Killer Reality (Chapter 1)

The stifling air hit Lexianne in the face as soon as she opened the door. She walked ahead of the couple here to look at the house, wondering why it was hot since she had left the AC on last week when she showed it. As she reached the thermostat she caught scent of a foul odor coming from the hallway leading to the master bedroom of the foreclosure.

"Excuse me Mr. and Mrs. Mizell. You two go ahead and have a peak at that beautiful pool out back while I open the windows and try to cool it off in here for you. The AC may need to be checked out." L.A. Ramsey pointed her prospective buyers past the marble countered kitchen to the French doors that led out back. She went toward the bedroom to investigate. She just knew some stupid teenager had gotten in there and screwed with things. That, or an evil cat sized rat had come in and died.

She reached for the light switch and nothing happened, no power.

"I'll be right back I believe the breaker box may be off." She yelled as she walked out to the garage. This was not going well. She was already having a bad day and it was only ten o'clock on stupid Monday morning. Sure enough the main breaker had been flipped in the box. She pulled it back into its power on position and returned to her clients.

"Sorry about that. The breaker was off for some reason. I wasn't even aware someone else had the code but I guess they turned things off. It should be cooling down in there in a bit if you rather just go ahead and look around the yard. There is the extra detached garage on the north side of the house and the small workshop on the back of the property. Those two may be places you would really enjoy Mr. Mizell. Dad says you are thinking about getting into the car restoration hobby also?"

"Yes ma'am I think we will have a look at that while the house cools down." He took his wife's hand and started toward the back of the property.

"I'm just going to step inside and let you two have a little time to yourselves." Lexianne went to check out that stink in the master bedroom before it had a chance to hit the Mizells. Before she even reached for the door handle the reek was assaulting her nostrils. She opened the door and had to put her hand over her mouth. The bile was rising in her throat and her eyes began to sting. The smell was consuming, not coming from any one direction but filling the room with its foulness. She saw work boots in the doorway of the master bathroom.

On a normal scale Mondays generally suck, but on a Monday morning standing in a rotten meat scented bathroom with a pair of work boots pointing at the ceiling, well, the suck-o-meter just hit its peak. Any normal twenty seven year old woman may panic at this point, not Lexianne. Being raised as her father's only son, she had an odd level of curiosity. She pulled her shirt up over her mouth and nose and walked further into the room to get a better view. She held her breath and refused to gasp in horror.

He was dead alright. Whoever he had been it would be a little difficult to tell now. Seeing as how his face was mostly inside out from what looked to have been a hammer. The gruesomeness was more than she could handle. She reached down and tried to feel for a wallet. No luck she needed air. She made it back to the doorway of the bedroom in time to walk into Mr. Mizell. One look at her alarmed expression and he pulled her to him. He was a friend of her father's before moving out of town. Now returning with his new wife he needed a place. He had talked to Lexianne's father just days before and was set to only make a purchase from her. He looked over her head and saw the feet himself. He wordlessly wrapped an arm around Lexianne and guided her out to the living room where his wife was mentally placing furniture.

"Sandy, sweetheart, take Lexianne outside for me and wait in the car." He said this calmly and clearly and Sandy knew her husband of six months well enough to know it had to be serious. Without question or preamble she wrapped her right arm around Lexianne's shoulder and walked her to the car.

"My bag is in there."Lexianne mumbled as Sandy cranked the SUV to cool it off.

"It's ok sweetie. I am sure Stan will grab it for you. We will just sit tight 'til he comes out okay?" She patted Lexianne's knee while she watched the house. She didn't ask Lexianne questions.

As two police cruisers pulled up in front of the house though she lost her calm facade.

"What in the devil?" Sandy wondered aloud.

"There's a dead man in bathroom." Lexianne whispered.

"What?! Stay here sweetheart." Sandy got out of the car and marched back inside to find her husband talking to one officer while the other called in something on his radio.

"Ma'am you can't be in here." The young officer said.

"The hell I can't. I've been here for the past hour." She stomped over to stand by her husband as the officer that was asking him questions lifted his brow at her.

"I'm his wife, Sandy Mizell." She reached her hand out to him and he stopped writing long enough to shake it.

"Do you know anything about this person? Your husband has informed me that you were here with the realtor looking at this house?" He continued to write as she verified that information. Officer McCumber walked the couple outside to the fresh air to continue questioning.

Once satisfied he allowed them to sit in the SUV where Lexianne was trying to stay cool and collected. It was not an easy task after seeing her first dead human body, mutilated and heated.

"Hi there Lexianne, I'm really sorry but I have to ask you some questions also. Do you think you can stand out here with me?" Officer McCumber graduated high school with Lexianne. He was married to one of her old friends and felt terrible about having to put a friend through the trouble of questioning after her having seen such a horrific site.

"Sure Paul," she stumbled as she left the passenger seat of the Tahoe. 'I'm alright, just a little queasy. I don't ever remember smelling something so awful in my life. The smell is stuck in my nostrils."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Here take this." He handed her a clean white washcloth. "Bethany makes me keep a new pack in my car during these heat waves to wipe my face." He smiled sheepishly.

"Thank you Paul. How is Bethany anyway?" It was much nicer to think about her friend being six months pregnant with her first child than it was to think about the rotting corpse inside the house.

"She's really doing great. I'll tell her to call you soon. I really hate to have to put you through this but I need to get down some info before the CID team gets here and the detectives jump my ass for not doing my job." He flipped his tablet open and began writing Lexianne's information down from her driver's license. He clipped one of her business cards in with the info sheet.

"Who owns the house right now?" He looked up to find her staring at the house front.

"Lexianne? You sure you're ok? You wanna sit in my car while we do this?"

"Um, yeah I think that would be better." She followed him to his squad car and sat in the tiny space available on the passenger seat. He put away his note tablet and started typing all the information needed into his computer. It was definitely cooler in the car. This guy could have picked a better time than in the middle of a July heat wave to spill his brains in one of her houses.

"Back to the owners?"

"Oh yeah, sorry. I'm just so shocked that's all. The bank owns the house right now, First Financial. They contracted with my broker to put to the place on the market. You know how many places I have like this right now? I've got sixteen properties that the bank owns. All here in Nassau County." Normally she was a reserved and professionally calm woman, now though Lexianne couldn't make her mouth close if she used her hands.

Paul McCumber interrupted her rant with another question. "Have there been any issues with the previous owners? Do you know who this guy may be? Has your company contracted any work to be done on the house?"

"Yes, I mean no. No there isn't anything wrong with the previous owners. There haven't been any issues with them at all. The whole thing was actually very cut and dry. They moved up north several months ago and just let the house go back. They were nice people. You remember Lisa Gentry? Her and her husband had the place but he got a great job up in Rhode Island. They couldn't afford both places in this economy so they let the bank have it back. It's happening all over the place." She felt a little relieved to be talking to Paul. At least she trusted him as a friend and didn't feel intimidated by his badge.

"So are there any other people that you know of that have access to the house?" He asks her calmly, knowing she is still hanging on the edge.

"Yes, everyone in my office has the code. The keys are kept in the lockbox on the front door. It was all in place when we arrived." She began biting her fingernail.

"And what time was that? Mrs. Mizell said it was about an hour ago?" As the question and answer mini session continued she felt the queasiness leave the pit of her stomach but every time she looked at the house she felt the wave of nausea return. She picked at her cuticles to keep her attention from the house. After what felt like forever, in the side view mirror she saw other cars arrive.

Paul was out of the car and talking with the other officers that had arrived. The big, muscular guy with the crew cut was in jeans and a polo shirt. Dork, she thought. He had a cocky gait. She instantly knew this guy was going to be a jerk and at the rate her day was going she was going to end up talking to him. UGH! Paul came back to the car after a few minutes of chatting and hand gestures.

He opened the door to the patrol car that he had left running with Lexianne in the passenger seat still. He flopped into his seat like he had been deflated. "Dick wants to talk to you next. Sorry about that. I know you're shaken up but he really does need to do his job." Paul looked over at Lexianne with sympathy. She just snickered.

"What?" Paul looked confused by her laughter.

"You just called him a Dick. I thought it was a little funny to see Officer McCumber lose his professionalism for a minute." She smiled at her old friend, mentally thanking God it had been Paul that spoke with her first.

"Um, no," Paul scratched the top of his head in momentary confusion. "Oh, ha, no his name is Dick. Richard Holland is an investigator for homicide."

"Of course I turn back to my eighth grade self during my first traumatic event. I'm sorry Paul. Wait... Homicide?" Lexianne breathed out looking back at the front of the house that was now swarming with people. Crime Scene Unit people, uniformed police, some standing around while others appeared to be working, other plain clothed police officers and detectives also stood around the front lawn. Inside the forbidding police tape.

"Well, yeah, homicide Lex. You don't think the guy beat his own face in do ya?"

"No." She whispered toward the window.

The Dick was walking in the direction of the patrol car just as Lexianne suddenly sneezed, without warning causing her to bang her head into the glass of the window. "Ouch!"

Simultaneously the sound of Paul saying, "God Bless You", and Lexianne's head bumping the window filled the cab of the car.

"Thanks," she replied rubbing the red splotch on her forehead, just as Dick tapped on the glass outside the car. Startled Lexianne jumped, making Dick grin and pissing Lexianne off even before she had formally been introduced to the man.

As Paul put down the passenger window Lexianne watched the detectives face. She knew instantly that there was more than one something that she just didn't like about him. Maybe it was the way he walked, cocky and overcompensating she thought. That made her grin.

"Is there something you find funny about this situation Ms?" He said in his deeper than probable voice. She realized then that she had been actually grinning on the outside.

"No there is nothing funny about this SITUATION." She scolded back. "There happens to be a dead body in a house that I am selling! What in the heck do you think I would find funny about that?" She used her southern accent to exaggerate her offense at the comment; making the detective feel foolish for asking such a dumb question. Well hopefully anyway. She did not like him and almost wanted to tell him so. Better to just let him think it she supposed.

She answered his questions there on the scene with the comforting feel of her friend Paul near her side.

The detective released her and told her he would be in contact later to follow up with any questions that may arise.

"What is your phone number Ms. Ramsey? "The detective said as he was walking away. She crinkled her nose and bit her lip to keep the smart aleck comment from bursting out. Ha, she thought and let it fall out anyway. "Area code 904," he nodded as she spoke, "867," he nodded again, "5309" he flipped his book closed and walked back to his car. Lexianne wore a confused look on her face that a detective didn't notice the number.

"What the hell Lex?" Paul stifled a laugh. "You're going to get on his bad side when he tries to call you." Paul shook his head.

"Obviously he's a dill-hole anyway! Some detective! Oh my gosh, I cannot believe he didn't get that! And he didn't even say thank you. That big oaf."

“Well he did just transfer in from out of state. He was given a place on the team because of his experience.” Paul said trying to smooth the ripples, even though he didn’t care for Dick either.