Page 15 of Only Girl Alive

After processing his body, Eve quickly removed her gloves, shoe covers, and bodysuit, shoving them into the plastic bag where her previous used items were collected. She had to go outside and breathe. The smell of death clung to her. The overcast sky echoed the gloom of the house. Three techs from the medical examiner’s office, avoiding the cold, waited in one of the two vans she had requested.

She spoke to them quickly and took them into the house, forced to give up her desire for fresh air. She escorted them to each body and watched as they zipped them into bags and put them on gurneys. Eve taped the bags and added her initials with a Sharpie where the tape crossed.

“George said to tell you the autopsies are scheduled for day after tomorrow, if that works?” one of the techs said.

George was her favorite pathologist at the medical examiner’s office and she was glad he was on board. “Tell him I’ll make it work.”

The techs left and Eve went to the van to grab Bina for a bathroom run using the SUV. The guys would go after their return.

Once everyone was back, they began collecting DNA samples. It was always a relief after the bodies were gone. It took two additional hours before they were ready to call it a very long day.

Though tired, they still had an evening meeting to get through and she had photos to analyze.

Eve spoke briefly to the officer assigned to hold the scene overnight. He snapped his words at her, which was normal for law enforcement here. It didn’t matter that she was old enough to be his mother. Respect came with your male anatomy and commitment to God and Eve had neither. Women were forbidden from guiding their husbands on any subject and they were to never disagree. A husband or brother’s command was the word of God and women were to stay sweet.

Sweet did not go hand in hand with the woman Eve was today.

She left the officer with orders to notify her if anyone tried to get onto the scene or if anything unusual happened. It would be too much to hope the killer would come by but it never hurt to be prepared. Strange things occurred at homicide scenes and they had to be ready for anything.

Ray and Collin picked up their own food using the van. Bina, Clyde, and Eve, in the SUV, went for a salad from the mini-mart a few blocks from the hotel, hoping they would escape without food poisoning.

They met to eat in Eve’s room after everyone changed into comfortable clothes that did not smell like death. They each had a sealed bag back in the van for their crime scene laundry so they didn’t need to sleep with it in their rooms. They had a special storage compartment they kept the bags in so the smell didn’t carry into the van, which was also used for interviews. They had learned to work in this area as efficiently as possible.

“First thoughts?” Eve asked while picking purple cabbage from her salad. “Ray, I know you have thoughts.” It was a joke and it received a chuckle from the others.

Ray held up three fingers. “Premeditated, personal, and one perpetrator. I’ll stop there.”

“Blood throughout the bathroom,” said Bina after wiping her mouth. “The killer, and I agree with Ray, was a single person. They showered and cleaned the blood off after the murders. Tossed the towels on the floor and piled them in the corner by the shower. The person knew exactly what they were doing and didn’t feel rushed for time. Premeditated and personal, like Ray said. We may be able to isolate the perpetrator’s DNA from that of the family, depending on how many people in the house used those towels.”

Eve had photographed the evidence placards in the bathroom and reached the same conclusion as Bina. It wasn’t a passing stranger from outside the community. This was someone who understood the tidiness of a fundamentalist home. If Aaron didn’t know who did these killings, he darn sure knew it was someone local.

“I’ve got a weird vibe,” Collin tossed out, and they all groaned. His vibes were legendary.

“When is being in this county not weird?” Ray teased.

Collin doubled down. “This time things are even more off than usual. Has anyone noticed we haven’t been followed since our arrival?”

Within fifteen minutes of entering polygamist territory, they usually picked up a God squad tail. This was a group of unmarried younger men who acted as security for the community. They were to intimidate those who didn’t belong and keep an eye on the women given permission to leave their homes. Eve’s unit gave little thought to the bullying because they were accustomed to it and it didn’t scare them. Thinking back to the trip from the crime scene to the hotel, Aaron’s office, and then fast food before returning to the scene, she realized Collin was right: she hadn’t been followed. This was exceedingly strange.

It was time for her to add her two cents. “I agree with Collin. Something is off. Where’s the law enforcement interference? The chief of police hasn’t shown up at the scene. Not a single looky-loo has come by to gape. We have four bodies and no one has asked about them as human beings. My stepbrother is worried about something but is playing it down. Normal should never be attached to any murders, especially these.”

“It’s personal. The killer is a close family member,” Clyde interjected. They fell silent in thought.

From their expressions, this scenario had been nagging at them all.

Ten

The men left and Bina entered the bathroom for a shower. Eve had decided to clean up at the sink. When she washed her hair, it was a long and difficult task. Fortunately, there was a vanity outside the bathroom with what she needed. She was able to scrub her body with a washcloth and remove the last vestiges of death. When she was done, she pulled a long, soft nightshirt over her head.

She hadn’t taken her hair down in front of anyone since she was a child. After moving a straight-backed chair to the sink, she removed the large clip and then the pins that helped keep it tightly secured. The brown mass instantly began unwinding. With each twist, the pull on her scalp loosened. Using her fingertips, she massaged her scalp and allowed the stress of the day to fade.

She lifted the brush and pulled it through the strands, relaxing more with each stroke. Once the shiny weight settled around her shoulders and back, she took a deep breath and enjoyed the freedom. Her hair was a natural blend of lighter and darker shades of brown. She’d never dyed it and so far, she’d only found a few gray hairs which didn’t bother her. With the small lines at the corners of her eyes, she looked more like her mother with every year that passed.

When ready, she divided her hair into three sections and weaved it until she had one long plait. The braid reached her lower back. She held the weighted length in her hand, hating it, and hating herself for refusing to let such a simple remnant of brainwashing go.

With shoulders back and head high, she said aloud the same line she’d used since her sixteenth birthday. “I am not the property of the prophet and I am more than a vessel for children.” Each word rang with resolve in her heart. The fact she recited this after so many years bothered her, but she used the words to ground herself.

Women’s uncut hair will wash the feet of Christ upon his return, she’d been taught to believe. Its length proved subservience to the prophet. Women of the church piled their hair high as a sign of their righteousness. They were told pride was a sin, but this was almost an acceptable form of pride. A woman’s hair meant everything.

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