Homicide

Unrelated stories that take place in a setting besides Star Wars...

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WindWaker
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Homicide

Post by WindWaker » Mon Aug 29, 2005 9:41 pm

OOC: Hey guys. I'm bored. 'Nuff said. I'll make an OOC thread later, so for now just enjoy! ;)

Oh, and there may be some explicit stuff in here down the road, so here's the warning. Ta da.




December, 1985

Suburb outside of Denver, Colorado


"Ricky? My boy, where are you?"

The eldery grandfather shuffled through the heavy snow on his cane, shifting his view around the large backyard covered with snow-lain trees. A pair of mourning doves cooed from the oak to his right, startling him. The man continued onward to the back, a wooden fence signalling the end of the property.

"Ricky Stevens, you come out here right this instan..."

"HERE I AM GRANDPA!" the boy yelled, jumping out of the nearest tree onto his terrified grandfather. The pair quickly fell into the snow laughing with each other.

"Ricky, I didn't even see you there! You've gotten quite good at ambushing me lately."

The six year old smiled and began to make a snow angel. "You were the bad guy, Grandpa, and I got you! Just like Daddy does as a police man!"

The grandfather nodded as he got up, picking the snow out of his thinning hair. "That he does, son, and he's very good at it too. They're talking about making him Chief of Police soon. Wouldn't that be great?"

Ricky laughed and began to go stalk more bad guys among the trees. "C'mon Grandpa, I'll race you back to the house!"

The modest suburban house came into view as Grandpa and Ricky walked back. They quickly entered it, shaking off the cold from the weather outside. A warm fire in the living room looked very inviting, which the young boy curled up next to.

The elder man took both of their coats (Ricky had discarded his on the floor) and went to put them on the hooks, but stopped when he heard a disquieting sound from the kitchen. Gentle sobbing.

"Carolyn, what's the matter?" he said, putting his arm around his daughter at the dinner table. Placemats filled with Sesame Street characters smiled back at them in the flourescent light. The phone lay off the hook next to her, beeping.

"It's...it's Jim, Dad. He's...he's hurt bad," she struggled through her tears.

"What happened? Where is he?"

"...Detective Johnston just told me they're taking him to the hospital...Drug raid gone bad, he said... saved all of them, but..." the mother trailed off, looking at the linoleum floor.

"C'mon darlin', we'll meet them at the hospital. I'll go get Ricky..."

"NO!" Carolyn screamed getting up, pushing her chair to the floor. "He can't see him like that! Of course not! He's his hero!"

"Carolyn, honey," he spoke soothingly, trying to calm her down, "he has to see him. He's his only son. Let's go."

The grandfather slowly walked in and picked up the snoozing Ricky off of the living room rug as Carol left to get the keys. "Wha..Grandpa? Where we goin'?" he asked, rubbing his dark green eyes.

"To go see Daddy."
The only difference between good and evil is an opinion.

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WindWaker
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Post by WindWaker » Fri Sep 02, 2005 12:26 pm

Present day

Oak Springs, Colorado


"Detective Stevens, Homicide."

"Hey Rick, Tim here. We just got a DB down at the Sunlight Motel. Suspicious circumstances. Want to take it?"

"Sure, got nothing better to do. I'll be there in 10."

The thirty-six year old detective hung up the phone and slowly massaged his temples with his fingertips. It was barely 8 o'clock in the morning and it felt like he had been up for a lifetime. The graveyard shift had been hell, as always.

"You'd think for a small town there wouldn't be many deaths," Rick mumbled to himself as he got up from his chair. He grabbed his jacket off the hook and left his quaint office, making his route to the exit door.

"Hey Stevens, got you a cap. Thought you looked like you needed it."

"Thanks Charlotte," Rick replied with a grin, taking the cappuccino from the female detective from Information Crimes.

"I would say call me Amy, but I guess we've already tried that, haven't we?"

"Old habits die hard, I guess," Rick answered with a nod, taking a sip of the hot drink and leaving his acquaintance to watch him leave the station.

Exactly 7 and a half minutes later, much to the help of the new highway just opened up in the middle of the town and the beautiful weather, Rick Stevens pulled up to the Sunlight Motel.

Not one of the finest sleepovers in the city, the place's paint was peeling off almost everywhere you could imagine. It resembled an old war hero that had once been strong and proud but was now dilapitated and torn. Rick parked his Chevy by the other police cars in the parking lot and walked into the scene, ducking under the usual yellow tape.

The murder occurred in one of the hotel rooms, it seemed. The golden number 45 shown bright in the morning sunshine next to the door of the white room. Rick took it down on his notepad. "So what we got here, Chief?" he asked when he got inside. Police Chief Tim Livingston turned around and gestured to something in the room.

"Rick Stevens, meet John Do."
The only difference between good and evil is an opinion.

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WindWaker
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Post by WindWaker » Sat Sep 03, 2005 2:30 pm

"So no identity for the DB?" Rick ventured, looking around the small motel room. No blood on the walls or on the floor. Most things in their corrective places. Just one body on the Queen-sized bed.

The thing that interested the homicide detective most at first was the strange placement of the body on the covers. His arms were crossed on his chest, much like you would see the vampires doing in the old movies while resting in their coffins. The man was Oriental, his eyes staring at the ceiling as if asking the eternal question: "Why did this happen to me?"

"Nope. Name's on the driver's license: John Do."

"You've got to be kidding me..." Rick looked again at the body. He wore the typical businessman's suit. A beige/tan ensemble finished with a turquoise tie and white dress shirt. Neatly combed black hair rested on his head.

"Heh, sorry Stevens. Nothing but the truth, so help me. I called Neeb to get over here about the same time I called you. Should be here in a minute."

Tony Neebson, or Mr. Neeb as everyone in the force called him, was the Medical Examiner for the Oak Springs Police Department. He was what one would call an eccentric most of the time, his hobbies including insect breeding, road kill investigating and exotic plant growing.

"So we got any background info on this guy?"

"Nah, but soon. I asked the guys back at HQ to look it up for me. And with that, I'm off. Good luck, Detective," the Chief said, patting him on the shoulder as he made his way out the door.

Rick was left all but alone now, the only other officer being the guard stationed outside the door. He moved even closer to the body as he slipped on the plastic gloves customary at the scene of a crime. A few small red words were etched on the man's forehead, which Rick was surprised he had missed before. They appeared to be in blood. "What the...?"

Sandra Lives
The only difference between good and evil is an opinion.

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