My name is Salmon, like the fish. My first name is Suzanne of Susie for short. I was murdered on December 6, 1973, and my body wouldn't be found for years. My killer, a man from my neighborhood, dumped it in a sinkhole on the Connor family farm, so he can cover his tracks. That very sinkhole was later filled up. In 1990, many years after my murder, the Connor family decide to dig up the sinkhole to find anything of value. After days of digging, they find the safe containing my remains. My remains were taken to be tested by the police, only Ruth knew it was me. The police began to open up the investigation of my murder, this caught the attention of a government agent from Virginia.
The man was named Gideon, like the Ancient Jewish war hero who defeated the Midinanites. His first name was Jason. Mister Gideon was a behavioral profiler, his job is to study the behavior of suspects linked to a crime like murder. Gideon asked the Philadelphia Police Department if he could come to help investigate the case. After he was granted permission, he took a train to Philadelphia and he went to speak with my grown-up little sister, Lindsey.
"I'm so sorry for your loss Mrs. Heckler," Mister Gideon said to my sister.
"We only had her elbow," a tear-stricken Lindsey replied, "but now we finally found her."
"Was there anyone in the neighborhood who was after Susie?"
"Didn't the police tell you, it was George Harvey." Lindsey paused to regain her train of thought. Her young daughter Abigail, my niece, was having a play-date with a friend. Lindsey wasn't sure what to tell her about her dead aunt, or this George Harvey. "George Harvey killed my sister."
Gideon then left my sister in order to search for Mister Harvey. He went to speak with the police and he discovered the amount of evidence pointing Mr. Harvey to my murder. He then searched records for Mister Harvey but he found none until he came across a death certificate from New Hampshire. It mentioned a "John Doe" who fell to his death off a cliff. The description of "John Doe" matched Mister Harvey.
It began to haunt Mister Gideon that he was never able to catch my murderer. Mister Gideon held compassion for the victims of murder cases. After each case, he got a picture of each victim and he placed them in his notebook, as a small memorial for the victims of serial killers. That was something I liked about him, he cared about those whose lives were taken by people like Mister Harvey.
Over the years, Mister Gideon continued to work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation, tracking down serial killers before they could kill again. The number of people he couldn't save haunted him and he felt guilty. His friend, Sarah, was murdered by a serial killer in 2007, and he officially left the FBI and began to live off the grid. He lived a peaceful yet painful retirement until his life was taken by a serial killer in 2015. He began to ascend into heaven, and I finally got to meet the man who investigated so many murders. I searched for him thought-out Heaven and I finally found him, sitting under a tree.
"How old are you?" Mister Gideon asked me.
"If I was still alive," I said, "I would be fifty-eight years old, but I am stuck in the form of a fourteen year old." Gideon's eyes expanded wide open, I could see the disbelief inside him.
"You look like you're fourteen," he said, "And what do you mean 'if you were still alive'?"
"This is Heaven, the place were we all go when we pass away." He continued to not believe me until he saw his old friend Sarah. The two of them ran towards each other and they embraced. Mister Gideon was finally at peace. I wish you all a long and happy life.
