Murder Mystery Chp. 1

A new beginning and yes, I'm using James Hayes again. Different personality, different story.

James Hayes stood in front of a large window on the second story of the Police Station in Boston. His wrists were red from handcuffs and his body was sore from the previous few days. The hour and a half drive from the smallest village in America didn’t help. It was the town of Pinewood with a population of less than 250 people.

            Hayes’ face was covered in blood and dirt. The plaid shirt and jeans were no different. His short brown hair was wet, greasy, and messy. His blue eyes glared blankly down at the busy street. He barely acknowledged the movement of the city, let alone the door that opened behind him.

            Chief Michael and the Department Psychologist, Sharon Blake, walked into the office that had two lazy boy chairs, a round table close to the corner of the room, and the Chief’s desk that Hayes’ stood behind.

            “James, we need your statement and you have to go through a psych eval.” Chief Michael was a bald, black man who stood tall and ran the Police with a loose iron fist. Everyone liked him including the media who had nothing but nice things to say. Under his watch, the city’s crime rates have went down. Regardless of his personal achievements, he would give credit to every woman and man in the department. He was a team player and as such, he put his officers first. He even went as far as to cancel meetings with the Mayor to talk privately with any person, officer or not, who was having a bad day.

            “Mr. Hayes’?” Sharon wasn’t the most popular person in the department. She was nice enough but her job title kept many officers away from her. Like the Chief, she cared for everyone in the Department. Most of the time she held her black hair tightly back in a ponytail and wore some form of business attire that wasn’t a dress.

            “Yeah?” Hayes’ voice cracked after half an hour being left alone in silence. His eyes grew heavy as every minute passed.

            “Have a seat over here, please?” Her voice was stern yet gentle. Hayes’ turn and saw that she was carrying a folder in her arms and was wearing pink reading glasses, which was unusual because she never wore glasses before that. Her hand gestured for him to a seat around the round table.

            Reluctantly, Hayes sat down in the chair and the Chief and Sharon sat down across from him. Immediately, Sharon opened the folder and withdrew a pen and started looking over the contents over the page. The Chief sat there, leaning back in his chair and watching Hayes with both understanding and distrust.

            “This conversation will not be recorded, the only document associated with this situation is the psych evaluation. First things first, tell us what happened?” Sharon said glancing up at Hayes.

            “Can we do this tomorrow? I’m tired, dirty, hungry, and just want a break from this bullshit for at least a night.” Hayes said between a whine and anger.

            Chief Michael sighed, closed his eyes, and rubbed his temple. It was a habit he did when he was trying to figure out possible options.

            After a moment of silence, he opened his eyes,” Ok, we’ll pick up on this in the morning. It’s been a long day for all of us and it’s not even dinnertime yet. However, I’m afraid I can’t leave you alone for the night. You will have someone with you for the night. We’ll pick up on this at 8:30 tomorrow morning.”

            “I’ll do it.” Sharon blurted out suddenly. Hayes just stared tiredly at her. He didn’t care, he just wanted to leave and get to his apartment.

            “Isn’t that a little unprofessional, Sharon?” The Chief asked.

            “It is, but I want to examine his behavior and possibly get him to open up a little bit. Statistics show that people feel more comfortable in their own territory and are more willing to open up.” Sharon said, slowly closing the folder. Slowly she removed her glasses and looked at the Chief, waiting for his decision. Another awkward silence.

            “Fine. I’ll allow it. But tell no one about this decision.” Last thing the Chief wanted was officers asking if a officer of opposite gender could be their partners. It wasn’t allowed until you reached Homicide Detective.” Only reason I’m allowing this is because you’re a Private Investigator, Hayes, and I trust the both of you.” He stood up, followed by Sharon, and then Hayes. Lazily, he shook hands with the Chief and walked out of the room.  Slowly, he strolled down the aisles of desks and noise to the elevators. He pressed the down button.

            “So we’ll take your car to my place so I can pick up some overnight things and then we’ll go to your place.” Sharon’s voice from behind. Frustration bubbled up inside Hayes.

            “Do you have your own vehicle?” Hayes asked as nicely as possible.

            “Yeah…” Sharon replied in hesitation.

            “Then take your own car to your own damn place.” Hayes snapped. He walked away from the elevator and decided to take the stairs. He didn’t feel bad about snapping at Sharon. He hated the idea of her staying the night at his apartment. Besides, he didn’t have a car. He had a BMW motorcycle.

            He stepped outside into the busy city and stood there for a moment trying to figure out what he wanted to do. He didn’t feel like he was ready to go to sleep yet. He was tired but he had too many unanswered questions on his mind. He approached a hot dog stand that was on the sidewalk and ordered a small meal. He settled down on the curb and ate silently, deep in thought.

            It was close to 9 o’clock when he walked up the stairs to his apartment, his thoughts hazy and his balance was next to nonexistent. He was surprised to see that Sharon Blake was sitting outside his door with a backpack and a small briefcase. She was asleep with headphones in her ears. He took the keys out of his pocket and stumbled with the key for a moment and opened the door. Sharon fell back and hit her head on the wooden floor. She let out a small scream.

            “Ow.” She sat up and rubbed the back of her head. Hayes ignored her and stumbled into the studio apartment on the fourth floor that he called home. He dropped the keys and helmet that was on his head onto the floor. Sharon seemed to notice something off about him instantly. She placed her things just inside door and closed it.

            “You’re drunk.” She concluded almost surprised.

            “Good detective work, Ms. Blake. With observations like that you can go far.” Hayes snorted sarcastically.

            “Why are you late?” She asked frustratingly.

            “You conclude I’m drunk but you can’t conclude where I’ve been?” Hayes smirked.

            Sharon blushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.  Hayes, at this point, was in the kitchen getting himself water. He, then, went into the cabinets to get Tylenol.

            “An old trick I quickly learned when I started drinking. Water and Tylenol, best thing for avoiding hang overs.” Talking mostly to himself.  After he got the glass of water, he stumbled into his room and slammed the door behind him leaving Sharon standing there speechless. He sat down on his small bed and put the glass on the night stand next to the bed. He slowly undressed and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

           

Sharon sat on the couch trying to figure out how to handle this situation. She wanted to know what happened in Pinewood. She was one of the first ones to get there and find over a dozen dead bodies and a bloody and dirty Hayes. She had a feeling that some of the bodies were caused by him but he didn’t kill all of them. She had that feeling.

            She stood up and marched to the door of Hayes’ bedroom and knocked angrily. No movement could be heard, but she heard some kind of water running inside. She opened the door slowly and looked inside. No one was there, but the bathroom door was open and steam was slowly coming out. She wanted to do back into the living room area but her feet moved towards the bathroom. She peered inside and saw Hayes standing there in front of a foggy mirror still in his boxer briefs. Through the steam in the bathroom, she could barely make out bruises and scars on his back. The lower back was fully wrapped in medical bandages all around the waist and it was dirty and soaked in blood. But what caught her breath was a black mark on his back. It looked as if it was burned onto his skin. It looked like a torch.

            “Hayes?” She asked nervously. Slowly Hayes turned slowly and Sharon saw tears in his eyes. He walked towards her and stopped in front of her. She looked at his chest and saw the same burn mark before Hayes silently closed the bathroom door. She heard a click and knew he locked the door.

            She walked back out to the living room and sat down on the couch. Again surprised by Hayes. She thought he was just an ignorant, self absorbed action junky. But the look he gave her was pure pain and sadness.

 

            His entire body ached. The scraps, knife wounds, and rope burns. Blood still dripped down his body from the bandage around his waist. But what really hurt the most, was the emblems that was scorched onto his skin from the assailants in Pinewood. Tears formed in his eyes as he thought, Those b******s got away. Those sons of b*****s got away from the murders. He got so close to solving the most puzzling mystery in his lifetime and they got away… and it was his fault that those innocent people died and their killers got away.

            “Hayes?” He heard Sharon’s voice from behind and turned to look at her. He realized he was standing in his bathroom with the shower running. Every movement killing his muscles. He approached her and looked into her eyes that were looking at his scorched skin. He silently closed the door before she asked the question he knew she wanted to ask.

            After he finished taking his shower, he went into his bedroom and put on sweatpants and opened his bedroom door. He needed bandages and they were all in the kitchen. He walked passed Sharon who just glared at his skin and went into the kitchen. He grabbed everything he needed to take care of the cuts and bruises…but nothing for the burnt skin. He didn’t have anything for that. He rolled his shoulders and neck, finally filling the stress catch up to him in that moment.

            “F*****g ointment.” Hayes whispered to himself. He went back into his bedroom and placed everything on the bed, then he put on shoes and a sweatshirt. He walked back towards the door.

            “Where do you think you’re going?” Sharon asked in a whisper.

            “To the store, is that ok with you, babysitter?” He didn’t mean to be pissy with her but with how his luck’s been the past few days, it felt good to get some frustration off his chest.

            “I’m coming with you.” Sharon said standing up. She refused to look up at him.

            With the alcohol slowly draining from his system, he turned and looked at her.

            “No, you’re not. Stay here and get some sleep.” He said almost harshly.

            “Too bad. “ She was getting her shoes on.” I’m coming with you.” Hayes sighed frustratingly. He was in no mood for this s**t.

            Instead of wait for her, he just walked out the door and slammed it behind him before she could get off the couch. He stormed down the stairs and out the front door. He walked down the block and entered Rite Aid that was open all night. He went into the medicine aisles and spent a few minutes trying to find some form of burn gel. He went up to the counter where an old lady was sitting reading a book. She looked up at him as if he had committed a crime.

            “$4.98.” She said after ringing it up on the scanner. Hayes reached into his pocket and looked down. He forgot his wallet on the bed. He heaved another sigh.

            “I’ll get it.” Sharon’s voice said from behind him. He looked around and saw her just entering the store. She brought out her wallet and bought the burn ointment. Hayes just walked outside.

            “Here you go.” Sharon said handing it to him after she exited the store. Hayes simply took it and started walking back to the apartment. Sharon walking alongside him, Hayes allowing it.

            “Want a massage?” Sharon asked suddenly. Hayes was thrown off and looked at her surprised but he said nothing.  He wasn’t stupid. He knew she wanted to see the scars and, above all, the scorched torch on his chest and back. But the idea of a massage seemed intriguing, even though he wouldn’t allow it.

            They got back to the apartment and Hayes simply walked back into his bedroom. Sharon sat back down on the couch. This time, he didn’t close the door, he simply cracked it. He took off the sweatshirt and laid down on the bed without lifting the covers. He had to lay down sideways because the pressure from laying on his back or chest hurt too much. He had a strange feeling that he forgot something but the bed was far too comfortable to get up and find out what. Slowly he drifted to sleep.

            He woke up to a hand running gently along his back. Still groggy and the memory of Pinewood on his mind, he instinctively twisted and threw the assailant to the ground. He was up on his feet and in a fighting stance when he realized it was Sharon. She looked fearful as she slowly got up onto her feet.

            “You didn’t put the ointment on your burns. I was just helping.” Her voice was shaking. Hayes lowered his fists and grabbed hold on her forearms and pulled her up onto her feet. He didn’t know what to really say to her. He didn’t know if he should thank her or apologize for the incident and everything else or even be angry that she was trying to investigate a burn on his body.

            He turned and looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was 7 o’clock in the morning. He was still exhausted and sat down on his bed. Sharon simply stood there and then sat down next to him.

            “Can I please examine the marks?” She asked directly.

            “No. Get out.” He said flatly. Acknowledging that the marks existed would mean remembering how he got them. He didn’t want to deal with that memory.

            “We have that meeting this morning.” She said trying to find a reason to stay. Hayes could tell she was glancing at his burn marks.

            “Tell him we’ll have the meeting here since everyone wants to invite themselves over to my place.” Hayes said angrily.” Now get out.”

            Sharon still sat there silently looked at his face then down to his chest where the burn was. Hayes simply ignored her and then moved down onto the cold wooden floor. He laid down there and closed his eyes. He could sense Sharon’s eyes were still on him. But his eyes grew heavy and, soon, he was fast asleep.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I like this story. You have my attention. I wanted to know more and find out the who, what, where, when and how of this story. I like the characters and the strong description of people and location. You made each situation important with a powerful story. Thank you for the excellent story.
Coyote

[Larry Dyson]

really good I read the whole thing in a first sitting ,understood it well and its good..few typos and spellings thats all id say ...well written