“Jeeesus Christ!”

          “Keep it down, Frank. The kid’s right out front.” Susan Sanders told her subordinate.

          “Sorry, chief.” Frank Davis took a couple steps towards the bloody corpse with his hand at the ready on his pistol. As if the gruesome remains were going to suddenly spring back to life at any moment.

          “That’s a closed casket if I ever saw one.” He knelt next to the unrecognizable man whose life had just met a grisly end and tried to keep his composure. He found himself having to cover his mouth to keep from hurling and got back up. “What the hell happened?”

          “Enough,” Susan replied sharply. She took off her sheriff’s hat and waved at the flies that were starting to gather. “Call came in ‘bout six fifteen by Mrs. Jones claimin’ a bear came through the backyard and ripped up her husband somethin’ fierce.”

          “I’ll say. What a mess. Must’ve smelled that food on the grill or somthin’.”

          “And didn’t bother to eat any of it?” Susan lifted the lid of the grill to reveal three fillets of salmon and an assortment of grilled veggies.

          “What are you sayin’?”

          “That we ain’t filin’ this under bear attack just coz Mrs. Jones said so,” she replied. She gave Frank a raised eyebrow and started walking towards her truck.

          “You think she did it?” Frank asked as he followed close behind her.

          “Let’s see what Deputy Nikki finds for us.”

          Susan opened the back-passenger door of her truck and out jumped a German Sheppard. Deputy Nikki knew exactly why she was here and immediately put her nose to the ground and started tracking. The strongest odor was coming from the bloody corpse, so that’s where she headed first.

          As Nikki approached the corpse, Susan gave the German command for no. “Nein!”

          Nikki kept her nose to the ground but stayed away from the body.

          “Just what exactly you lookin’ for?” asked Frank.

          Susan gave him the same look she always gave her deputies for asking stupid questions. “Why don’t you go have a chat with Mrs. Jones? Tell her we need to take her down to the station and ask her a couple questions.”

          “Aye, aye, chief.” Frank made it a couple steps before turning around to ask, “What about the kid?”

          “Well, Mr. Jones ain’t exactly fit for watchin’ him, now is he? Take him with you.”

          “And what if your right? What if mommy killed daddy? You want that kid in the same car as her?”

          Susan let a frustrated sigh leave her nostrils. She hated kids. Loathed them. “I don’t know if he’ll be much safer ridin’ with Nikki.” She lied. Nikki loved kids. Every time Susan’s sister came back for the holidays her nieces and nephews all raced to the dog before ever batting an eye at her. She didn’t mind. She was glad Nikki could keep them occupied so she didn’t have to.

          Frank seemed to know better as well. He waited for the answer he was wanted.

          “Right, fine.”

          Satisfied, Frank turned around and made his way around the corner of the small house to keep an eye on their suspect.

          Susan went back to inspecting the body. She pictured Mrs. Jones stabbing her husband over and over again. This wasn’t just a murder. This was a tribute to hell. Mr. Jones’s face was slashed to bits. What was left of his eyes, nose, and mouth were now puddles of blood. His chest and neck were not spared either. She was no forensics expert, but she would have to guess there were over a hundred stabs. She could only hope he died well before the final stab left its mark.

          What would cause a gal to do something like this?

          She heard Nikki give a signaling bark from the forest behind the house and rushed over to see what she had found.

          Nikki pranced proudly around a plump fir tree about fifty feet into the woods. Underneath, Susan found exactly what she hoped Nikki would search out. She patted her canine companion on the head and gloved up to put the bloody knife into an evidence bag.

         

          When Susan came around the corner of the house Frank could tell that she had found something to increase her suspicion of Mrs. Jones. She gave him a nod and Frank suggested that they all go down to the police station to ‘sort things out’.

          Mrs. Jones looked like she had been through a war. Her hair was matted and greasy, her face gaunt and eyes sunk in. Susan felt nothing but pity for the woman as she watched her swaying back and forth with her arms wrapped around herself. She knew Mrs. Jones had to be a couple years shy of thirty. Though, the ragged woman looked much older than herself, who was a couple years past it.

          The kid was playing with some toy trucks near a pile of rocks not far from the dirt driveway.

          Did he not know his dad was just savagely murdered? 

          “Bryan, why don’t you ride with Sheriff Susan and Deputy Nikki?” Frank shouted over to him.

          “Okay!” Bryan yelled back.

          Frank escorted Mrs. Jones to his cruiser and she gave no complaint about riding in the back.

          Bryan hopped into the back seat of the truck where Nikki was waiting to shower him with kisses. He giggled as he tried to push the excited dog’s face away from his own.

          “Nikki, that’s enough now,” Susan said as she started up her truck.

          “It’s okay!” the boy said between giggles. “We used to have a dog. Daddy had to find him a new home coz he kept chasing the cows.”

          Susan furrowed her brow. She could more than guess what ‘find a new home’ entailed. She suddenly felt slightly less sorry for Mr. Jones.

          “I think Daddy shot him though,” he said.

          Sharp kid.

         

          When they arrived at the station the setting sun was just starting to change the colors of the sky to a mix of purple, pink, and orange. The station itself was a small tin building with a lobby, a cell, and a room for questioning. Susan instructed Bryan to wait in the lobby with Nikki while she and Frank asked his mom some questions.

          In the questioning room, Mrs. Jones was already halfway through her second cigarette before Susan entered.

          “I know what yuns is thinkin’.” She blew out a large puff of smoke. “I did not kill my husbin’.”

          “Mrs. Jones,” Susan started.

          “Darla,” she corrected. “I prefer Darla.”

          Susan started again, “Darla, you said a bear did that to your husband, correct?”

          “That’s right.” Another large inhale from her cigarette.

          “We didn’t find any tracks.”

          “Well, yuns wasn’t lookin hard nuff.”    

          Darla’s feet tapped against the floor at a maddening pace. It reminded Susan of a hummingbird flapping its wings.

          “My K-9 and I have tracked our fair share of bears in this county. We’ve also seen a bear attack or two. Never seen one do what been done to your man, though.”

          Frank tried to play the good cop. It wasn’t something he was trained to do or something that was preplanned, but he felt bad for the lady. He wanted to give her way out. “Did your husband have any enemies that you know of?”

          Darla put the cigarette out in the small black ash tray that sat on her side of the table. “Jeb had plenty people din’t like him. He could be a real sonuvabitch sometimes.”

          “Can you elaborate on that?” Susan asked.

          “Labur-what?”

          “Go inta more detail. What kinda business was Mr. Jones in?” Frank asked.

          “You mean yuns don’t know? Shi-it. I thought word got round bettur’in that.” Darla compulsively pulled another cigarette from her pack and lit it. “He was movin’ ice. Now I’m not gonna tell yuns who was cookin’ it fir him, coz that I don’t know. But I reckon if it wasn’t a bear what did him like that then it coulda been somethin’ to do with that.”

          “So, you didn’t see the bear?” Susan asked.

          “No! I just seen my husband and figgerd it had to’ve been a bear. Thought it must’ve mauled him and took off inta the woods.”

          “And you didn’t hear your husband gettin’ attacked?” Susan asked.

          “I din’t hear nothin’. Me and Bryan was on a walk.”

          “While food was on the grill? Odd time to go for a stroll.”

          “We wusn’t far off.”

          “Then how did you not hear your husband getting mauled by a bear?”

          “I don’t know!” Darla shouted. It was clear she was getting very frazzled.

          “Let’s take a break,” Frank suggested.

          Susan and Darla stared at each other unblinking until Susan finally stood up and exited the room.

          “Sit tight,” Frank told Darla as he followed Susan into the hallway.

          She gestured towards Bryan and then gestured towards her truck so they could talk out of earshot of the kid.

 

          “I say we lock her up, and you better have a damn good reason if you say otherwise,” Susan said as soon as they got into her truck.

          “We don’t have enough evidence yet, chief. If we go lockin’ up moms on false accusations, you can bet that Kathleen Pettit down at the Langston News Leader is gonna have a field day. Remember when you kept the wrong Halloween prankster last year?”

          “Why was everyone a grim reaper? Kids needs to be more original. Then that kinda stuff wouldn’t happen.”

          Is he right? Am I just lookin’ for an excuse to put my cell to use?

          Susan opened her center console and showed Frank the blood-stained knife.

          “Ya, I figgerd as much, but until you get that back from the lab, all we’ve done is prove a bear innocent. It still don’t mean she done it.”

          “Com’on Frank, she’s fidgetin’ worse than a long tailed cat in a room fulla rockin’ chairs.”

          “I’ll admit, it don’t look good for her. But you heard what she said about dealin’ meth. Tweakers don’t play by the same rules as reglar folk. That drug rips out any humanity that’s left in a person. It could’ve been his supplier. And from the looks of it, this supplier was fixin’ to make a statement.”

          Susan closed her center console. The sun had set, and the first stars of the night were starting to twinkle. “I don’t want her leavin’ the county. That’s fir damn sure. I also don’t want her goin’ back to that house and disturbin’ the scene of the crime.”

          “I’ll see if we can find her another place to stay,” he said as he exited the truck.

          “Within the county,” she repeated.

 

          They made their way back to the room they left Darla in and Susan stopped to check on Nikki and the kid. He was sitting cross legged on the floor with Nikki’s head resting in his lap.

          “Chief!” Frank yelled from the back.

          She rushed over to him and knew everything she needed to know by the look on his face. Someone had forgotten to lock the door behind them. They both raced out the backdoor to see if they could catch a glimpse of where Darla had run off to.

          “Damn!” Frank yelled when they saw no sign of her. He pulled out his flashlight and shown it into the thick woods behind the station. Shadows grew and slunk away as the light illuminated only a small section of the trees. 

          “Darla!” Susan shouted. “Don’t make me send the dog after ya!”

          Nikki wasn’t trained to bite, but Darla didn’t know that. At the very least they’d be able to find her.

          “Com’on now, Darla!” Frank yelled into the dark woods.

          Silence. Only the steady chirping of mother nature. Then a rustle of leaves and the sound of branches being broken.

          “Got her!” Frank yelled. He raced into the woods after the sound.

          Susan pulled out her own flashlight, but it flicked off as soon she turned it on. Shit. “Frank! My lights dead! I’m gonna switch out the batt’ries right quick!”

          No answer, but she could see his light bouncing around in the woods. She ran back into the station to her desk in the lobby. Bryan was standing in the center of the lobby giggling. Nikki sat loyally by his side.

          “Mommy ran away,” he said with a laugh.

          Susan pulled open a couple drawers until she found the batteries she was looking for. She replaced them as quickly as possible and rushed back out to help Frank find their escapee.

          “Frank?” she yelled into the darkness. There was no reply, and even worse, the light from his flashlight was nowhere to be seen.

          She flicked her own light on and pointed it into the woods. Again, all that could be heard was the sounds of chirping. Except this time the increased drumming of her heart was also added into the mix.

          “Got-damnit, Frank!” she said as she took her first steps into the dark woods. She frantically pointed the flashlight all around her. Flinching at every crack of a twig, jumping at every shadow the branches created. Anything not illuminated by her flashlight became the hauntings of her own imagination. She could see faces and figures in the dark.

          Calm down, Susie. Just breathe.

          She pulled out her pistol and held it under her flashlight. She had never had to use it before. Had never even had to pull it out of its holster before.

          Just breathe.

          A wholly unnatural screech came from further in the forest.

          God help me.

          She slowly crept toward the source of the sound. She was shaking so bad that her flashlight and gun were tapping against one another. After about fifty feet, her eyes caught a glimpse of the familiar dark blue of Frank’s jacket. He was lying face down. And he wasn’t moving.

          “Frank?!”

          He didn’t stir. She ran over and turned him over, jumping back from surprise as soon as she did. His nose had been completely ripped off. His neck was also missing large chunks of skin and muscle. She wanted to mourn the loss of her fellow officer, but the fear wouldn’t allow it. She was rattled to the core. Nothing in the academy could have prepared her for this.

          A low deep growl came from behind her. Close behind her. She turned around quickly, prepared to shoot. Nothing. She tried to listen to her surroundings, but it was tough to hear anything over her own hyper-ventilating.

          Pain ignited on the back of her head and she soon found herself on the ground with someone on top of her. She dropped her gun and flashlight during the fall and desperately tried to keep what she assumed to be Darla off her. She could hear the gnashing of teeth as Darla wrestled to pin her arms down. She kicked Darla in the groin and shoved her off. The fallen flashlight pointed right at her gun. She dove for it and fired in the direction that she had shoved Darla.

          Darla howled in pain. “You bitch! You stupid bitch!”

          Susan kept her gun pointed at her and reached over to pick up the flashlight. Darla lunged at her again, and Susan fired her gun.

          Darla fell back and rolled around on the ground like a wounded animal caught in a trap. Screaming and cussing the entire time.

          “Hands on the ground! Stay down!”

          If Darla had heard, she didn’t acknowledge. She kept on with her screaming, rolling, and cussing.

          Susan felt the back of her head and when her hand returned, she saw blood. More blood than she had hoped.

          Darla finally stopped screaming and laid flat on her back. “It wasn’t me,” she cried. “The whispers. The whispers made me do it.” Now she was sobbing unconsolably. “Just kill me. I don’t want the whispers to come back. Please, just kill me.”

          “Darla, you know that’s not how this works.”

          Darla pulled Frank’s gun out of her jacket pocket and put to her head.

          “Darla!” Susan shouted.

          Spit fell from her mouth as she sobbed a hard and silent sob.

          “Let’s just talk,” Susan said as she took a step toward her.

          “No more whispers.”

          Darla fired the gun and her body immediately fell limp after the blood and brains shot out the other side of her head.

          Susan leaned back against a tree and tried to gather her wits.

          What the hell was that?

 

          She walked back to the station and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer for her head. She called in the other two deputies and made another call to the coroner to come pick up Darla and poor Frank.

          Bryan was still giggling and playing with Nikki in the lobby.

          Must be nice. Being so innocent and oblivious.

         

          When her other deputies arrived, she instructed one to help the coroner with the bodies and the other to track down a place to take Bryan for the night.

          Then she went back to the Jones’s residence to pack some clothes for him. He insisted on staying with Nikki, so she reluctantly let him come along. She didn’t feel good about sitting in the same truck as a boy whose mother she had just killed, but then again, she didn’t feel much of anything at all. The shock of the evening had fried all her emotional nerve endings.

          At the Jones residence, Susan took note of some odd things in the house. At first glance it looked like your average tweaker house. Better actually. Then she noticed that Bryan’s bedroom was full of new looking toys, a comfy full-size bed, and was in the master bedroom of the house. The other bedroom had only a pile of sheets on the floor. The kitchen cabinets were full of nothing but mac and cheese, and the fridge was stacked full of blue Kool-Aid.  

          She filled up a Spider-man backpack full of clothes and went back out to the truck.

          “I’m excited for our sleepover, Sheriff Susan!” Bryan exclaimed.

          Susan’s phone started her Ring of Fire ringtone.

          Thank God! Please be good news!

          “Sheriff Sanders,” she answered.

          “Hey, chief?”

          “Go ahead, Steve.”

          “Ya, kid’s got a grandma out on farm road 317. I got ahold of her and she said she’d take him for the night.”

          “Thanks, Steve. You’re a lifesaver!” And hung up.

          “Alright Bryan, looks like your grandma is gonna watch you for tonight.”

          “Noo! I thought I was staying with you and Nikki!” Bryan protested.

          “Sorry, kid. I think you’d be much better off with your grandma.”

          No way in hell are you staying with me, kid.

          Then Bryan moved close behind the driver’s seat. “I want to stay with you and Nikki,” he whispered in her ear.

          Kid’s aren’t all that bad, I guess. He can stay with me.