Chapter 1 and 2 of Beauty from Ashes

                                                                                        1.         





            Genesis 4:10, And the Lord said, What hast thou done? The voice of thy brother’s blood crieth  unto me  from the ground.



            Leland’s heart slammed against his ribs like an animal trying to escape its cage.  Each breath he took was quick and shallow as his Tahoe snaked its way along the back road to his house.  Beads of sweat dropped off the ends of what little salt and pepper hair he had left and trailed their way down his neck.  Slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as his mind drifted back to the Park. He felt alive for the first time in years. God is very proud of me.

          Feeding scriptures to Leland was the job of two generously proportioned, jet black demons that had been assigned to him nearly ten years ago.  Their splintered claws were attached to the sides of his skull. Spittle escaped their mouths as they hissed cleaver passages of the Gods Holy Word to encourage their charge.                                                                                       

            Repeatedly checking the rearview mirror gave Leland a growing sense of calm.  No one followed him as he reached his quiet street that was hidden in the outskirts of Mystic Valley Maine. The old saltbox style house was adorned in peeling white paint. Sitting alone in an open field made it appear smaller than the twenty five hundred square feet that it was. The faint glow of the outside light now accepted him home like a lighthouse beckoning its ship. 

            Ushering the grey, 1998 Chevy Tahoe into his two-car garage, Leland let out an audible breath and chuckled. Turning off the engine he sat completely still for a full minute before reaching up to his visor and clicking the garage door opener to close the door. He swiftly exited the Tahoe and stood. Hearing nothing but the hum of the above light satisfied him that no-one had followed him home. He reached into the passenger seat and retrieved a black gym bag. 

        The demons that were his constant companions trailed Leland into his home 

            Deafening quiet, along with the smell of rancid food, enveloped him as he stepped into the once clean and lively home.  Memories of his recently deceased wife of forty years tried to side track him as he proceeded to the laundry room.  Small piles of dirty laundry littered the floor.  Seeing the piles brought his mind back in time.  His wife had her back to him folding laundry.  She was humming her Christian songs.  “It’s my honor to do the laundry, to clean our home…it reminds me of the blood of Jesus washing away our sins.” Wiping away a single tear from his left eye, Leland came back to the present.

            Chills erupted onto his skin as he pulled off his blood spattered, navy blue sweat-suit. He removed his sneakers and socks carefully and threw everything into the washing machine. Grabbing the Tide liquid from the shelf above the washer, he filled two cups of tide with shaking hands and dumped them onto the blood and dirt mixed clothes. Turning the dial to heavy load, he left the laundry room.

            Briskly moving his naked body into the adjoining bathroom, he peered out the window. The yard and driveway were clear.  There were no cars driving by, no police in sight.  He laughed. Turning the shower on,he waited two seconds and then stepped in. Enclosing himself into the shower by dragging the lacy white shower curtain that Martha had made brought comfort to Leland.  Hot water cascaded over his bulky frame as it mixed with sweat, blood and dirt. Thank you for the reward of a hot shower. The shower lasted as long as the hot water but not long enough to rid him of the acid that had crept into his stomach or the chill that spread out from his soul. He toweled off before dressing in an old pair of jeans, and a Patriots t-shirt, then lumbered into the kitchen.

            Demons trailed him, whispering unintelligible words that reached into his mind. Songs of praise for a job well done began to fill his mind.  A crooked grin took over took his lips. 

              The kitchen clock read 9:00 a.m. Leland carefully examined the back yard out the big bay window in his kitchen and then crossed into the living room to sneak a peek of the driveway.  Satisfied that he was safe he spread out some old newspaper on the table and unpacked the black gym bag. He laid the contents out before him and smiled. Pleasure circulated through his body as he looked at the .9mm handgun, two pairs of bloody purple gloves, one mangled, bloody bullet, a gun clip that held 14 more bullets, and 1 shell casing.

              Reaching up into the small cabinet above the stove he retrieved his gun cleaning kit and sat down at the kitchen table.  Humming his wife’s favorite hymn, the old rugged cross, Leland began methodically cleaning the .9mm semiautomatic handgun that he had bought for his wife ten years prior.  The CZ-75B model had been the easiest one for her to handle, but still gave enough power for self- defense if she ever needed it. 

              Leland’s long, calloused fingers gently messaged the gun with a clean, white rag as fumes from the cleaning solution filled the kitchen. Using a wire, he ran the white rag through the barrel several times.  Skillfully dipping the bore brush in the cleaning solution he scrubbed the barrel and exit hole further to be sure to remove any gun powder residue.

            Each cleansing stroke that polished the gun sent electric pulses of happiness through Leland’s mind.  Invisible clouds of musty haze surrounded him as the demons circled him. They were chanting, laughing and praising their god.

              Leland then took another clean, white rag from his gun kit and slowly wiped down the .9mm to remove any cleaning solution left behind.  His large hands caressed the gun for several more minutes as he massaged gun oil into the smooth metal. He was unaware of the evil surrounding him, goading him with heinous thoughts of iniquity. Waves of exhilaration energized his brain as it went back to the movie screen holding the memory of his morning in the Park.

              Leland gathered his gun supplies and stored the .9mm back into the top drawer of the nightstand on his deceased wife’s side of the bed.  He then filled the black gym bag with the washed and dried sneakers, socks, sweat-suit and the gun clip and carefully stored it in a large wooden box in the attic.  He then walked to the back of his home and entered his office.  He closed the door and walked to his cluttered desk.  The ceramic football mug from college clinked loudly as he dropped the bullet and shell casing into the bottom of it.  Grinning, he put the mug back on the top shelf over his desk and left the office, all the while humming the old rugged cross.

              Taking long, purposeful strides into the kitchen, Leland grabbed the bloody gloves and the rags he used to clean the gun and shoved them into an empty Lays potato chip bag.  He dropped that into an already full garbage bag and pulled it free from the can. Tying the bag tightly, he brought it to the edge of his driveway where it would be picked up in exactly forty five minutes. With each step, he smiled more.  With each step, evil increased.

              Walking back into the garage he began the daunting task of cleaning the Tahoe.  Filling a large yellow bucket with soapy water and using an old t-shirt and scrub brush, he began washing the blood, dirt and grass from the inside of his car.  Despite the cool September air, beads of sweat slipped off his nose and chin every few seconds as he methodically wiped down the driver’s seat.

          Memories of his earlier deed held his mind captive.  He was completely unaware of the demons that circled his car, laughing and joking at his expense.  They hissed scriptures at him; the same scriptures he had used to justify his hatred.  His one-time guardian angel stood in the corner of the garage, praying for him to see the truth.  The guardian was helpless until Leland saw his own sin and repented. 

              Satisfied the car was free of blood, he emptied the yellow bucket of water through back door of the garage. Red tinged water seeped into the ground, leaving only snapping, pink bubbles behind.

          A flash of guilt tried taking hold in his mind, but the inaudible cheers of victory from the demons hovering overhead caused it to die.

              Leland vacuumed remaining grass and dirt from the car floor then finished by vacuuming the cement around his car. Once everything was finally back in its place, he retreated inside, falling asleep in his fraying, brown, plaid recliner.





                     

   





                                                                                                        2.                         

       

                                                    Acts 21:25, but that thou thyself also walkest orderly and keeps the law.





          Driving to the crime scene, CSI 11 team member, Tanner Quinn prayed to God for direction and wisdom. Praying while at her job was something that was becoming a habit since she started attending the women’s bible study at the Evangelical- Free Church in Mystic Valley. The newest lesson she had learned, was that God wanted his children to talk to Him all day, about all of their needs.  This had not always been Tanner’s way.  She was the type of person who had to exhaust all human efforts before giving into the idea that  true strength came from Christ.  “Type A,” she would say.  “Pain in the butt,” her husband would say.

          “Father, please guide my eyes to what you want me to see. Show me Lord, the clues that are not visible, and the evidence that isn’t obvious.  Lord, help me to not miss anything. In Jesus name, I pray, Amen.”

        Sitting quietly, and unaware to Tanner, is her guardian angel; Ceasor.  His massive, muscular, seven foot six form is folded into the passenger seat, and his piercing blue eyes are closed in reference to the God of her prayers.  Each prayer that Tanner issues to heaven strengthens him for the battle ahead. 

          The 911 call had come into the Mystic Valley Maine dispatch center at 8:00 a.m.this morning, Friday, September 18, 2010.  A female jogger, in the Riley Park, stumbled across a female body that appeared to have been shot to death. She called 911 in hysterics.  Tanner was called to the scene at 8:20 a.m., by her boss, Detective John Hasting, of the Criminal Investigation Division, Unit 11.  “Tanner, meet me at the Riley Park ASAP. We have a body. No sirens.”

          Pulling her ten year old, black Land Rover out of the CID station parking lot, Tanner realized she was both excited and anxious.  “What in the name of all that is Holy, is wrong with me Lord,” she questioned out loud.  “What kind of person gets excited to go to a murder scene? It’s sick, and cannot possibly be the way you want your children to feel.”

        Ceasor chuckled at her.  Always dissecting your thoughts aren’t you Tanner.  

          Crime scene investigation was a passion for Tanner, a later in life passion that she was able to commit her energies to.  Having been an Emergency Room Forensic nurse for ten years had naturally ushered her into the crime scene investigation world for the past seven years. 

          She drove the Rover into the parking lot of the Riley Park at 8:30 a.m., parked beside Detective Hasting’s brown Ford pickup, and turned off the engine. 

          Taking off her seatbelt as she watched the dust settle on the hood of the Rover, she let her eyes adjust to her surroundings.  The small dirt parking lot of the park entrance was just off the main road, five minutes from interstate 95 and ten minutes from the police station.  The lot was crowded with state trooper, police, and CID vehicles, along with the beginnings of a small crowd of curious onlookers.

          Two, very thin, white haired elderly women, dressed in purple terry cloth pant suits were huddled together on the side walk pointing toward the Park.  They looked like twins.  A middle aged balding man, with bad posture, and a large overhanging belly stood patting the head of his golden retriever as he watched the two Mystic Valley officers roping off the park entrance with yellow crime scene tape.  Does that guy even know that his shirt doesn’t cover his hanging flesh?       

          A small white pickup truck pulled off to the side of the road and the young female driver was talking on her cell phone looking towards the park.  Tanner jotted down the license plate numbers of the onlookers in the small multicolored journal she kept in her console. 

        Along with the officers that are roping off the Park entrance, several other Mystic Valley police officers held the small crowd beyond the park entrance.  The local news teams had not yet arrived. Pulling her chestnut brown, shoulder length hair into a low ponytail, Tanner prayed again. “Father, please direct my steps and guide me to the evidence.  Help me Lord, to glean information from this victim’s body.  Slow my heart beat, and adjust my eyes.”

        Ceasor unfolded himself from the Rover and powerfully rose to his full height. The muscles in his arms and back bulged as he adjusted the heavy gold chest plate. Hanging from the belt around his waist was the Gladius sword that was awarded to him in an ancient battle long ago.  Sun hit the sword and beams of multicolored light spread out across the parking lot. Ceasor scanned the woods for the demons he knew where hiding there           

          Grabbing her evidence collection kit from the back seat of the Rover, Tanner jumped out of the Rover and slammed the door. Opening the hatch to the back, she gathered her hiking boots, changed into them, leaving her black Dansko clogs in their place. 

          Tanner’s phone rang through the cool crisp air just as she neared the Park entrance, making the ring tone to Bon Jovi’s, Have a nice day sound even louder. Tanner answered with her usual singsong, “Its Tanner.”

        “Waiting on you Tanner, where are you?” Detective John Hasting questioned.

        “Just pulled in, I’m headed towards the entrance now.”

        “Take a left after you step through the fenced entrance and head down the path of Aspen; you’ll come up on us in about six or seven minutes.”

          Tanner hit End and refocused on her surroundings.  I forgot how beautiful the park is. Weathered, round wooden, white fencing surrounded the park. The perimeter was shaded with old, towering oak trees. Each tree was filled with lush green leaves that had begun to spatter with fall color. Plenty of tall pines were mixed in, making the park cooler than the road way.  The thin, pale cream cardigan she wore wasn’t quite warm enough. The day started off sunny and cool at fifty five degrees and had not warmed up much. She could smell the freshly mowed grass that lined the dirt pathway of the park.

          The path she followed was approximately two feet wide and heavily traveled. It was roped off to preserve evidence, so she gingerly walked through the freshly mowed grass, collecting tiny grass spears all over her boots.

        “Over here, Tanner,” Doug yelled, breaking her thoughts.

        Walking towards the scene, Tanner took in the sight of the CID team; Doug, Tim, Steve and her boss and friend, John Hasting.  She cared about this team, they worked well together and each one brought their own expertise to the group.

        Doug Weatherbee, as usual, was tugging his off glasses, unsettling the graying hair around his ears. Staring out over the crime scene, he thoughtlessly drew a cloth from his shirt pocket to wipe his already spotless lenses. Raising his hand to replace his glasses, the light caught on a new set of cufflinks. They struck Tanner as a little showy for his usual taste. Perhaps, they were a gift from his long term partner, Sylvia. Raising the camera he wore on a strap over his shoulder, he photographed the scene with all the swiftness of practiced ease, bringing a smile to Tanner's face.

        Tim Lyons is the newest and youngest member of the unit, at twenty four, he joined the team last year as a new officer trained in crime scene investigation. Tanner watched as he stood behind Doug taking in the crime scene in his usual manner.  He slowly and mythotically took notes in between scanning the scene in slow sweeps without moving his body. Tanner smiled as she watched him knowing that his mind was working like the computer technology he loves so much. 

          Steve Savage, age fifty six, is a senior detective with the team.  He holds the honor of “ballistics king,” because he can identify all things gun related. As Tanner approached she saw his face change from work to skeptism.  Realizing that he still viewed her as a woman and not a crime scene investigator irked her.  No wonder youve been divorced three times, she thought.

          Tanner smiled when she saw John Hasting. Not only is he the lead Detective for the Mystic Valley CID team but but he and his wife are also Christian friends of hers. As Tanner walked closer to John along the perimeter of the scene she chuckled to herself as she watched him pulling crime tape along the bushes. His face was pinched in concentration while he silently did his job. Tanner knew that every detail was being filed away and digested.

          Tanner joined the Mystic Valley CID11 in 2002 after she retired from nursing at age thirty five.  She was lured to the CID11 division by John, with the position of Crime Scene Investigator.  He recommended her for the job after having worked with her on several Forensic cases that had presented themselves to the Emergency Department in Mystic Valley. He told her that, “being a registered nurse in the emergency department for ten years gave her an insight into human disease and behavior that would prove invaluable.”

        Ceasor could see and smell the burning stench of sulfur that radiated from the demons lurking near the dead young woman.  They were not bold yet, but they were present.  Their small gray eyes watched him, but did not come near Tanner. He knew that his charge would be a target for their harassment.  She is a daughter of the Most High God and they despise her. Tormenting God’s children with their past sins is a game demons love to play.  Ceasor took his job of protecting her seriously.

          As Tanner and Ceasor moved closer to the scene, a small impish brown demon scurried from behind Steve and fled to the woods.  John’s guardian nodded to Ceasor as they approached.  Meeting often, they knew each other well.  

          Entering the second roped off terrain, Tanner slowly walked along the edge of the perimeter, careful not to disrupt any evidence.  Doug and Tim were photographing the scene as Steve, along with two Mystic Valley police officers, searched the grounds in a patterned grid looking for evidence.  John was slowly walking around the body, hunched over, analyzing her from all angles. 

          “She’s fresh Tanner, maybe a few hours in. I’d guess mid twenties.  Shot in the abdomen and chest. She fought. Maybe has a broken neck. This was a violent attack.” John said in his detached tone, “and the killer pinned some notes to her clothes.”

          Tanner opened her evidence collection kit and slipped blue booties on over her boots so she could get closer to the body and not transfer any evidence to the site. Sliding her thin hands into the soft plastic, purple gloves, she moved to the body.  Even in death, she is beautiful, Tanner thought. 

          She pulled a small tape recorder out of her bag and began recording the facts of what she was seeing. Doug silently made his way over to the body to photograph as Tanner did her inspection.

          Putting her glasses on and kneeling down next to the body, Tanner read the notes that were pinned to the victim’s clothes and began recoding. “Two notes left on the body, safety pinned with medium sized, standard silver pins, to her left upper chest and low mid pelvic region. Each note sealed in a clear plastic sandwich baggie that zip locks.

          The note pinned to her chest reads, Proverbs 6:16-17; There are six things the Lord hates, seven that are an abomination to him; haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood.

          The second note on her lower abdomen reads; Psalm 82: 2-3 Defend the cause of the weak and fatherless; maintain the rights of the poor and oppressed.  Rescue the weak and needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked. Both notes are typed in a slanted, angular font. The paper appears to be basic white lined Q cards,” she recorded.

          John moved closer to Tanner, “What do you make of the scriptures?” he asked once she turned off her recorder. 

          Before she could comment Doug piped in.  “Probably some right wing religious fanatic peeved at the world.”  He began photographing the notes and continued commenting under his breath, “religious wack jobs pick now to murder someone…my retirement is coming and I swear if this….” 

          “They are not from the Kings James Version,” Tanner cut in, “so I would guess they are one of the newer translations. The perp. appears upset because of perceived murder. He is pointing out twice the taking of innocent life,” she replied to John, ignoring Doug.

          “The perp. murders her but thinks nothing of preaching about taking an innocent life? I hate to say it but Doug could be right, it looks like a religious wacko. The paper is going to love this crap,” John blurted out in a disgusted tone as he began pacing.

          “Let me finish John and we’ll talk it over after.  I don’t like this being tied to God any more than you do.”  Turning her attention to the scripture cards, she collected them separately and bagged them into evidence.

          Changing her gloves and turning her tape recorder back on, Tanner began the time consuming task of detailing the scene before her. Ceasor stayed close by, watching the demons lurk from the trees.

          “Female body found in the center of an approximate ten foot by ten foot dirt area set in a square shaped opening just off the dirt path of Aspen.  The opening is attached to a circular dirt area surrounded by Oak trees and low growing plants and shrubs. Some obvious disruption of plants noted at the base of a very large oak tree approximately six feet east of the body. There is plenty of disrupted dirt, starting from the end of the path and filling the open dirt clearing.  Several varying sized tread marks noted, making partial shoe prints in the dirt,” 

          Tanner stood to drop a marker by a possible sneaker tread of interest that caught her eye.  She then moved back to the body.  Standing above the murdered young woman, Tanner let her heart feel the sadness for a moment. Looking down on her, she softly spoke, “Who are you little one?  Do you have anyone missing you yet? Why were you chosen?”

          Clearing her throat and speaking into the recorder again, Tanner’s tone reflected the shift from civilian to investigator.

          “The body is of a slender white female, age range 18-30. Short blonde bobbed, wedge hair cut. She is approximately five feet, five inches tall.  She is wearing black flair legged, cotton, Nike workout pants, and a black ribbed tank top over a black sports bra.  Her sneakers are white with gold trim, Nike shocks; size eight. She is lying face up with her head turned awkwardly to the left, apparent broken neck.  She has blue eyes that are half open, no makeup. Small areas of dried, smeared blood noted on both sides of her face and neck. Face intact. Bilateral ear lobe piercing holes with no earrings present. There is a large, dark purple and red bruise to the center larynx area with dark red edging that looks like a pattern of some type; possibly a sneaker tread. Scratch marks are present on each lateral portion of her neck.”

          Walking around the body to visualize from another angle, Tanner continued the analysis of discovery, and reported it into the recorder. What kind of an animal did this, and why?

        Ceasor prayed for his charge.

          “Dried blood droplets cover the tops of both sneakers. Freshly mowed grass and dirt have collected in the treads and are scattered along the sides of both sneakers. No socks. Brown leather Timex watch strapped on her left wrist. Time is correct at 8:50 a.m. No rings and no tan lines indicating a missing ring. The fingernails on her left hand are mid length, non- polished and manicured; dirt and blood underneath the first through fourth fingernails. Right hand shows broken fingernails to the index and middle fingers also with blood and dirt underneath, also non- polished and manicured.”

          Tanner stood and stretched her back before continuing, giving Doug a chance to change his position and angle. She closed her eyes and prayed. Lord, who did this? Why this young girl?     

      Ceasor slowly walked the perimeter of the murder scene as he watched the outline of several demons in the wooded region that surrounded them.  They were shrieking obscenities and howling, but they didn’t venture forward.

          Doug announced he was again ready to photograph and Tanner continued with her recording. “Both of her hands and wrists have dried blood on them. The mid and low areas of the front of her tank top, as well as the top of her pants are wet with blood. What appears to be a bullet hole is noted just above her belly button, and another in her upper left chest; both possible entrance sites as they are small and symmetrical with some ragged skin noted with a slight amount of gunpowder and cordite surrounding the wound, seemingly coming through the thin tank top. The skin around the possible entrance wounds shows no abrasion ring. Close range… possibly close enough to touch her with the gun.  There is dark blood soaking the earth underneath the body; starting at the breast region and going down to the top of thigh region, spreading out two inches in diameter from the form of her body.”     

          Once again, standing up to stretch her back and collect her thoughts, Tanner realized  there were no birds chirping, no sounds of children playing and no dogs barking…all sounds that were normal for the park at this time of day.  “Death is the only thing in the air right now,” she muttered. Sadly staring down at young woman, Tanner asked John to help her turn the body on its side so she could view the backside. 

          “I’m assuming she lives relatively close by because she has no jacket, no identification and there were no civilian cars in the parking lot when we pulled in.  The jogger that found her said she didn’t recognize her but she had just started running here last week. The jogger is being questioned at Mystic Valley’s central district now,” John said as he held the body on its left side. 

          Once again changing her gloves and turning her recorder back on, Tanner began the analysis of the victims back side.

          “Probable exit wound at L4 is good sized at a ragged 3cm sized semicircle. There is significant pooling of blood on her upper back and buttocks. She has been lying in this position for maybe two hours. There are no signs of hematoma or cuts to the back of her head so she didn’t fall backward or get struck on the back of her head. She is still clothed, so sexual assault may not have been a factor. Two forms of assault noted, so passion is involved, but what type?”

            Tanner continued talking into the recorder as she roamed the body with her eyes.  Her stomach was churning and bile was fighting for entrance to her mouth. Swallowing hard she continued.

            “She has rigor mortis forming in her face, neck and arms so again I’d say she has been down for about two hours. Lividity is noted on her backside with imprints of the ground in her upper back, buttocks and calves. Blowflies are present in her eyes, nose and armpits. No obvious larvae or maggots, so again the two hour mark stands,” Tanner finished her thoughts and then turned off the recorder.

            “Okay John, I’m done with this phase. I need to start collecting samples and then we can move her to the Medical Examiner’s lab. Has the ME called in yet?  Do you have all the photo’s you need Doug?” Tanner asked as she began arranging the packets of swabs, tweezers, vials and boxes.

            Already walking away, Doug answered, “Ya, I’m done in this area. I’ll head over to the grid.” Tanner heard him belch loudly as he walked away. 

            Setting up her equipment for evidence collection brought Tanner’s thoughts back to her first patient that needed evidence collected; a woman that was still alive.

            Tanner was an emergency room nurse at Mystic General.  She had been called in to care for a rape victim and collect evidence from her body. Tanner was her SAFE nurse (Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner). Listening to the young woman recall her attack gave Tanner the history and details she needed to guide her in the process of collecting evidence from her body.  Listening to the retelling of the attack made bile rise in Tanner’s throat, and also caused her mind to fight not to flee to another thought.

            Her heart raced from the adrenaline of the fight or flight response as she lived in the moment of the attack with the victim.  She felt her response now as well.  Praying to God in her mind calmed her then, as it calmed her now. 

            “Lord God, help me to focus on the words of the young woman as my mind fights to not hear.  Help me to say the right words of comfort to her as I do the job before me.  Give me a heart of compassion and not a heart of stone as I fight to not cry along with her Lord.  Use me for your service in this, I pray in Jesus name.” 

            Realizing that she was praying the same prayer now as she had prayed during her first forensic case, Tanner realized how God was right here with her.  She calmly finished the set up of her equipment and changed her gloves to begin the collection of evidence process.

          Ceasor stood guard over Tanner as she began collecting her evidence.  He could feel the power of the prayer.  The presence of evil was intently watching them, waiting for an opportunity to strike. This was evident in the increase of repugnant, rancid odor that only Ceasor could smell and the war cries he could hear. He put his right hand on his sword and stood taller as his eyes canvased the woods. John’s guardian was at his full height with his left hand on his sword.                                                                       

            After collecting blood, dried secretions and dirt samples, Tanner collected two light colored hairs from the outside of the young woman’s left thigh and bagged them.  A single gold key was found in her sports bra and bagged into evidence as well.  Thoughts were rapidly floating around Tanners mind, What were you doing when you were attacked? Were you followed here or chosen because you were here? Did you stop to talk to your attacker?  Did you know him? 

            Tanner packed up her evidence kit and cleared the body to go with the Medical Examiner who had arrived.  She headed over to Tim and Steve to see if they needed help. John and Doug met them at the grid. 

            “Why, this girl?  Why, in such a violent manner?” Tanner asked the men as she approached.

            “Clearly the perp. was enraged at her…had to be a crime of passion, don’t you think? Tim asked. 

            “It appears that way since she was not just shot but has a broken neck as well.  The perp. is sending her, as well as the rest of us, a message using the scriptures.  The reason for the murder lies in the scriptures,” John added as he closed up his evidence kit.

            “Do you want me to stay and help recreate the scene or should I start writing this up and get the evidence over to the crime lab?” she asked.

            “We’ll stay here and recreate so you can start the write up and we’ll meet back up at the station in a few hours. I already have the Mystic Police with several Troopers going door to door to see what people heard or saw.  I have to head out and give a statement soon, I’m sure the news crew is kicking up a fit by now.” John said.

            “Call me with any interesting news,” Tanner said with a sarcastic smile as she headed to her Rover.

            The parking lot was full of spectators, as well as news channels five and six. She was bombarded as soon as they saw her.  “What’s going on? We heard there was a murder.”

            “Do you have any leads?” asked the female reporter as she stuck a microphone towards Tanner. 

            “When will the police give a statement?” asked an onlooker.

            Tanner continued to her vehicle as a trooper escorted her away from the news crew.  She knew John would be out soon to give a statement.           

            Once in the safety of her vehicle, Tanner massaged her temples. Looking out at the crowd, she noticed that the earlier spectators were no longer there.  They had been replaced by other town’s people who loved crime scenes.  She recognized a few. “Of course you’re here Roland,” she muttered. Why do perverts always show up a crime scenes…makes me sick…You are going to make us waste our time questioning you again huh, she thought. She put her head back against the head rest and closed her eyes. The sun soaked leather seats enveloped her in a brief second of comfort before she started the Rover.  Backing up out of the parking lot, she turned up the volume on her CD player to Bon Jovi’s song, living on a prayer.   

          She drove the ten minutes to the Mystic Valley CID11 division, singing at the top of her lungs. Ceasor sat beside her in the passenger seat and hummed along to the familiar song, wondering if any other guardian angel knew the words to all of Bon Jovi’s songs.    

                                                                                 

       





        “Tanner is going to be thrown into emotional chaos isn’t she Yahweh.  Michael, the Arc angel, commented to God as they stood at the portal in heaven watching the earthly battle below. 

            “I have allowed the torment to begin and she will need protection from what Satan will use against her in the coming hours and days. She is going to need extra care and comfort as well, for this case will hit her heart. Satan has sent his demons to torture her mind, and to try and destroy her. In the end, this case will make her stronger, but only if she draws closer to me in the process.”

          As God moved from the portal he instructed Michael to send Ceasor two more guardians to assist him in the upcoming days.