AUTHORS NOTE: Another short scene because once again, it's a murder scene. Yeah. I'm killing a lot of people in this story.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Taggart or Broken Angels by Richard Montanari and I'm still undecided if this is his book or not (I've read one too many). If it isn't, I'll correct that on a later date XD
***
The tears fell down the girl's cheeks as she ran down the marsh heading towards the old crickety bridge. Another argument too many with her stepfather had lead her here. She came here all the time, it was beautiful and she knew better than to think that he wouldn't come looking for her here but she still needed them few moments alone to gather her thoughts.
The argument was so expected to happen but the glowing handprint on her right cheek indicated to how it was going down. She'd believed that her stepfather would understand because he had treated her like a father but he'd just called her names and then went off on one. Mother hadn't even managed to have a say. She'd looked at her with that obvious look of apology but had then just turned away when he'd growled at her to get out of his face before she got more than a slap. She'd fled and that was how she'd ending up here.
Sitting down against the wall, her hand ran through her hair as she watched the full moon flutter in the slow current of the river. Her hand trembled as she lightly rested it against her abdomen. How could her parents turf her out when she'd said that the father had told her it was over? That had angered her father more. She'd trusted a man enough to give herself willingly to him but then had suffered because he'd got her pregnant and then had just walked away as if she had never mattered to him.
A rustling sound happened beside her and she looked around her. Her heartbeat raced as she closed her eyes, a trick that her father had taught her when he was still alive. He had been blind and she'd always wondered why he'd heard her coming. "You understand that my other senses waken because of my blindness?" He'd explained poking her nose gently before holding her close to him. She missed him since his death but she did adore her new stepfather, when he was nice to her.
She'd started to settle again when a pair of hands wrapped around her throat, warm breath tickling her cheek. "Goodnight." The voice drawled before the grip got tighter.
***
The woman whistled for her dog, her hand holding the empty leash as she watched him approach the old bridge and get too near to the edge. She had waded into the water one too many times for that dog and she wasn't about to do it again. "Raffles!" She shouted once more before groaning and following him down. She stopped and started to scream.
The young girl was dressed in olden day robes, her neck bruised and her eyes open wide, her lips slightly parted as if she had been screaming when it happened. She stepped away, her hands trembling as she pulled out her mobile to phone the police.
***
"Is this our killer, Jemma?" Burke asked as he climbed through the marsh water, his nose wrinkling as he felt his feet squelch inside the leather. Robbie also wore the same expression but also worried about his expensive, labelled pants.
"I'm afraid so, Burke." She handed him a plastic envelope only containing the front cover of a book and Burke offered it out to the team to see if anyone had read it but each one of them shook their heads.
"Find out if that's on the book clubs reading criteria." He said before moving towards Gemma and looking at the girl. "What can you tell me?"
"She's been strangled and badly mutilated."
"Can you tell me how long?"
"I'm afraid I can't, Matt. She's been in ice cold water most of the night." She explained before nodding. "I'll take her back to autopsy and let you know what I find."
"Thanks Gemma." Burke said turning to the team and sighing. "Right, we need and ID and to know what she has to do with our previous victims."
"Yes boss."
***
AUTHORS NOTE: I did warn it was short. Sorry.
