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Authors: Mindy Starns Clark
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anything too high tech, but it would serve my purposes. I grabbed it and shut the hatchback with a click, turned off my flashlight, and headed off on foot to the main street. Once there, I turned away from the flashing police lights in the distance and starting walking up the highway.
The night was freezing cold by now, and I felt chilled to the bone despite my gloves and scarf. I walked fast, hoping to warm up as I went. The streetlights ended at the next block, and soon I was enveloped in silent darkness.
I kept walking, my eyes adjusting as I went. Once I was around the bend and completely out of sight of the police, I pulled out the little handheld unit and clicked it on. It was a simple device, a sort of portable black light I had purchased from a hotel supply company. The light was marketed as an inspection device for maintenance supervisors; in a darkened bathroom, for example, with the unit as the only light, one could see if the maids had cleaned adequately, for the black light illuminated substances a careless worker might leave behind, such as urine and bacteria.
The light also, however, illuminated blood, which was why it was an important tool for a private investigator. Though it had been quite a few years since my investigations routinely dealt with things like murder, I still found myself involved in the occasional odd case where things like this came in very handy. In fact, I had solved a murder case for my boss just two months before, up in Philadelphia. This time, though, the murder had happened much closer to home.
I held the unit pointed at the ground and kept walking up the highway away from Shayna’s house, hoping that soon it would pick up another drop of Eddie Ray’s blood. I didn’t have to wait long. After about five steps I spotted a circle in the road—a splatter that glowed white under the light. If my theory was correct, there would be another splatter ahead.
There was.
Fifteen minutes later, I was still walking, still tracking the dots of blood, and beginning to question the wisdom of doing this on foot. He could’ve bled for miles, I realized as I went. It was toocold and too dark to walk here much longer—not to mention that I was quite worried that any minute now more police cars would come or go along this main road. Again, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but considering that I hadn’t been hired to pursue this case, it seemed a bit odd that I would be out here now, tracking the trail of murder.
Still, I persisted a bit longer once I realized the dots were coming closer together. As I walked I thought over what I knew about blood and death. Once a person’s dead, of course, the heart stops pumping and the blood flow ceases. Eddie Ray must’ve survived for a while after his head injury, albeit unconsciously, because he obviously bled enough to drip all the way home, saturate the trunk, and make a puddle under the car. I was musing over this when I realized the drops were coming very close together now, about every two feet.
Finally, my light picked up some larger splatters, and then beyond them, nothing more. I ran ahead just to make sure, but the dots stopped at the larger splatters and didn’t seem to pick up again. I ran back to the area with the splatters, aware that I would have to be very careful not to disturb any evidence, because this had to be the point where Eddie Ray was struck.
I stood in the middle of the dark road, held the black light out in front of me, and turned slowly in a full circle. The light picked up something glowing in the bushes along the side of the road, so I stepped over there carefully and studied what I saw without touching anything. Small flecks of tissue here and there were enough to show the trajectory of the impact. The bush appeared to be something seed-producing, and I thought of the burrs on the back of the dead man’s sweater. He had been hit here, at the edge of the road. Perhaps he had even slumped against the bushes after impact
The night was freezing cold by now, and I felt chilled to the bone despite my gloves and scarf. I walked fast, hoping to warm up as I went. The streetlights ended at the next block, and soon I was enveloped in silent darkness.
I kept walking, my eyes adjusting as I went. Once I was around the bend and completely out of sight of the police, I pulled out the little handheld unit and clicked it on. It was a simple device, a sort of portable black light I had purchased from a hotel supply company. The light was marketed as an inspection device for maintenance supervisors; in a darkened bathroom, for example, with the unit as the only light, one could see if the maids had cleaned adequately, for the black light illuminated substances a careless worker might leave behind, such as urine and bacteria.
The light also, however, illuminated blood, which was why it was an important tool for a private investigator. Though it had been quite a few years since my investigations routinely dealt with things like murder, I still found myself involved in the occasional odd case where things like this came in very handy. In fact, I had solved a murder case for my boss just two months before, up in Philadelphia. This time, though, the murder had happened much closer to home.
I held the unit pointed at the ground and kept walking up the highway away from Shayna’s house, hoping that soon it would pick up another drop of Eddie Ray’s blood. I didn’t have to wait long. After about five steps I spotted a circle in the road—a splatter that glowed white under the light. If my theory was correct, there would be another splatter ahead.
There was.
Fifteen minutes later, I was still walking, still tracking the dots of blood, and beginning to question the wisdom of doing this on foot. He could’ve bled for miles, I realized as I went. It was toocold and too dark to walk here much longer—not to mention that I was quite worried that any minute now more police cars would come or go along this main road. Again, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, but considering that I hadn’t been hired to pursue this case, it seemed a bit odd that I would be out here now, tracking the trail of murder.
Still, I persisted a bit longer once I realized the dots were coming closer together. As I walked I thought over what I knew about blood and death. Once a person’s dead, of course, the heart stops pumping and the blood flow ceases. Eddie Ray must’ve survived for a while after his head injury, albeit unconsciously, because he obviously bled enough to drip all the way home, saturate the trunk, and make a puddle under the car. I was musing over this when I realized the drops were coming very close together now, about every two feet.
Finally, my light picked up some larger splatters, and then beyond them, nothing more. I ran ahead just to make sure, but the dots stopped at the larger splatters and didn’t seem to pick up again. I ran back to the area with the splatters, aware that I would have to be very careful not to disturb any evidence, because this had to be the point where Eddie Ray was struck.
I stood in the middle of the dark road, held the black light out in front of me, and turned slowly in a full circle. The light picked up something glowing in the bushes along the side of the road, so I stepped over there carefully and studied what I saw without touching anything. Small flecks of tissue here and there were enough to show the trajectory of the impact. The bush appeared to be something seed-producing, and I thought of the burrs on the back of the dead man’s sweater. He had been hit here, at the edge of the road. Perhaps he had even slumped against the bushes after impact
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