At precisely 9:00am, the relief officer arrived, punched in, punched Robbie in the arm and told him to get the 'F' out and we both said NO PROBLEM, and we did just that.
Once outside, he asked if I wanted to go by the Walters' shop and then to coffee and I said yup. We took my car and sped over the few blocks to where it sat at the corner of 3rd and West streets. Corner location and pretty sizable building. It had been completely remodeled several years ago and was striking next to the much older building facades around it.
The sign on the door said Saturdays, 9am to 2pm but another sign hanging next to it said the store was closed until Monday.
Oh well, That means they had not planned on being here this weekend, so why was he? Or maybe just working but at home?
Rob tried again and still no answer at the house, so we decided to drive there and see if we could see anything,..and we did.
It was several blocks away on an upscale residential street on the west side of town, The homes throughout that area are all fairly large with manicured lawns and attached garages of at least 2 or 3 stalls. Most probably 20-40 years old.
A neighbor next door was out working in his yard, and hollered at us and then came over to the car.
"You looking for Richard?"
"Yes."
"I haven't seen him since last night. I heard about a murder on the news this morning. Great job Dylan," he said turning to me. I didn't know him but of course he had seen me ON AIR, and often people feel like they know me even if they really don't. It's ok with me.
I blushed.
"Thanks."
(We had done a remote from the police station for the early weekend news.)
"I got a key if you want to go in and look around."
Rob brightened at that.
"Yeh, great," he told the neighbor, who said his name was John Robbins.
I know I had no idea what to expect and I am quite sure Robbie didn't either...at least not what we found.
John opened the front door with the key and let us go in first.
It was only about 10:15am and the foyer was fairly dark without any windows in it but the living room was brighter. Nothing seemed to be amiss, not so far anyway...and we continued through a dining room and then...
I was the first one into the kitchen and the first to see it, and the first to almost lose that Pizza we had had earlier. GOD what a mess...and in the middle of it all was....Richard. The late OH SO DEAD Richard, butchered would be a kind way to describe the scene and the first thing I noticed was that he had been decapitated and his head placed in the middle of the kitchen island. It was NOT suitable for framing, OR Sesame Street. Charles Manson Street maybe.
It was macabre to say the least, and reminiscent of one of the Nightmare on Elm Street movies or Jason flicks. Whoever this was is a SICK MOTHERFUCKER. He had for some inexplicable reason at this point decorated the head with various and assorted foodsies and that was TRULY bizarre. Even added sprinkles.
I looked at the officer of the hour (Rob) who I was sure was gonna lose his cookies at any moment and John who had immediately backed out of the kitchen retching. I turned and fled, closely followed by my fearless leader. who was now as pale as a ghost.
We got outside into the fresh air and Rob called for backup.
GOOD THOUGHT.
CONTINUE TO CHAPTER IV
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