Page 83 of Precise Justice

“Ouch. Messy?” Jefferson asked.

“Not really. Benny thinks she died quickly and the bleeding stopped right away,” Argent replied.

“I’ll go take a look. Why don’t you go home? We have plenty of people on hand.”

“I was just about to. Good to see you again, Owen. I’ll have my report for you first thing tomorrow morning.”

THIRTY-THREE

Dear Diary:January 17th

Still no word from the detectives investigating Mother Dear’s death. The autopsy report came back. She was suffocated with a pillow.

Dad found a few more things missing. The detectives asked me why it was I did not tell them about these things. What could I say? I told them I did not know about them. I don’t think they believed me.

It’s been one week since Alice Griebler, the school nurse at Sanger was murdered. I can’t deny it any longer. My memory of where I was and what I was doing at the time she was killed is a total blank. I was literally praying that it would come back. At least something. But nothing. Why was she murdered and what was I doing? Now I’m afraid to findout. I no longer want to have my memory return.

Detective Lucy Compton, MPD, leaned back in her desk chair and stretched her arms above her head. At the same time Lucy swiveled her head around as if taking the kinks out of her neck from sitting too long bent over her desk. Her partner, Melissa Myles, sat at her desk watching Lucy stretch.

“Almost three weeks and the Priscilla Powell case is colder than…” Melissa started to say.

“The proverbial witch’s tit in a brass bra,” Lucy finished for her.

“I was gonna say weather,” Melissa said.

“Yeah, that, too,” Lucy said.

“Hey, Benson,” Lucy said to a male detective who was walking past the women’s desks.

“Yeah, Lucy?” Detective Phil Benson asked.

“How you guys doing on that school nurse case?” Lucy asked.

“Nowhere,” Benson answered. “We can’t come up with a motive. We’ve questioned everyone we can think of. It’s like she was a nonentity. None of the staff or students have anything much to say about her at all, good or bad. And, no one knows anything about anyone having a beef with her.

“She lived by herself in a small house over by Nokomis. Neighbors knew her well and liked her. No boyfriends, ex-husbands or kids.”

“A faceless nobody putting in her time at a thankless job,” Melissa said.

“Exactly,” Benson said. “Less than six months from a maximum pension.”

“Brutal murder,” Lucy said.

“And that’s strange, too. Benny Shambhani says it was a three-inch straight claw hammer,” Benson said using two fingers to illustrate the prongs of a straight claw hammer.

“Whoever did it was angry. Three hits to the top of her skull. Benny says the first one would have done it.”

“Someone wanted to make sure,” Lucy said.

“Our shrink told us it looks random and we should expect more,” Benson said.

“A serial?” Melissa asked.

“Maybe, we’ll see.”

Benson walked off and the women went back to Priscilla’s murder.

“I just had a thought,” Melissa told Lucy.

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