Hi everyone. *waves*
This story is different in that it's canon-ish. I've tried very, very hard to keep Damon especially- in character. I hope you like it.
"Goodnight, Tripp," Amber Bradley calls over her shoulder then clocks out from her job as a cocktail waitress at the Brews Brothers Saloon. An ominous full moon hangs in the night sky which makes goosebumps erupt on her skin. As she walks past a row of hedges, her heart starts slamming in her chest. Somewhere in the foliage comes a heavy guttural breathing. Picking up her pace, she reaches the end of the block at the same time two silhouetted figures come through the clearing, grunting and giggling stupidly.
Feeling edgy and a little uncomfortable, Amber picks up her pace; who knows what two stoners will do at this hour of the night?
"Dude, don't make me laugh like that, glue almost came out of my nose," one of them cackles and adds, "Whoa-look at that moon!"
The other guy looks up, but in the wrong direction. The taller one nudges him which causes the short man to do a double take. They stare hypnotically, not even noticing Amber when she skirts around them to reach the bus stop.
After waiting a half an hour for her bus, she's just mad enough to walk the eight blocks to her small frame house off the corner of 9th and Bridger...
Her boots click on the sidewalk as she reaches the corner to turn towards her house, she pauses to look around, unable to shake the feeling that someone's following her. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Amber continues on her way. Not paying attention to the sidewalk, her boot catches on a broken piece of concrete and she tumbles to the ground.
"Son of a bitch," she curses, picks up her bag and brushes off her knees. Suddenly, looming above her is a dark figure. A scream leaves her mouth, one so shrill it bypasses the ears to speak right to the heart. Amber skitters backwards, jumps to her feet, running as fast as she can around the corner and stumbling on the downward sloping street, its angle benefitting her momentum to the point she thinks she might actually have a chance to get away. But...
And always close behind, is a man in black, quickly closing the distance between them.
A hand fists her hair, yanking her backwards and into an alley. "Please don't," Amber manages a strangled scream right before there's a sharp pain in her neck. She doesn't know where it came from, the man has no obvious weapons. Shock and disbelief add fuel her panic. Blood gushes between her fingers with each beat of her thundering heart, and floods the space under her palm. He rips it away and drops his mouth to the wound...
With the very essence of her life draining away, she feels nothing at all. Time itself becomes irrelevant; seconds could be hours, or hours mere seconds. In this suspended moment as death approaches, she's the eye of her own storm...
"I'm going to be in the paper tomorrow," she murmurs through bloodless lips just before the last pound of her heart.
"Good morning," Elena calls out as she passes down the center aisle to reach her cubicle.
"Gilbert, you're on the Bradley story," Ric approaches her with a police report.
"A two-day-old, third rate murder?" Elena asks incredulously.
"You're on it!" Ric repeats.
"What about one of them?" Elena retorts, sweeping her arm. "I'm supposed to be on vacation!"
"I will make sure you get to take a vacation but for right now, they have other assignments and, Elena, it's for your podcast. I have a feeling about this one..."
Elena's grateful to Ric for helping her with the podcast and for her co-workers who help her out with research from time to time. She'd started working for the paper a little over five years ago. Being an avid listener herself, she immediately urged Ric to let her start a podcast, bringing the paper into the twenty-first century. He'd been reluctant at first but had eventually relented. She'd never expected it to be such a huge success, but people are weirdly into true crime stories and investigations. Sometimes her listeners email with helpful tips that she forwards to the police. One such tip led to a capture, something she takes great pride in.
"I listened in last week when you covered the Manson murders. It was illuminating, although I still don't know where your interest in true crime came from?"
"That's a story for another day and now that you've knocked the wind out of my sails," she replies in exasperation, "I guess I'll head over to City Hall." Grabbing her bag, she marches out of the office, making sure to slam the door closed.
Arriving at the police station, Elena ducks into the stairwell to go straight to the morgue. Peaking around the corner, she heads to the coroner's office where she finds Dr. Rebekah Mikaelson staring at some crime scene photos.
"Hello Elena," she says without looking up.
"How'd you know it was me?" Elena sets her bag down and tries peering over the blonde's shoulder.
"These are confidential," Rebekah turns them over. "I thought we were rid of you for a few weeks."
"Yeah, so did I..." Elena acknowledges.
"What is it you want to know?" Rebekah asks, her eyes narrowing in on the reporter.
"Well, about this uh...Amber Bradley thing...why does it say 'Officially Undetermined' under Cause of Death?"
"That's confidential."
Elena ignores the remark. "Was there anything unusual about the autopsy?"
"Other than the fact that she lost a lot of blood? No, there was nothing out of the ordinary."
Looking at the computer screen, Elena quickly skims over the report. "No evidence of dependent lividity...does that mean what I think it means?"
"And what do you think it means?" Rebekah asks, leaning back in her chair.
"No lividity...doesn't that suggest no blood?" Elena asks, looking at Rebekah shrewdly.
"I was about to call my brother when you so rudely interrupted."
"Is Elijah the detective assigned to the case?"
"Yes, now why don't you get out of here so I can do my job?" Rebekah gets up to walk Elena out. "Do you want to go out for drinks Friday night?"
"Sounds good. Call me with the time and place," Elena adds on her way back up the stairs to the main floor of the police station where she hopes to talk to Elijah.
Having gotten nowhere with Detective Mikaelson, Elena goes to Brews Brothers to see what she can find out about Amber. After talking to the bartender, she approaches Isobel Fleming, one of her co-workers.
"Poor Amber. I just feel terrible about it," Isobel sniffs, and reaches for a napkin to blow her nose.
"Well, if you don't want to talk about her, you don't have to," Elena offers her an out.
"No. I want to help if I can."
"Did she have a boyfriend?"
"Not that I'm aware of. She dated once in a while. Honestly, I don't think she liked men all that much after some guy- um...Stefan I think was his name- scared her half to death when she was in high school. She told me about it once."
"Yeah?" Elena writes down the name.
"Yes, she even took self-defense lessons."
"So, she knew Karate or jujutsu?"
"Yeah. Brown belt," Isobel specifies and reaches for another napkin.
"I don't suppose she ever gave you a last name for that guy?"
"All I know is that it was at some formal affair in her hometown."
"Which is?" Elena fishes...If she can find out Amber's home town, it wouldn't be that difficult to find an old yearbook online and look up this Stefan person- unless he was just an out of town guest?
"I don't know, Miss Gilbert. I'm sorry."
"Thanks for talking to me, Isobel. If you think of anything, my number is on this," Elena adds, and hands the distraught woman her business card.
"I hope you find who did this," Isobel slides out of the booth and walks with her to the entrance.
When Elena was a kid, never did she dream her job would be this until she watched a rerun of "The Deliberate Stranger" on TV, a story about Ted Bundy, starring a young Mark Harmon. It really spurred her interest in the genre'. She was fascinated with it and started reading true crime novels, always finishing in shock at the depravity of some people and wanting to learn what goes on inside a killer's head. In college, she took some psychology and criminal justice courses along with journalism. When she arrived in Las Vegas, she pitched the podcast idea to Ric and really found her element. And perhaps one day, she'll write a book of her own?
"I hope so, too," Elena says soberly then walks outside into the stifling heat of a Las Vegas afternoon.
Having heard the location over her police scanner, Elena parks her car alongside the curb about a block away and walks to the location. She looks up; Elijah is already coming towards her. Before she started her podcast, she covered the crime beat for the paper which is how she got to know the Mikaelson's. They've become family to her. She and Rebekah went to the Bahamas together a year ago. And Elijah, he's handsome, smart and a dedicated public servant. They dated for a few weeks when she first moved to Vegas. Although it was fun, they both knew it would never lead to anything more permanent. Their relationship has evolved and now he's like a big brother, and a good source of information.
"What took you so long, Elena?" Elijah rakes his eyes over her.
"What do you have here?" Elena asks as she edges closer to the body, "and to answer your question, my tire was low. I had to pull over to pump some air into it."
"We got an anonymous call. Sergeant Cruz, who was patrolling nearby, arrived within minutes."
"Do you have an ID on your vic?"
"Valerie Tulle...cocktail waitress at the Four Queens Casino."
"Look at her throat! Shouldn't there be some blood around?" Elena looks up at Elijah in confusion.
"She may have been dumped here."
"Amber Bradley lost a lot of blood, too." Elena observes, scanning the area when she briefly locks eyes with a dark-haired man across the street. Vultures are circling already... Such a hot guy who probably has a morbid fascination with death...like everyone else gathered, hoping for a glimpse of the dead woman's body.
"You read that in the newspapers, did you?" Elijah mentions, snapping her out of her reverie with a hint of sarcasm.
Elena glances across the street again but the man is gone. "Ha ha! No, I..." her voice trails off when one of the criminalists interrupts.
"This girl lost nearly all of her blood, Detective Mikaelson...but she didn't lose it here."
"Anything else?"
We found a purse, and a red rose. There's signs of a struggle up here...but nothing in between...only our footprints."
"What'd he do? Throw her?" Elena interjects, her eyes darting between the two men.
"Why would you say that?" the younger man asks.
"What else would explain the lack of evidence, footprints, drag marks, anything between here and there?" Elena sweeps her arm over the area.
"Time for you to go, Elena," Elijah wraps his hand around her upper arm and pulls her away from the crime scene.
"Is this killing related to the Bradley murder? Both women had massive blood loss. And what about the rose?"
"I'm not going to comment on that."
"Fine, I'll just talk to Rebekah." Elena retorts, raising her chin in defiance. Before Elijah can say another word, she gets in her car and pulls away from the curb, leaving him shrouded in a large plume of exhaust.'
This is a full length story. Please follow, favorite, review- excited to hear your thoughts.
Huge thanks to jmfangs and to Eva for their help with this story. Eva's my hero, she's had a lot of challenges since her 2019 health crisis. She's literally lucky to be alive.
The idea for Elena having a podcast came from You-tuber Bailey Sarian. She tells true crime stories while doing her makeup. Check her out.
I know I promised "South of Santa Fe". It's been written already for close to 3 years, just never got around to posting it. I need to reread it and make any appropriate changes.
Have a lovely day and we'll see you next time.