When people started questioning the whereabouts of Evelyn, Kevin concocted an elaborate story of how she and her constant companion Ralph, had decided to take a sort of “sabbatical.” He claimed that they had discussed the trip as a way to try to salvage their floundering marriage. “We thought that being apart for a while would make us start to appreciate each other a little more,” he said.
The women at the support group immediately suspected that something was afoul but bound by confidentiality and an element of fear, they said nothing.
A month went by before one of them finally made a secret call to the police and with the officers’ assurance of anonymity, told them about Evelyn’s plan and how odd it seemed that she disappeared without letting any of them know.
After an extensive search of the house, it couldn’t be determined that Evelyn was dead. There was no indication of foul play in the home and when Luminol was sprayed throughout, no evidence of blood was found. With the avenues now available, people, especially battered women are able to disappear with relative ease.
Just as they were about to mark the case as cold, a novice detective named Quince Brown noticed a large pile of wood in the back of the property. Despite Kevin’s objections, he started moving the wood. Evelyn wasn’t found but the remains of Ralph were.
Quince had a gut feeling and immediately wanted to have an autopsy performed. His partner scoffed at him. “What the hell are you talking about? An autopsy on a dog? It’s clear what happened here,” he said. “Somebody beat his head in with a rock. It’s animal cruelty but we didn’t witness it, so just let it go.”
Quince was adamant and stood his ground. “I’ve just got a feeling that there is more to this than just finding a buried dog.” His hardheadedness prevailed and the dog was taken to the local coroners’ office.
Flack from his partner wasn’t the only teasing he took. The coroner, old man Jenkins, jokingly said “where do you think you are? The animal hospital? We autopsy humans here…or what used to be humans. We don’t autopsy animals.”
Quince lied when he said his lieutenant had ordered it to be done. “Okay,” Jenkins said. “This will be one for the books for me…and tell your lieutenant that he owes me one.”
When Jenkins completed his report, he stood there scratching and shaking his head as he said, “I’ve seen a lot in my time but I’ve never seen anything like this. This dog’s last meal was organs. Now, if animals get hungry enough, they’ll eat each other and yes, they’ll eat the organs but these are human organs and it looks to me like they were actually cooked before they were eaten.”
That was a watershed moment. A high-five moment. The dog had eaten her organs, which meant that somebody had to remove them and cook them. Quince was sure of two things. Evelyn was dead, and the dog hadn’t killed her.
A thorough and exhaustive search was executed on the property and bag after bag was found. Some of them had been dug up by animals. leaving no flesh and very little bone but there was no doubt that Evelyn was being found, one piece at a time.
Quince began asking for statements from neighbors who were hesitant at first but after hearing that Evelyn had been murdered, finally began to talk. They said they had heard the fighting and the screams and pleas from her. They said that they had heard his foul mouth attacking her and Ralph.
When asked why none of them called the police, one woman said “oh, we didn’t want to get involved.”
Quince, who was not one to blow smoke up anyone’s ass, said “well, I guess we should hope that if you ever need help, somebody will be willing to ‘get involved’ before your body parts end up scattered all over your back yard.”
It was our turn to take over the reports, evidence and affidavits. Everything was in order and in our hands.
Our case was solid. Kevin May had killed his wife.
I admit that I was ready to proverbially spit in the face of Parker Patterson and smile as I watched it dribble onto her perfect couture outfit.
To be continued________________