I. I don’t know if that potential was ever further looked into or not.”

“If there was a second person, do you think it’s possible this is their handiwork?”

“The kidnapping of Miss Young doesn’t necessarily fit their MO. Yes, they kidnapped victims, but they didn’t take on a second until the first was dead. Their age range was entirely young children, between eight and eleven, if I remember correctly. Carol Jameson aside, even Miss Young is essentially a decade past their preferred victim.” Bo cleared his throat. “Not to mention that the switch from a city like Los Angeles to a town like Ellepath is a little strange.”

“A little,” Bridget agreed. “Jeff’s worried about him working this case. He said he doesn’t know what Rick’s last case really was, just little bits and pieces he’s picked up here and there, and what he does know makes him worried about him.”

“I can see if Rick would like to discuss anything about it tomorrow.”

“I think Jeff would appreciate that. Thank you.”

“Of course. I’m sure it’s not the only thing he’d appreciate, hmm?”

Bridget smiled. “You think so?”

“Oh, that man absolutely wants to sleep with you, Bridge.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” Bo snorted rather than responding. “He’s cute, isn’t he?”

“He’s very handsome.”

“And so tall.”

“Bridge, you’re five-foot-nothing. Everyone’s tall. I’m tall.”

“I know. I’m still gonna climb that man like a tree, though.”

Bo laughed. “I don’t know if an Ellepath boy is prepared for your level of freak. You better ease him into the tree climbing.”

“Oh, I will. I’ve got time.” Bridget looked down, pulling off a glove to grab her phone from her pocket.

“Is that your tree?”

She snorted. “It is.”

“Do… you guys have plans?”

“If things wrap up here soon enough. If not, it’s not like tonight’s the only night I’m gonna be in town.”

“I don’t mind if he picks you up early, Bridge.”

“If you’re on the clock, I’m on the clock. That’s the whole point of me being here, B.”

“The point is for you to, you know… be my translator. To help prevent any misunderstandings between the deputies and myself. The deputies have gone home, and for the rest of the night, it’s just going to be me sitting here taking pictures, collecting evidence, marking where I found the evidence, and labeling the bags. It’s going to be boring, and you don’t have to be here for it unless you absolutely want to be. I have no problem with you going out and having fun, and I’m sure Deputy Biggs would benefit greatly from your presence tonight as well. I know your presence has helped me through more than one rough case.”

“You’re absolutely certain?”

“Positively.”

“Okay,” Bridget finally decided. “If you change your mind or if something comes up and you need me back here, I want you to call me. No hesitation, no nothing. You call. Okay?”

“Of course,” Bo said, his voice soft. “I will. But in the meantime? You go climb that tree.”

***

Jeff rolled off of Bridget, dropping to his back beside her. He draped an arm over his eyes, blocking out the dimmed overhead light. “I’m sorry.”

Though he wasn’t looking at her, Bridget raised a brow, turning her head just enough to look at him. “So you either always apologize for actually satisfying a woman, or I’m the first and you’re not sure what to do about it. I’m gonna guess the first, because you were… perfect.”

Jeff snorted, shaking his head. “I don’t… usually have sex on the first date. I’m not really a playboy. At least not that much of one. I usually believe in a little more winin’ and dinin’ and a little less beer and foosball.”

“Oh, I always do. And foosball is my number one method of foreplay. Don’t let it go to your head, Biggs.”

He laughed, dropping his arm as he turned toward her. Her face was flushed, her wavy blonde hair an absolutely gorgeous mess, her blue eyes sparkling with humor. “Thanks for that.”

“Mm.” Bridget rolled onto her side, propping her head up with one hand and laying the other on his chest. “The sex, or the joke?”

“Both.” He shook his head. “I don’t usually thank my dates for sex, either. But today was just…”

“I know,” Bridget said, her voice soft. She pressed a kiss to his lips, lifting her hand up to his face instead. “Cases like this suck. There’s no way around that. You gotta do what you gotta do to… survive it. Make your way through all the suck. Sometimes that’s boose, foosball, and sex.”

“Yeah,” Jeff said quietly. “I don’t think I’ve ever had to use sex as anything but, you know, sex.” He laughed, shaking his head again. “I mean, before this, during this time of year? We worked ‘cases’ of the missing Christmas decorations. The stolen animatronic reindeer. The deflated Santa lawn monstrosity. The occasional ‘so and so fell off the ladder while taking down the lights’. But this? Never this. Not in a million fuckin’ years, Bridget. Never this.”

“I know,” she repeated. “It gets… easier. But for your sake, I hope it never has to. I hope this is the last one Ellepath ever sees like this, and you boys can go on back to finding out who stole Santa Claus.”

“Me too,” Jeff whispered. He reached up and tucked her hair back behind her ear. “I don’t know how the hell you do it, Bridget. Working cases like this left and right in LA. I don’t know how the hell you do it.”

“You learn to compartmentalize eventually. It’s one of the hardest things to figure out in the beginning. After that, it’s just… internally distancing yourself from it and shoving it all into one part of your brain while you try to use the rest of it to live your life and not drown in all the shit you see.” Her eyes looked faraway for a moment as her thumb moved back and forth over the arch of his cheek. Jeff let her hold the silence for as long as she needed. “But I truly do hope you never have to learn that skill.”

“Me too.” Jeff cleared his throat. “You, uh, wanna join me for a shower?”

“You’re not gonna send me back to the crime scene after, are you?”

“God, no. Unless you want me to? I’m happy hugging those beautiful curves of yours the rest of the night, if you’ll let me.”

A little smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. “I’d like that, Biggs.” She climbed over him and off the bed. “Still, though, don’t let it go to your head. I’m told your ego doesn’t need any more fluffing, and I promised I wouldn’t contribute to it.”

Jeff chuckled. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Decker.”

---

Enjoying the story? Consider dropping a comment or a like down below!!

---