|The Unknown Ones
Author: Farasha PM
Officer Jon Landragen of the FBI has been with the force for years, but things are changing. Along with a new partner comes an odd new case - one that could cost Officer Landragen his life.Rated: Fiction M - English - Supernatural/Mystery - Chapters: 9 - Words: 21,434 - Reviews: 1 - Updated: 03-01-07 - Published: 07-26-05 - id: 1971876
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Jon's partner, a young greenhorn he had been assigned to "show the ropes," was emptying his stomach of his breakfast outside. And possibly his dinner from the night before. Jon, still sore ar being the rookie's partner, had sourly told him to puke in a bucket so he wouldn't mess up the crime scene.
"Nothing still?" he asked the forensics crew poring over the scene. They shook there heads. Jon made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and turned to go check on his partner.
"Try not to step on the body," the crew head told him dryly, and Jon thought, not for the first time, that the CSIs had a rather morbid and disturbing sense of humor.
It was almost impossible not to step on the victim. It was as if she had been mauled; pieces of her were strung all over the living room. The only way the crew had been able to ID her was her head - suspended from the ceiling fan, her eyes and mouth sewn shut.
"Voodoo," one of the CSIs said. Jon forgot all about his partner and turned around, confused.
"The eyes and mouth," the woman clarified. "It's a voodoo tradition. It signifies that the soul, once it gets to the afterlife, can't tell the judges there what happened. The eyes mean that even if some way was found to make her speak, she couldn't see who killed her.
Jon turned a little green as the CSI poked the head with a gloved finger. "It's too bad," she said. "She was pretty."
Seeing dead bodies - or disembodied parts - didn't bother Jon, but touching death made his skin crawl. He picked his way around pools of blood, bits of flesh and claw marks in the floor to the vic's front door.
His partner was sitting on the tailgate of the CSI truck, looking pale. "Do you have any gum?" he croaked. Jon shook his head.
"Cigarrette?" he offered, but the other man declined.
"I don't smoke," he said. The man's name was Geoffrey King, and Jon had taken an instant liking to him, something that made him irritable. Geoffrey had an open, homely face, and most of his thoughts showed plainly in his clear blue eyes. He was of Scandanavian descent, and as a result was tall and skinny as a rail, with white-blonde hair, blue eyes and a strong nose. His smile was warm, and people trusted him.
Jon shrugged and lit up, inhaling deeply. Violent death had almost ceased to bother him. Almost. His nerves still needed calming.
If people trusted Geoffrey, Jon immediately put them off. He was shorter than his partner by a couple of inches, and had a severe expression on his face more often than not. His coal-black hair was a little longer than regulation allowed, brushing just below his shoulders, but his supervisor hadn't said anything, so in all likelihook, it would remain so. His distant Asian heratige showed in slightly prominent cheekbones and eyes that were vaguely almond-shaped, though they were a deep sapphire blue.
"The CSIs find anything?" Geoffrey asked.
"No footprints, no fingerprints, not even a hair. There were some pretty interesting claw marks on the floor, but no human evidence. No sign the victim owned a pet, either."
"Mm," Geoffrey said, thoughtful. "Time of death?"
"Difficult to pinpoint," a new voice said. The voodoo expert was reaching around Geoffrey for her kit, and dragged out a double handful of plastic evidence bags. "Temperature of the head says she's been dead for almost eight hours, but the blood on says less. It hadn't completely soaked through the carpet when we got here."
"Any word on the claw marks?"
The CSI pursed her lips. "Stevenson is a zoology nut, and he says there's no possible way they came from a canine. They aren't feline either."
"What are they?" Jon asked, a little irritated.
"Kodiac grizzly," the CSI answered. "We have bear prints in that house."
"In Texas?" Geoffrey asked, one eyebrow raised.
"No, in Oz," the woman snapped.
"Okay, okay, no need to get snarky," Geoffrey said mildly. The CSI snorted and went back into the house.
"Bear," Geoffrey said.
"Mm," Jon responded, taking another drag on his cigarrette.
"This is weird," Geoffrey said.
"Geoff," Jon said dryly, "We walked through the door and found a human head hanging from a ceiling fan. This case was already weird."