Page 37 of Aperture

“I need someone to walk me through the details,” I say, cutting right to the chase.

A young deputy with the last name Dawson answers.

“Two older women were going for a walk at 0700 this morning. They saw something floating by those reeds over there.” He turns and points to an area that is thick with tall grass and reeds. “They decided to check it out, saw that it was a body, and called 9-1-1.”

“Bet they won’t be walking around here anytime soon,” I quip.

“Actually,” Dawson responds. “They don’t seem bothered at all. Apparently, they both listen to a lot of crime podcasts and see themselves as some real crime solvers. The one in green said she could “sense” there was something off here today.” He rolls his eyes.

“Well, don’t let Shawn Spencer and Burton Guster leave without a written statement,” I tell him, alluding to the main characters in one of my favorite shows. “I might need to question them later.”

Dawson says something else, but I am already moving toward the body. Female, young, blonde hair. This could definitely be the missing girl. She is bloated from decomposition so I cannot make out her features. She is naked, and there is some rope around her neck. There has also been some animal predation, so I will need dental records to identify her.

“Think this could be the Sierra Falls Strangler?” Dawson asks. When I don’t answer right away, he continues. “Maybe a jealous boyfriend?”

“I suggest we save all speculation until we have an ID and we can work the case,” I say sternly over my shoulder as I head back to my car. There is not much I can do here until we get the body to the morgue. I”ll let the crime scene guys work the area and wait for the reports.

I start the car and start driving back to the office, planning to grab a bite to eat. I’m sure Dawson is telling everyone what an asshole I am right now, but I don’t give a fuck. I care about this victim and why she died. I have never really cared about being liked, truth be known.

Sometimes my personality keeps me from getting closer to people. People like Millie. That is still a sore subject. The way she looked at me almost tore my fucking heart out.

I let my mind wander as I continue the drive. I think about meeting Theo in college and becoming friends. His cheery and laid-back persona was so opposite of my own serious and calculated nature. Maybe those complementary traits are the reason we got along so well. We both saw ourselves as the smartest guy in the room, and we had some epic debates. We also pushed each other physically in the gym, always competing.

We spent our weekends unwinding and hooking up with women. A lot of women. Theo was a great wingman. People gravitate toward that good-looking motherfucker. Then he met Sophia and over the months we grew apart. He changed, or maybe I did, and by the last time we both saw Sophia, we were virtually strangers. I could not believe it when he called me and asked me to come over to his place. I had not spoken to him in months; although, I had spoken to Sophia often, both in class, and when we would meet occasionally just to chat.

When I got to his place and walked in, I was not expecting Sophia to be there. I was expecting what happened next even less. I physically shudder at the memory and the events that quickly followed.

No one ever saw Sophia again after that. Sick to my stomach, I decide to forego grabbing lunch and head straight back to the office, knowing there is a lot of work left to do.

Chapter 23

Theo and I have been texting and speaking regularly since the night he brought dinner over. He has been amazing about not rushing this relationship. He simply asks what I’m up to and lets me know he’s thinking about me, so I’m excited when I get his text this morning, and he suggests a date.

Theo: Do you like mini golf?

Millie: Did Tiger Woods wear red on Sundays?

Theo: How are you so perfect?

Millie: Sold my soul to a crossroads demon.

Theo: You just keep proving my point.

Millie: I know.

Theo: Pick you up at 11:00?

Millie: See you soon.

“How the hell does this thing work?” Theo asks as he walks around the big bunny structure, trying to figure out where the ball goes.

I lean on my club, laughing. He’s been getting more frustrated as the game has gone on. We are on hole 13, and I am dominating this man.

“You hit the ball into the basket next to the bunny, and it either shoots out his butt toward the hole, or it diverts to the back green.”

“What the fuck kind of place is this?” he asks. “This bunny shits a hole in one? Remind me not to bring Ellie and Emmett here.”

With that, he whacks the ball, and it hits the bunny in the face and bounces back toward us.