jdcartwright (jdcartwright) wrote in birthrightrpg, @ 2020-12-16 12:41:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | jd cartwright |
Death of a young witch
When: A few hours after body of Shannon Foust found
Crouched next to the young woman’s body JD lightly flipped up the edge of the open throat of the blouse with glove-covered fingers, following the trail of the chain that was visible around her neck. Using a pen he carefully lifted the links, until finally it was clear of concealment. A small silver moon alongside a tiny glass globe had him frown and lean in closer. Twisting the globe he could make out the contents shifting slightly. “Make sure they check what’s inside this,” he instructed the young coroner’s intern who was standing behind him taking photographs of the items as JD held them for him. He lowered the jewelry and looked down at the victim’s hand. When he rolled her hand over the pentacle could be made out even through the blood and dirt that was clotted on her skin. Again the camera recorded the images.
“Another witch,” he murmured to himself, the frown deepening as he looked over the injuries he could see again. They were similar to those found on the bodies of the three killed earlier, and his lips pursed as he pushed himself up. “Do we have the address?”
A short while later JD and two uniforms arrived at the front door of one of the UNLV campus apartment blocks, greeted by campus security. “Both roommates are staying with friends,” they were told as they climbed the stairs. Reaching the door the security guard quickly unlocked it and flicked the lights on. Uniforms had already looked around the apartment after the girl was reported missing, but now JD wanted to take a look himself. Missing Persons usually looked for different things to Homicide.
One of the uniforms remained outside the door of the apartment, the other accompanied JD inside as the detective started looking around for anything that might give some clues as to what happened to the young woman. It didn’t take him long to figure out which of the three bedrooms belonged to the victim.
There was no mistaking the artwork and placement of various crystals and other symbolism throughout the room. The scatter rugs on the floor were lifted, then lowered again after they revealed the drawings on the underside of the floor coverings.
“Reminds me of my cousin’s place,” the uniformed officer at the door commented as the rug flopped back down to cover the drawn lines. “Smells the same too,” he added.
“Your cousin’s a practicing witch?” JD asked, giving the young man a glance before continuing his slow pacing around the space, gloves in place.
“Yeah, or so she says,” the young police officer replied, “though her mama says it’s just a phase she’s going through, and an excuse to burn incense to cover up what she’s smokin’.”
JD smiled and nodded. “Yeah, you get them too,” he agreed with a chuckle, reaching the bookshelf. It was an eclectic collection of books ranging from ‘bodice busters’ and text books, which were pushed to the back to make way for the latest additions, stacked in front. He picked up one that caught his attention and opened the cover, a receipt falling out and fluttering to the ground. He bent, picked up the pale strip of register roll and looked at the merchant details. “Curiosities, huh?” He was familiar with the place, had learned over the decades that it was a reputable outlet, unlike most of the ‘magic shops’ around town. He returned the receipt to the book after taking a photo of it, replacing the book on the pile and scanning the names. It was pretty clear she was a regular customer, and had made a few visits to the store from the other receipts he found, each of which he photographed.
After checking the closest and under the bed, and taking a few more photos, JD stopped at the window and looked out, then down. Across the sill were placed a series of crystals, and between them and the window was a line of what he could only deduce was salt. He looked over his shoulder at the door and frowned. There was clearly a colour difference in the carpet, and he crossed over, crouching down and pressing his fingers into the faded area, able to feel a slight crunch in the fibres. Salt.
Straightening up he inhaled deeply, glanced over his shoulder one more time at the room, then looked at the uniformed officer. “Back to the station, I’ll do the next stop on my own,” he told the man, the three of them departing after making sure the front door was locked.
Outside a crowd was gathering, a candle-light vigil having been announced earlier for the following night, but clearly word having spread around the campus and an informal gathering taking place as people heard the news. He paused, taking a look at the small crowd and then looking up to see where the surveillance cameras were located. “Mind sending us a copy of what you get tonight, and tomorrow night??” he asked the campus cop still with them. He handed them his card and after casting another look across the faces of the gathering crowd, headed back to the car park.