Page 10 of Forensics of a Fable

“So, someone brought her here, killed her, and then redressed the scene to appear undisturbed while also covering any evidence? Why here, though? It’s the middle of nowhere.” Olivia asked.

To frame Eamon.Bel didn’t say the words ringing in her brain.

“If not for the bear attack, we wouldn’t know she was here,” Gold continued, and Bel went deathly still, staring at the almost ritualistic scene with a new perspective.

“I don’t think we were supposed to find her,” Bel said. This was Eamon’s property, and the girl had publicly flirted with him. What if she was meant for him? As a warning? As a sacrifice? Bel wasn’t sure, but her stomach twisted painfully. “I think she was meant to stay here.”

“Posed in a nightgown on an oversized chair?” Olivia asked. “If she wasn’t intended for us, why is she here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is this a ritual?” Gold shifted closer to Bel, as if unconsciously searching for strength. “Did we disrupt some kind of ceremony by finding her? And if we did, will the killer try again?”

Alana Drie’sparents dissolved into tears, clutching one another as they sank to their living room couch. Bel’s heart ached for them, knowing the pain they were suffering. She’d lost track of how often she had watched this devastating scene over the years, but no matter how many death notices she delivered, the sorrow never got any easier to endure. She’d learned to keep her emotions locked away so as to not disrupt the family’s grief,but Gold didn’t have the same experience or resolve and was struggling to maintain a professional facade.

“We’ll give you a minute,” Bel said kindly to the Dries, taking Olivia gently by the arm. “Take all the time you need, then if you’re up to it, we would like to ask you some questions.”

The family nodded through their sobs, and Bel pulled her partner into the kitchen. It took only a few minutes to locate the mugs and tea, and she set the kettle on the stove to boil.

“How?” Olivia’s voice stumbled. “How do you do it? How do you not crumble under their grief?”

“This is not my first time,” Bel answered, placing peppermint tea bags into the cups, but when Olivia didn’t answer, she turned and found her partner staring at her.

“I almost didn’t survive these.” Her fingers brushed over the scars on her throat. “And they aren’t just on my neck. They descend to my stomach, and I broke a few bones as well. I didn’t talk about them for months, but I recently received closure about the attack, so I no longer mind. I bring it up because I am the youngest of six girls, and my father had already lost his wife. So, when I was in surgery for hours, he spent all night in the hospital waiting for his daughter to die. My sisters have kids. They couldn’t leave their children overnight, so my dad was alone except for a few police officers. They were all he had as he waited for bad news, and when I survived, they were all he had to hug and cry with.” Bel stepped forward and placed a comforting palm on Olivia’s arm. “The sorrow you’re feeling right now is nothing compared to what those parents are suffering, so when I worry I’m not strong enough to survive their pain, I remember my father. I remember those cops who stayed with him, and I tell myself this isn’t about me. This is about them and the worst day of their lives. This is about people like my dad who need us more at this moment than they’ve ever needed anyone.”

The kettle started steaming, and Bel poured the boiling water into the mugs. “I can ask the questions because I realize that your first death notice is disturbing, but try to remember that even if they lash out, they need us. We can’t bring the dead back, but we can find who did this.”

“I’ll be all right.” Olivia grabbed two of the cups and helped carry them into the living room. “And thanks for telling me about you and your dad.”

Bel smiled, and the women set the tea before the sobbing couple.

“I understand this is difficult, but I would like to ask you some questions. Is that okay?” She asked, and they nodded as they wiped their faces with tissues. “Can you tell me what Alana was doing in Bajka if she doesn’t live in town? I saw her at The Espresso Shot.”

“She worked for Emily in college,” Mrs. Drie sniffled. “When she heard about the fundraiser, she decided to go.”

“That was kind of her,” Bel said, hating herself for being jealous of the brunette flirting with Eamon. “Was she dating anyone?”

“Not that we know of,” Mrs. Drie answered.

“Can you think of any enemies she might have had?” She pressed. “Was she fighting with any of her friends? Did she owe anyone money?”

“No. She was a nice girl. Why would someone do this to her?” Mrs. Drie dissolved into tears, and her husband pulled her against his chest.

“Detectives, I realize you have to ask these questions, but you don’t understand,” Mr. Drie said. “Alana was sweet. We loved her more than life, so I say this was all my adoration, but she was a regular girl. She preferred a boring, predictable life. She didn’t date the bad boys. She was serious and often in bed by 10:00 p.m. Her job paid well, but she didn’t care to go out or party. Herfriends were level-headed. None of them were big drinkers, and they never did drugs. Alana didn’t have enemies or boyfriend drama, and she wasn’t in debt.”

“She doesn’t sound boring,” Bel said kindly. “She sounds like someone who knew what she wanted and was happy with her life.” What she didn’t say was that Alana sounded much like a younger version of herself.

“She was wonderful,” Mrs. Drie agreed. “We just don’t understand why this would happen.”

“I can’t share the specifics of an open case,” Bel said, “but I promise to do everything in my power to find who did this. I realize it won’t bring her back, but I won’t rest until I’ve done all I can.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Drie said.

“Could we get the names of Alana’s friends and where she worked before we leave, and is there anything I can do for you? Family I can contact for you?” Bel asked.

“Of course, we’ll give you that information, and no thank you,” Mr. Drie said. “I appreciate your offer, but I’ll call my brothers. They should hear this from me, and they live close. They’ll be here soon.”

“All right.” Bel pulled her card out of her pocket. “Here is my number. If you think of anything, anything at all, call me. Even if it’s insignificant, you never know. It might help.”

---