Thank you for your patience. My beta reader has been ill and I do not like to send my work out without being checked. Glad you are better, D. Also thank you, A. for volunteering to step in. It is nice to know I have friends who are ready to help me.

Frozen Angels

Chapter Two

Jim Dunbar was beginning to feel like he was listening to a bad radio play. His brother, Rick, was in the middle of a running phone conversation with the officers already on scene, but with his damn blue tooth connection Jim only heard half the conversation.

"Yes, you have to wear the latex gloves… leather gloves leaves their own distinctive mark."

"I don't give a damn how cold it is; if you touch anything your hand better be covered in latex."

"Weren't there boot prints in the snow around the shed, other than those teens looking for a shagging shack? You better have taken pictures of every damn set of prints or the next boot print you find is gonna be my boot up your ass."

"Keep the civilians separate! I'll do the primary interrogation them when I get there. You did get a search warrant, didn't you? Him? Good, Judge Freaky Framingham will sign a warrant for anything! He's so senile all you would have to say is moon shine and he'd sign his mother away."

"Keep Ken Myers away from there. I don't care if he owns the place just give him that damn search warrant and get him the hell away from there."

Jim felt the car pull off the smooth asphalt road on to plowed fields of the Myers farm. This was rough, rougher than the cobblestones that still covered some New York streets. The frozen furrows were high and hard, jarring his teeth right down to the roots.

"Christ, Ricky, what are you trying to do… prove you need four wheel drive!"

"Jimmy, it's just a corn field, for Christ's sake. I can't help where the crime scene is. You keep this up and I'll turn around and take you back to Uncle Ed's."

Jim made an exaggerated sigh, "I didn't say are we there yet. Oh, by the way, are we there yet?"

Rick snorted, "we're there, just gotta park this thing." Rick glanced at his brother and wondered what to do next. "Jim, can I get you to stay back by the truck until I see what's up?"

Jim bit his lower lip and knew what was going on in his little brother's head. Rick had jumped without thinking when he had invited Jim to the scene. Now he didn't have any idea what to do with his blind brother at a crime scene. "Ricky, I have to take Hank for a walk when we get there so I'll stay out of your way. I gotta thank you for getting me off the farm. If Aunt Shirley tried to feed me one more home made treat I can't find in Manhattan I was gonna start screaming."

Rick Dunbar parked by the three squad cars that were already there and watched as Jim got his dog out of the SUV. One of the officers approached the SUV and stopped his big brother. After a brief conversation Jim turned away from the shed and walked confidently as the guide dog manoeuvred him safely round the rusty car parts. It was time to worry about the chop shop and let Jimmy take care of himself… after he commanded one of the troopers to keep an eye on Jim.

Jim and Hank stepped carefully through the debris that surrounded the shed. There shouldn't have been this much stuff out here. The sound of the wind tossing the bare branches of the trees that surrounded the shed told Jim this place was usually hidden by leaves. Even with the leaf cover gone locals would not have noticed just another old building in a bush lot unless there was something to attract unwanted attention, something like abandoned car parts.

The crunch of snow behind him let Jim know he was being followed. It didn't take much of a guess to know a trooper was watching him. "Officer, are we behind the building here? And how far from the road are we?"

"Well, there are no windows or doors on this side of the shed so it pretty much is the back. It's about a quarter of a mile or so from the road," the surprised man answered without missing a beat.

"Who found the place; did someone notice the car parts from the road?"

"No, sir, the Myers kids on snow mobiles came up here looking for a place to party. Uh, Mr. Dunbar, I don't think I should be talking about an active investigation to a civilian."

"Actually, I'm a homicide detective in New York." Jim heard the intake of breath that told him the man didn't believe him. "Just ask your boss, Sergeant Dunbar, Ricky will vouch for me."

"I believe you, sir, but this is out of your jurisdiction." The man shifted from foot to foot, revealing he didn't believe Jim at all but he would humour him. "I really gotta get back to work."

"You're right; I'm on vacation; but once a cop always a cop. Go back to work, I'll find my way back to the truck and I promise not to get you in trouble with Ricky." Jim smirked when he heard the officer try to suppress a laugh, obviously calling his brother Ricky was news to the locals. "Go ahead, get out; I'll be okay."

Jim waited for the state trooper to walk away before he pulled his cane from the parka's pocket and extended it fully. "Hank, no one can see us now so let's look around. Forward." From then on each time Hank stopped or tried to lead him around something Jim searched with the tip of his white cane and sometimes reached down to feel what was before him. The further the pair wandered into the trees the less the place seemed like an auto junk yard. The thing was, it shouldn't have seemed like a junk yard at all. Any successful chop shop got rid of its merchandise quickly. This place felt as if its occupants had disappeared in the middle of their job.

Hank started to whine and pull Jim back toward the shed.

"Hey boy, what's the matter?" Jim squatted down and crooned to calm Hank down. This was not how his guide behaved. "What do you see? What's got you so worried?"

"Stay, Hank," Jim commanded as he stood up, dropped Hank's harness and leash and stepped forward using his white cane. The first thing he noticed was the ground beneath his feet dipped slightly downward. Tapping ahead with the cane Jim found a narrow trough about three feet wide in front of him. He sidled left, the trough continued on for several feet and Jim could only guess it how far it stretched to the right. Squatting once more Jim patted the earth in front of him. It had very little snow in the dip; most of it blew past to debris that should not be there. Jim didn't have a pair of latex gloves with him, but he did have some plastic grocery bags Uncle Ed gave him to clean up after Hank. He slipped one over his hand he reached out in front of himself. A stick jutted up slightly from the ground, Jim ran his hand up the smooth surface to the rounded end. It wasn't a stick; it wasn't a car part or an axe handle or anything that might find its way to a bush lot. It felt like a bone, a human femur if Jim was correct. Ricky was going to be really annoyed with him now.

"Hey, you over there, what have you got hold of?" the irate voice of Ken Myers startled Jim. "That isn't mine, what ever it is. Those damn cops got no right to be here. You got no right to be here. Get off my farm!"

Someone get the civilians away from this crime scene, Jim wanted to yell at the nosy man. Just what Jim needed now that a body had been found was civilians on his crime scene. Yet this wasn't his crime scene. Jim Dunbar was a civilian here. Oh god, Christy was going to be way past annoyed. They were here to have a nice relaxing Christmas with the family and he just couldn't stop being a cop. Ho ho ho

tbc