The River Runs Dry (2 page)

Jack nodded. “Thank you very much Mrs Paige, Mr Paige. I apologize, it's all just a formality. Please, feel free to go. I'll be in touch if I have any other questions.”

They hurriedly stepped into the car and shot off in a cloud of red smoke.

“Anything?” asked Carla, walking back over.

Jack huffed. “From them, no. Have you checked missing persons?”

“Yes sir. Four in Burgess over the past couple of months, several more in smaller outlying towns and villages. This girl could be from anywhere though, she could be a runaway from any state.”

“Yeah, well, let's start local first. Send those over to me and I'll check them over back in my office.”

“Sure Jack. Anything else?”

“Just get the body to the coroner as soon as you can.”

Carla nodded before moving back over to the scene.

The sun continued to beat down, causing sweat to build in patches, soaking through Jack's shirt. He took a long swill of water before gazing around at the open landscape.

It was barren and bare for miles in every direction, no towns or settlements anywhere in sight or anywhere on the map.
Clever place to leave a body really. No one ever comes out here, and the desert would quickly eat it up.

He walked further, moving off away from the river in the direction of the nearest road in the area.
If the killer brought her out here, it would have had to be by car, so he'd have had to have driven from the main road through the desert.

He crept on, scanning the parched earth for any signs of footprints or tire marks. It was a long shot. Out here the surface of the desert would change overnight, with winds bringing new sands across and washing away any tracks.

A flickering caught Jack's eye, something dark tangled up within the withered branches of a dying shrub. He moved in for a closer look, leaning down to the earth to see a clump of hair, matted with dried blood, stuck fast in a tangle of twigs. He quickly reached for a pair of tweezers and pulled the clump away, placing it inside a sealed forensics bag.

It looked like the killer had cut the hair off the girl's head, cutting right down to the scalp in places. Or maybe, just maybe, it was their own blood. Perhaps they'd cut their hand or she'd caused some harm in their struggle.

Jack quickly stood and paced back towards the body, where a team of forensics were now carefully removing the body and bagging it up. The smell was vile as the rotting flesh threatened to fall straight from the bone, the limbs hanging awkwardly as they were carefully placed into a body bag.

“Here,” Jack said, passing Carla the pack of hair, “looks like our killer has a fetish for spoiling haircuts.”

She took it and looked at it closely. “Yeah, that explains the torn up hair. Do you think they cut it? It might have been ripped in a fight.”

“The frayed ends would suggest it was cut,” Jack said quickly. “But check the dried blood. You never know, it might be the killer's and we might just get lucky.”

Somehow, Jack Slade didn't want his first murder case to be that easy to crack.

Chapter 2

 “Table 5 Jess, quick quick,” came the voice from across the kitchen.

Jessie Trent ambled over and scooped up the two plates of food sitting on the counter. Well, food was putting a nice spin on it. This looked more like the sort of mulch you'd get served in prison.

Another day, another shift.

“Thank you kindly darlin',” came the southern accent as she dropped the two plates of mush down onto table 5. “Here you go sweetheart, for your trouble.”

The middle aged man passed over a 5 dollar bill, slipping it into her apron pocket like he was sliding it up a strippers g-string. He wore a friendly smile under his cowboy hat, though, so Jessie quickly knew there was nothing more to it than a nice man giving a girl a tip.

A woman sat opposite him, dressed down in a light blouse and with a large summer hat covering her head. She held a fan out in front of her, waving it around gently to cool herself down. In this godawful diner there wasn't even any aircon, making days like today a real test.

Frankly, it's a wonder anyone even comes in here!

“Say darlin,” the man said, lifting his head from his food as he took his first bite, “what would you recommend for an old couple like us to do round here?”

“How do you mean?” Jessie asked curiously. “Like sightseeing?”

The man nodded as he shoved a forkful of mashed potato into his mouth. “My lovely wife and I are taking a trip through the state. We're moving over to Vegas in a few days but thought we'd see a little of Death Valley before we spend all our kids' college funds.” He chucked loudly at his own joke. His wife didn't look so amused.

“Well, there's a good tour guide down the road. They do lots of trips into the desert, so I guess they're probably the best people to ask.”

“And how about a spa or anything like that around town? Somewhere to wash all this dust off...”

Jessie shook her head.
A spa? In Burgess. Not likely.

“No real spas in town I'm afraid. There's a public swimming pool a couple of streets away if you wanna cool off, but that's the best you're gonna find around here.”

“Yeah well we could do with some of that,” said the man's wife, still swaying her fan in front of her face.

“I would have thought you'd be used to the heat....you know, with your accents. Where are you from?”

The woman laughed. “Texas, the both of us, born and raised. But we live over in Florida now. It's the sea, it keeps us young.”

Jessie smiled. “Well it seems to be working,” she said. “I'm gonna dry up like a prune if I stay here too long!”

“Well you should get out,” said the man, “an attractive girl like you shouldn't be stuck in a dusty old town like this. How about you come along with us, you can marry one of our sons.”

“Billy,” said the wife, slapping him on the arm, “don't hassle the poor girl.”

“No, it's fine, I get a lot worse working here, I can tell you....”

“Jessie! Jessie! Table 9!” The hissed words came from behind, the manager standing out near the main serving counter.

Brian. Boring Brian. He lived and breathed this crappy diner, and that's pretty much the biggest insult you could give him.

“Yes Brian,” said Jessie, getting a knowing look from the southern couple as they returned to their meals.

Jessie moved off and continued taking orders for her allotted tables before returning to the kitchen carrying a pile of plates and cutlery. She dropped them down into an empty sink and quickly soaked a cloth, pressing it to her head.

Jesus Christ when is this heat gonna end.

“Long day huh?” It was Darcia, another waitress and Jessie's best friend in town. She walked in from the back door, spilling a harsh light into the kitchen. Her breath smelt of cigarettes, a habit that had never caught on with Jessie.

“Isn't every day long?” Jessie smirked, wiping the cool cloth down her face.

“How about a drink later on? It's Friday, you know what that means!”

Jessie shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know what that means.”

“So, how about it? All the guys will be there,” she said, with a hint of suggestion in her voice.

“I know, where else would they be in this town on a Friday night.” Jessie huffed.

Darcia quickly dragged her phone out of her apron pocket. “OK, I'll text Tony, tell him we're coming.”

Like he didn't know already.

Friday night, and we'd all go to the Shack. It wasn't something you needed to arrange any more. Frankly, if one of us didn't turn up, that would be a real shock.

“JESSIE! TABLE 5!” Boring Brian called again from out front.

“No rest for the wicked,” Jessie said, partly to Darcia, partly just to herself, before throwing the cloth back into the sink and heading back out into the diner.

…

It wasn't until 8 PM that Jessie and Darcia both ended their shifts and went straight out for the night. Even with the sun beginning to set the heat was still bearing down on them as they sauntered down the open streets towards the Shack.

“So Tony said Liam's gonna be there babe. Are you gonna put out with that guy yet or what?” Darcia was joking, of course, but she always seemed to wonder why Jessie remained so tight lipped with him, in more ways than one.

“I don't know. Maybe, maybe not.”

“But he's such a sweet guy Jess. You're not gonna find much better round here you know. You don't wanna leave it and see him snatched up by some other girl. He's got options, I know that for a fact.”

“Yeah, well they're welcome to him Darc. He's cute, he's sweet, bla bla. He just doesn't do it for me, and I refuse to settle.”

“And what's that supposed to mean?” asked Darcia quickly, her tone turning more serious.

Jessie turned to her. “Huh, nothing, just that I don't want to start dating a guy just because he's the best of a bad bunch.”

“Like I did, you mean? With Tony? Don't deny it Jess, I know you don't think we should be together.”

Jessie couldn't argue with that. Darcia had done exactly what she refused to do....or maybe her standards were just different. She couldn't quite tell.

“Yeah, well I guess if you're gonna stay in this town then you've gotta do what's best for you. I don't intend on sticking around.”

Darcia grabbed Jessie's arm and stopped her in her tracks. “What do you mean? You're leaving again?” she asked, a frown growing on her face.

Jessie shrugged her shoulders. “Well, not right now, no. But some day, some day soon, yeah. I don't wanna stay in Burgess all my life, do you?”

“Well, I guess not,” said Darcia, completely unconvincingly. “Anyway, it's not so bad here. It's only this incessant fucking heat that's got you down.”

Jessie turned and they carried on walking.
That's not the half of it.

It didn't take them long to reach the Shack. It didn't take them long to get anywhere in this town.

The place was rustic and built only from wood, hence the name. It was said to be one of the oldest buildings in town, used once as an old wooden barn for a farmer who first settled in the area a hundred or so years ago.

It still kept that character, that atmosphere. There were old farming tools hanging on the inside walls, and barrels were used for tables. The chairs were all rickety and old, some of them rocking chairs kept in the corner by a large, open fire which hadn't been used for many months.

Right in the middle was a bar that stood as a square in the center of the building, with its four counters running parallel to the outer walls. There was also a small stage in one corner, used for local music acts and karaoke nights.

Friday night, as it turned out, was karaoke night, and the most popular of the week among the town's younger generation.

When Darcia and Jessie walked in, they were greeted with a round of recognition from familiar faces all around. The bar staff, the two bouncers manning the doors, the old locals who were always sitting at the bar, grumbling together and telling old stories and urban legends to anyone who'd listen.

The girls knew pretty much everyone in there, young and old. It was that sort of place, not exclusive or catering to any particular type or race or gender. The old men at the bar would tell their tales to the youngsters, who'd go ahead and entertain everyone by getting drunk and singing modern pop music that seemed so out of place in a bar like this.

Tony was sat around a table with Liam and some of the other guys who worked for the largest company in town – Dalton's Contractors. They were builders, working on sites in and around town and lived a cyclical life: work all week, drink all weekend. They all did it, all the builders. Frankly, there was little other way of life in Burgess for working men.

Jessie and Darcia moved over and sat with them, getting their usual round of friendly abuse as they did. Darcia sat on Tony's lap, taking one of his shots and sinking it herself. Liam quickly grabbed Jessie an extra stool, and sat her down next to him, his eyes regularly lingering on her a few seconds longer than normal.

“The boy's possessed,” shouted one of the slightly older men as he noticed Liam's gaze. “Although who can blame him,” he said, winking at Jessie. His name was Stan, a gnarled old war vet who'd hung up his uniform many years ago and retired into the relative comfort of stone masonry.

“What, no, I...”

“Ah, I'm just pulling your leg boy,” cut in Stan before Liam could even defend himself. Frankly everyone knew he only had eyes for Jessie.

Liam looked sheepishly over at Jessie before getting up and walking to the bar. “Anyone want another drink?” he asked, perhaps foolishly.

“Me.”

“Yep.”

“Right here.”

“And me.”

The chorus of demands didn't stop until the entire table had put their hands up.

By the time Liam had returned, the conversation around the table had changed, a lighthearted debate about college football suddenly turned more sinister.

“So did you hear about the body out near Lancer's Point?” Tony said, looking round the table.”

“Big deal, just a dead girl,” said Stan, already half way through the beer Liam had dropped in front of him. “When you've seen as many dead people as I have, hearing about one body on the news isn't particularly interesting.”

“Well I wanna know,” said Darcia quickly, wrapping her arms around Tony's neck.

Tony lowered his voice, so that only the closest to him could hear amid the loud bustle of the bar.

“They say the girl was murdered and ditched in the river out on the plains. I spoke to one of the old locals at the bar. He says this always happens when the weather turns like this, when it stays hot for too long. It makes your mind go funny, makes people do things they wouldn't normally do....”

“Rubbish,” said Jessie, cutting in. “You know that about half of people who get killed know the murderer, and about 1 in 4 girls who get murdered are killed by their boyfriend or husband. So that's where the police will start.”

Tony laughed. “All right, Detective Trent, I was only having a bit of fun. Where'd you get all those statistics anyway?”