Boston's Man-Eater

XVIII

One should not be so surprised when their wishes are turned into reality.

As soon as I got to the street where Tony and I had directed a stake out, all I saw were crowds of people weaving in and out.

And even though the blaring sirens drowned out all foreign sounds, I could still hear the pounding of my heart.

Passing by the news anchors standing at their vans, a thick fog of disbelief settled over me.

This is not happening.

"Sir."

"Kyle," Harold acknowledged.

"What happened?" I inquired as paramedics pushed past me.

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you that son of a bitch died," he clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

"Shit, don't tell me it's-"

"Derek Harris."

I surveyed the nerve-racking scene.

"What really happened?"

"Narcotics-he was in that whorehouse before he dropped dead."

Tremendous amounts of guilt clutched at me when I remembered how badly I wanted him dead. It felt like a nightmare from which I could not wake.

Starting towards the crime scene, I searched the crowd for Tess, but she was nowhere in sight.

There were just too many people.

"Good evening detective. I'm Kyle Anthony from the Boston Independent. I'd like to know what happened," I said to the stern-faced woman. Her natural hair was worn into a bun, and the blue police department regalia draped her body.

"Kimberly Francis-cocaine overdose, but we're suspecting it to have been something else."

"Like what?"

"The forensics are still looking into it so I can't confirm anything yet."

"Thank you." I pushed my way towards the stretcher where Derek's body laid.

But when finally a few feet from reach, I stopped as Tess stared at the open end with tight fists. Her eyes swirled with pain, and I almost doubled over when it hit me like a wave.

She ran her tongue over her teeth, hair whipping with the wind as angry tears dashed down her cheeks.

Oh no, Tess.

She hastily wiped them away.

Finding your boyfriend dead from a drug overdose was one thing, but at a brothel was another.

I wanted to pull her into my chest and just let her unravel every single thing she was holding back, but when one of the forensics said that he had found something, I turned my attention towards that.

"What was it?" The detective quizzed as the man showed her a photograph.

"If you look closely, you'll see small pieces of what looks like glass, but they are in fact diamonds. The shards probably damaged his air-pipe, because the amount of blood was questionable, Detective Francis."

"So, what you're saying is, this could've been a murder."

"Precisely, unless if he was intoxicated to the extent of taking in the sharp pieces. It's advisable to find a specialist."

"And it wouldn't have made sense since he needed something strong to break the rock, if it is authentic. How desperate could he have been to do so himself?" She countered.