The Broken Roads End

“Rusty!” Sheriff Taylor called from the thickets that lie between them. “Did you see an opening we can get through?” Sheriff Taylor and in in this area before, many years ago. But with the constant change in the terrain due to the flooding occurring at least three times a year, he had to find new ways to reach the river each time. “Go around about 50 feet. Seems to thin out there.” Rusty knew this area well. He had mentally prepared for Sheriff Taylor’s arrival by scanning the area beforehand. It took only a few minutes longer before Sheriff Taylor, Ofc. Cummings, and Dr. Jake Holmes, the county coroner, were overcome by the rancid odor, even before seeing the body. “Oh shit!” Officer Cummings was the first to react . “Ew ee musky! This one’s been here a while!” Sheriff Taylor knew the smell all his years of discovering bodies. Not all bodies were homicides. However, some people without people in out of the way areas, were finally found deceased, having been missed by others. “Rusty, you didn’t touch anything right?” Doc Holmes asked at the start of his investigation. He knew he hadn’t, but for the record, he had to ask. Rusty was worn out, but still hadn’t lost his sense of humor. ”Well Doc, we had taken a ride on Jasmine to look at the scenery, but she got a little hard to hold and hold with her flesh flipping off her ass on the saddle. “Rusty said with the imagery. “Sorry, no Doc, I touched nothin’” “Go figure, finally found a woman and she’s fallen to pieces over you!” Doc home shook his head. Doc had a sense of humor too. It was one thing to help keep him sane. He never meant any disrespect to the deceased, nor did Rusty, it just a survival mechanism. By replacing morbid emotion with a little humor, the task at hand was easier to approach. Rusty did a great job placing the police tape cordoning off the area. Now, Ofc. Cummings began to photograph the area and the body before the first contact was made. Flashes and the sound of the shutter was the beginning of the discovery phase of the investigation. After the roll of film encompassed the scene at discovery, Doc Holmes began his own discovery process. He removed his small cassette recorder and began his notes. “Female, between the age of 30 and 35. Appears to have been washed down stream, origin unknown. Found lying along shore of the Elk River, prone on stones approximately…” He paused the tape. “Rusty, how far from Clay would you say we are?” “Were about 6 miles up Elk, 4 miles as the crow flies.” Rusty knew the answer with his extensive knowledge of the area. “Good enough.” He nodded his head and continued. “6 miles up the Elk River from Clay. The body shows decay, but no definite time of death. At this time due to the fluctuating temperature over the past few weeks. Clothing on the body consists of blue jeans, which are torn in many areas, a white cotton T-shirt, also torn in many areas. There are no shoes with the body. Hair color appears to be a natural blonde,” Doc Holmes paused the tape. “Cummings, where is the spray paint? Let’s outline her so I can flip her over.” Cummings scrambled over the rocky shoreline, fumbling in his backpack for the quick dry fluorescent orange paint. He popped the lid and began the outline, starting at the top of the head and sprayed clockwise around the arm, which was extended at a 35° angle, and the legs spread slightly, and the other arm at a 60° angle. To Cummings, this was the easy part. The next part was what he always dreaded, turning a decayed corpse. After a few minutes, Doc instructed, “now Rust, get the head, Cummings, the legs, I’ll control of the torso.” He knew where to position everyone. As they all took their positions, “one, two, three.” The fear was palpable right before the turn, for fear she would fall part. No one ever spoke of this fear, but all braced for it. With effortless motion, the three flip the body on its back. The fear passed without incidence. “What the hell?” Sheriff Taylor was the first to see the face. “Who would do something like that?” Rusty knew it wasn’t a botched medical procedure. Ofc. Cummings froze in horror. He felt a wave of nausea as he saw the disfigurement, but knew he had to keep it under control. Doc Holmes knew the reason for what they saw. Someone wanted to hide the identity. The woman’s jaw showed signs of having her teeth removed erratically, with bits of roots remaining. This removed any chance of using dental record for identification. He looked at her hands, now facing upwards. Each fingertip was removed as well, having been burned off, leaving no chance for fingerprint identification. ‘I’m surprised he left her hair,’ Doc thought to himself. ‘Thank God we have DNA. The only problem now is the missing person report. Often they don’t worry about adults.’ “Doc, you ever see anything like this?” Sheriff Taylor asked after absorbing the shocking scene. “Nope,” was all he said. “Some son’abitch needs to fry for this one.” Cummings finally got his voice back. “You think he’s from the area?” His disgust turned to anger. “I’d love to run into this one. Give me a chance and I’d tear him a new asshole! Anyone, anyone who’d do something like that…” “All right Cummings, that’s enough.” Sheriff Taylor felt the same repulsion, that he knew it would help the situation. Rusty stood shaking his head in disbelief. Here laid a young woman, who, if her face was intact, was pretty compared to many of the hillbilly women he had met. “You think she was from around here, Doc?” “No telling at this point. We’ll have to check the missing persons list when we get back. I couldn’t imagine no one reporting her missing.” Doc Holmes, no matter how long he had been doing this type of work, could never understand how a person could commit such a ghastly crime. How, where, when, and why were the questions to be answered now, and it would take all he had to find a solution. “We are going to need a body bag Cummings. Lay it out while Doc finishes up. Reckon we won’t have any trouble putting her in it without her coming apart Doc?” Sheriff Taylor asked. Cummings and Jackson were the designated helpers for this job. So there would not be too many hands touching the corpse. Although he hated the responsibility, he was prepared to put his gloves on to help if it happened. Doc Holmes knew he loathed touching carcasses of any kind, and that this was a rare opportunity to let him know. “You know, Dale, those gloves of yours ain’t touch anything like this before. Why don’t you take Cummings place and have a feel? You’d be surprised how much it feels like Jell-O in places.” Cummings stood quickly, more than willing to relinquish his place. “Go-ahead Sheriff, I was get tired of stooping anyways.” In on the ribbing Cummings stood in preparation of taking his gloves off. “Sure Sheriff, show us how you’d do it? We are just new to this type of work ya know.” Rusty said, adding his two cents. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Seeing me touch her would tickled you pink wouldn’t it? I think y’all can handle it. I didn’t get this badge by listening to the likes of you.” Sheriff Taylor said as he backed away knowing they finally had their shot at harassing him over his phobia. “I hope you’re happy ‘cause when it’s your turn, for the pesterin,’ I’m gonna be first in line.” The group laughed at his comment. If not for the absurdity of the remark, the job at hand would be unbearable. The task was finished, according to protocol as a daylight diminished. Rusty, with the help of the others, loaded the body across Jasmine’s hind quarters and secured it for the ride to Doc Holmes station wagon. The responsibility finding the murderer had just begun. Hopes were high there would be no further bodies found before justice was served, but years would pass before it came to fruition. Rusty mounted Jasmine as they walked out the remote area towards their vehicles. Not a word was spoken a