Richard Hale - Frozen Past

Jaxon walked back into the investigations department and put Sally’s Diet Pepsi on her desk.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Don’t mention it,” he said and grinned.

Sitting back down at his desk, he grabbed another stack of photos and started leafing through them.

“I’m getting a headache,” she said.

“Can’t be worse than mine.”

His phone rang. “Jaxon.”

“It’s Halson. Found something interesting on the fibers in the Doe/Bannon case.”

“Shoot,” Jaxon said.

“Some of the fibers pulled from the filtered pool water match the clothing on the Doe boy and then some do not.”

“So…”

“I’m getting there,” Halson said. “The fabric from the Doe clothing is manufactured using a very new and modern technique. The textile mills in India began developing a type of nanotechnology to enhance their fabrics. Basically they were looking for ways to improve softness, durability, inflammability-that kind of thing. It’s almost like genetic engineering for cloth.”

“What are you saying? The clothing is special?”

“Sort of. It’s only sold through one chain in the U.S. Old Navy stores, of which there are three in Fairfax county. Jaxon-these are modern clothes on a kid who has been dead for a long time.”

“Ok-so he dressed him in new duds for the swim.”

“Wait, I’m not finished. We found a few other fibers which were also unusual. Two small samples of a Dacron/cotton mixture which are no longer manufactured and a rubber type compound that is also obsolete. Both of these types of materials were found to be toxic in some form or another and the production of them was halted in 1985.”

“But if the…”

“Hold on. Both the rubber and the cloth were new to the market back then and were only made for a short time before they were pulled. Specifically, the production of the cloth began in March of 1984 and the rubber in April of that same year. They were both shut down in September of 1985.”

“How confident are you these fibers are from our John Doe?” Jaxon asked, a grin forming on his face.

“Pretty damn sure. The management company says they drain the pool yearly for maintenance. I mean you could have some old ‘has been’ with his rejects from the 80’s hanging out by the pool looking for babes, but that’s highly unlikely. I’d say about 80 % sure.”

“Halson, you are my hero as of this moment.”

“Don’t get too excited. You still have some work to do to find out who the kid is.”

“We’re on it.”

* * *

Luke and Ellie were at her house sitting in a swing in her backyard. They both had a glass of lemonade in their hands and were leaning shoulder to shoulder against each other sipping the drinks. It was hot.

He could tell she was still upset at him about the rocket episode, but at least she was talking.

“I’m sure after this cools off a bit,” Luke said, “Mr. Stinson will be a lot more forgiving. He’s just upset at us right now.”

“I doubt it,” Ellie said. “He looked pretty angry. Adults seem to hold on to grudges almost as long as girls.” She smiled.

At least she could joke about it. “We’ll see. I’ll bet you’re babysitting for Mel and Robby again before the summer’s over.”

“I’m not counting on it, but it would be nice. I like those two a lot.”

She was quiet for a minute, then said, “Are you worried about the missing pets?”

“No-not really. It might just be coincidence. I know you’re worried.”

“Do you really think five missing dogs and cats is a coincidence?”

“Is it that many?”

She nodded. “Three from your court, one from mine, and one from Oak Street.”

“Three from my court? Damn-I guess I wasn’t paying attention. Does sound like a lot. Have any of them been found?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t go around asking anybody. They would think I was weird.”

“True.”

“What? I’m weird?” she asked.

“Totally. The weirdest person I know. I mean, look at the company you keep.”

She punched him in the arm and he spilled his drink in his lap.

“Hey!” he yelled, laughing. He threw the rest of the lemonade at her and it hit her right in the face. She sat there with her mouth open in shock.

“Oh crap! I’m sorry, El! I didn’t mean to.”

She laughed and dumped her lemonade over the top of his head. It ran down his face and back and he cringed from the cold. “That’s it weirdo! You’re in for it now!” He reached for her but she jumped up and ran. He caught up to her near a big maple tree in her backyard and she squealed as he tackled her to the ground. She rolled over on top of him and he let her pin his arms to the ground. The sticky lemonade made grass and dirt cling to their faces and clothes.

“Who’s a weirdo?” she teased.

“You!”

She tickled him in the ribs and he squirmed uncontrollably underneath her. “No! Not tickling! I can’t control myself!”

“Who’s the weirdo?” she repeated.

“I am! I am!”

“Damn right you…!” She stopped.

He squirmed for a second longer and then realized something was wrong. He looked up at her above him and saw her staring at something behind his head.

“What?” he said, breathless. “What is it?”

Silent, she got up off of him and stood staring. He rose up and looked behind him. He didn’t know what he was looking for at first, but then he saw it. Sticking up about two inches above the ground, just under the maple tree, was an animal’s paw. The brown fur and black nails clearly visible above the dirt. A single fly buzzed around it and then landed on a toenail. He stood up next to her and then walked over to the tree. It was a dog’s paw. Pretty good sized dog from what he could judge. The soil he was standing on was loose and squishy and he stepped back away from the area, uncomfortable with the way it felt beneath his bare feet. Ellie stood next to him and stared.

“Do you have a shovel?” he whispered, his voice sounding funny in the shade of the tree.

She looked at him. “In the garage, but…”

“Go get it.”

She looked at the dog’s paw again, her lip trembling, and then she left to get the shovel. He looked at the area around the paw and could tell it had been disturbed. The grass looked funny. He reached out and pulled a piece and it shifted easily in the soil. It had been dug up and then put back. He would never have noticed it unless he was standing right on top of it. Another fly buzzed around the protruding paw and then a third. Luke could now smell a whiff of decay and he backed away, unsure if he wanted to dig up the rest.

Ellie came back with the shovel and she handed it to Luke. “Are you sure?” she said.

Luke grabbed the shovel and started to dig. It only took a minute for him to realize the dog was not the only thing buried here.

“Bingo!” Sally shouted. “We got him!”

Jaxon rushed over and peered at the picture she was holding in her hand. Dead Ringer. Their John Doe now had a real name.

“Stewart Alan Littleton,” Sally said. “He’s been missing since October 31, 1984. Last seen by his Mother, June Littleton, before he went out Trick-or-Treating.”

Jaxon scanned the statistics on the sheet. “He lived right here in Fairfax. Reston. Last address Southgate Square.”

“Twenty seven years ago,” Sally said.

“Yeah,” Jaxon said. “Unbelievable huh? Let’s see if we can get a contact. Parents, brothers, sisters, anything.”

“Last known phone number and address are current as of September,” Sally said. “They kept it updated every year. The number listed is for June Littleton.”

“This time we do it the right way,” he said. “You contact her and we’ll bring her in to identify the body.”