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Hand on my sidearm, I scan the forest, not seeing what has Pepper’s attention. The radio on my shoulder crackles before the chief’s voice echoes through the forest.
“We hear Officer Pepper. We are approaching.”
I don’t command Pepper to stand down as I respond. “Base of the mountain. One hiker on scene.”
Chief Emerson comes into view with my partner, Officer Wooler, and Theo Black, an EMT from the fire department, and I command Pepper to stand down.
Officer Wooler and I cruise town together on the days Pepper is off duty. Unlike me, Starla Wooler prefers reports and desk detail over responding to calls and driving around town. Because of that, we have a symbiotic work relationship. I respond to disgruntled calls and do the face-to-face work, then deliver all the details to her and let her fill out the report. We both sign off on it after I review it and call it a day.
Until today, there hasn’t been a case that required additional officers on scene. Not since I’ve been on the force. Not for more than twenty years, when Dad was a rookie.
“What do we know?” Chief asks as he surveys the hiker.
“Visitor staying at the Barron cabin was out hiking and came across the body. A young woman behind the boulder.” I point toward the large chunk of granite. “I have yet to survey the scene.”
Chief takes out his phone. “Capture photos before we touch anything. Once we know what we’re working with, I’ll decide if we need more help.” He snaps a few pictures, then looks at Wooler. “Interview the hiker. I want every last detail. What time it was when he found her. If anything looked, sounded, or smelled out of the ordinary. If he touched the victim or anything in proximity to the victim. How long he’s been at the cabin. If he’s hiked this same path any other day since his arrival, and when, if yes.” He looks at me, then back at Wooler. “No detail is inconsequential.”
“Yes, sir, Chief,” Wooler states as she pulls out her phone and taps the screen.
“Emerson, Black,” Chief says as he heads for the boulder. “Let’s go.”
“Officer Pepper,gehen,” I command her to go and she stays in step beside me as we follow Chief and Theo.
Retrieving my phone, I open the camera app and take photos while Chief does the same. Two sets of pictures are better than one. I circle around the opposite side of the boulder from Chief and Theo, getting a different vantage point of the scene.
Pepper becomes agitated the closer we get, whining and squirming, tugging me forward. I flip my camera to video mode and start recording. A simultaneous gasp leaves us all as we round the boulder.
“Sitz, Officer Pepper.”Sit.I point a finger down and Pepper immediately sits. “Bleib.”Stay. I hold up a hand, my palm facing her, and she sits taller. Proud.
Giving the scene a wide berth, I circle around with my phone held high and record the lay of the land. Chief snaps countless photos, and slowly we move closer to the woman. Theo tugs on a pair of gloves and sets his medic bag down before moving in closer.
Pale lips peek through fallen foliage, along with a hint of dull, blonde hair. Most of her body is covered with leaves and evergreen needles, but enough is exposed to show her lack of clothing and see specific features.
“Get your pictures,” Theo states. “I’m calling in for additional help.”
Chief nods and we continue capturing the scene. A moment later, I’m handed a pair of gloves. “Continue with the video as we uncover her.”
Gently, we clear the foliage from the body. I tunnel my vision and focus on the task, detaching emotionally. Finished, we straighten and take different shots of the scene. Close-ups of her face and body. Theo steps in, scoops his hands under her torso, and lifts her slightly.
“She’s been here eight hours, minimum,” Theo announces. He jerks his chin toward her backside. “See the purple hue on her skin?”
“Yes,” we say simultaneously.
“Lividity,” he says with surety as he gently lowers her to the ground. “Happens post mortem. Blood ‘sinks’ in the body”—he air quotes the wordsinks—“in the direction of gravity.” He lifts her and checks the underside of her limbs. “The purple discoloration happens after about eight hours.” He looks over his shoulder at us. “But given the cooler temperature, it could’ve taken longer.”
Ending the video, I stare down at the young woman. She appears to be in her early twenties. Cuts and bruises mar the front of her torso. Blood crusts the hair at her temple, but her face appears otherwise clean. Her body lies perfectly straight, as if she laid down for bed and never woke up.
And when I take a step back and look at the scene as a whole, I stop breathing. At my sides, my hands shake. Nausea rolls in my stomach and I swallow past the fear clawing up my throat. The backs of my eyes sting and I blink several times, fighting the tears that threaten to fall.
I don’t personally know this woman; I don’t recall ever seeing her in town, but her resemblance to Kirsten is uncanny. Same build, same facial structure, same color hair. The similarities are eerie.
“Take five,” Chief orders, his eyes locked on my face. “We’ll be here a bit longer.”
Nodding, I step around the boulder and suck in a deep breath.
It’s not her. It’s not her. It’s not her.
No matter how many times I chant the words in my head, my mind refuses to stop comparing the lifeless woman to Kirsten. My gut twists, bile climbing up and burning my throat. I curl my fingers into fists and inhale deeply, begging the mental image to disappear.
