All short chapters, I know, but I got most of my stories updated. Well, three actually. Not bad for three hours of writing.
Cold as Ice: Cold Evidence
They made it down to Portland in roughly 45 minutes, only to spend another half hour circling the town before finding the crime lab. Grumbling Randolph pulled up to the building, turning the car off with a sigh. "You leave for a couple of years and they move everything on you," he muttered, climbing out of the vehicle.
Sara and Greg got out on the other side, Greg had let Sara sit in front while he took the back, and they had agreed to switch on the way back. The lab here wasn't as big as back in Vegas, but it was quite bigger than the one back up on the mountain.
Greg picked up the tail end as the three walked single file inside, moving alongside everyone else. He and Sara waited near the front desk, the pair taking off their jackets. It was considerable warmer in Portland; not hot, but just warmer.
They didn't have to wait long, as the two were led into a separate enclosed room. Greg sat down next to Sara, folding his coat over the chair next to him. Sara glanced at him with a questioning look, and Greg only shrugged in response as they were joined by two other men. One they recognized as the second man who had been working the case, the other was Tom. He gave them a slight nod before sitting down.
"Thanks for coming out here, we just need to clear up a few things," Tom started out flipping through the files he had put on his desk. He pulled out a photo, placing it down for the two of them to see. It was an autopsy photo.
"You know this man?" Tom asked, indicating the picture.
Greg studied it a moment longer than Sara, before shaking his head as well. "No," he stated simply, "I don't think so."
His tone was almost withdrawn, watching the older man pick the picture up again. It was as if he expected Greg to know him.
"That's strange," the man next to Tom spoke up, "You see, we've been able to connect all these murders so far, and besides their manner of death, we have been able to make one leading connection. The other three make some sense, taking in account you were in close distance with the bodies, but this man here, Richard Stevens, you were not."
Greg shrugged dully, "I don't know a Richard Stevens," he confessed lightly. Next to him Sara agreed. Neither of them recognized the name or the man in the picture.
"You like to tell us how your DNA got on him then?"
Greg sat up some, shock lining his features. Sara had nearly the same reaction. "What?" Greg finally managed to ask.
Tom held up his hand, calming everyone down. "Your DNA is already listed in the databank; it went in there when you were hired for your jobs. We pulled several hairs off all the bodies that come up as match to the both of you. If you can explain this, then do so now."
Sara shook her head, trying to find something to say. Greg leaned forward, "Maybe we met him, shook hands with him or something. There are over three hundred people there; it is possible for us to have met him I guess. But we haven't done anything if that's what you're trying to get at."
Tom shook his head, standing, "We're not pointing any fingers, not yet. So you have nothing else to say?"
Greg shook his head, "If we think of anything, we'll help. I mean, do you actually think we could do something like that?"
"Okay, you're free to go for now," Tom waved him off, nodding for the other man to follow him.
Sara turned back to Greg, her expression matching his, one of bewilderment. "What exactly is going on?" she wondered. Greg could only shrug, his gaze catching Randolph's, who was waiting for them out in the hallway.
The got up, moving at a slower rate than before, meeting Randolph just outside the door. They needn't say anything, Randolph had heard everything, and all he could do was offer up a small word of comfort. He agreed with Greg, they had probably met him before, a secondary transfer; the hairs were probably caught on his clothing.
Still Greg and Sara were sickened, worried, angry even. It was as if they were being toyed with, and there was nothing they could do about it. Randolph paused before getting in the car, his eyes drifting around the area. He turned back to the two, already in the car he had to duck his head inside.
"You two desperate to get back to camp?" he asked.
Greg shrugged mildly, leaning against the window. Sara glanced up at him, "Why?"
"I know the area pretty well, we could do some sight seeing. The ocean's not too far away."
Sara nodded slowly after a moment. Randolph was offering them a way out. Going back to camp would only end with them staying in their cabin all day, unable to sleep or eat, or doing anything else more. "Sure, sounds like fun."
Greg agreed mutely, knowing that it probably was the smartest thing to do, but not really feeling up to it as Randolph climbed inside, starting the car up.
Greg grimaced as he stepped outside, the wind nearly pushing him back. It was chiller out here than it was in town, but still not cold enough to pull his jacket back on. Sara came up behind him, squinting into the wind as well.
Greg followed her gaze, grinning lightly. "It's been a few years since I've seen the ocean," Greg told her, his voice louder than normal so that she could hear him. Sara nodded in agreement, before following Randolph's retreating form.
Greg had only taken a few steps before pausing, reading the sign they were passing. Quickly he ran to catch up with the others, descending down the sandy trail. "You do know this is a private beach, right?" Greg asked, taking his steps carefully.
Randolph nodded, still walking, making his way around the bend. "Yeah, my grandfather owned it, he ran the lighthouse over here," Randolph indicated with a turn of his head. Greg followed them around the corner, letting out a small sigh of relief as the wind died down drastically once behind the large rock formation.
Randolph pointed down the beach some ways to where the lighthouse stood, the paint worn down by the wind and spray of the sea. "I grew up in Oregon," Randolph explained quietly, starting to make his way towards it once again. "During the summer I'd come and stay with him, help him run it, until he was shut down. Ships don't cross through here anymore; aside from the factor they use all those fancy electrical lighthouses now. Spent half my childhood here."
Greg and Sara nodded as they came up along side the tall tower, both of them tracing the long column with their eyes as Randolph pulled his keys out, looking through several before choosing an older looking key. The locks clunked open, the door groaning as it swung open, making it quite obvious it hadn't been opened in some time.
Randolph led the way, Sara following shortly behind and Greg bringing up the rear. It was an odd smell, a mixture of an older essence and one of salt, which in reality wasn't all that surprising. The spiral stair case led them up slowly, higher and higher, and Greg couldn't help but stop to take a peek over the side to see how high they were.
Heights had never really bothered Greg; as long as you were secure, he had little problem. His stop had put him behind the others, and he had to hurry along in order to catch up. They reached the top in not too much longer.
The view up here was amazing, you could see for quite a distance. Ahead of them the waves crashed against the rocks, the waves rolling into each other. Greg shook his head lightly; he had forgotten how amazing the ocean could be sometimes. They stayed up there for sometime; watching the ocean first before heading back down, after Randolph showed them how everything worked.
Greg stayed behind, talking with Randolph as he locked the old lighthouse back up, as Sara walked down closer to the water, slipping off her shoes and socks and rolling up her pant legs, strolling along the surf.
Greg watched her for a while, sitting down in the sand, laughing softly as watched her outrun a few of the bigger waves. It was amazing sometimes, the things that kept people occupied for so long. He was tempted to join her, but his mind was still occupied by the findings earlier today. After all, evidence didn't lie, but what if you knew the evidence was wrong? He sighed, rubbing his forehead before turning his attention back to the Ocean.
Sara had been out there for quite a while, before coming back up, kicking the sand lightly at him, laughing as she sat down next to him. Ahead the sun was sinking lower and lower into the sky, as day ventured into the afternoon hours.
Greg shook his head, wiping the sand off his sweater, laughing at her. "You're wet," he teased lightly.
Sara smiled sheepishly, looking down at her pants. "I fell," she said simply, leaning against Greg.
He laughed again, wrapping an arm around her, "I noticed. You are definitely taking a shower tonight. There is no way you are dragging all that sand into bed with us."
"Why not?" she joked softly.
Greg rolled his eyes, "Look at the one who didn't want to sleep next to someone with jeans on."
They turned their attention back as Randolph came up next to him, shaking his head lightly. "We need to get going, I don't want to drive those roads in the dark," he glanced at the setting sun. "We'll be lucky if it's still light out by the time we get back."
Greg nodded, turning back to watch the water a moment longer before climbing to his feet, pulling Sara up after him shortly after. He was glad they had come, and slightly upset they hadn't spent more time here.
TBC