M Sellars: Love Is The Bond

“Yeah, nothin’ out there in the way of evidence we could see,” he agreed. “Except the car. It’s the victim’s, so we’ll want it covered in and out before we start tearin’ it apart.”

“No problem. I still need some overalls of the lot and sign too,” Felicity offered. “But I thought I might wait for daybreak since it’s not far off.”

“Makes sense,” Murv told her with a nod. “Then just play it by the book. I’ve got a few markers down in here. Not much, but go ahead and shoot every angle just to be safe. We’ll sort it out later.”

“Yeah,” Ben agreed. “Cover all the bases. Two of everything.”

“Aye,” she returned. “No problem. Digital okay?”

“Hi-res?” Murv asked.

“Six megapixel, raw.”

He nodded. “Go for it.”

“You got gloves for ‘em?” Ben asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, rummaging around in his coat pockets for a second then extracting a wad of latex. Just as he was handing them to us, he let loose with a third explosive sneeze. This time, however, it exited well ahead of his reflexes, containing itself within the mask.

“Crap,” he exclaimed then shoved the gloves into Felicity’s hand as he headed out the door muttering, “If y’all ‘ll excuse me for a minute.”

“You couldn’t get someone else, Ben?” Felicity admonished as she picked a pair of gloves from the wad then handed the rest to me. “That man should be in bed.”

“Don’t let ‘im fool ya’, Felicity,” he returned. “He runs the CSU. He would’ve insisted on being here anyway. Besides, he’s the best there is.”

“Aye, well I still say he needs a tottie and a good night’s rest.”

“I’ll tell ‘im you said that.”

She cast a quick glance between us then handed me the camera bag she had been carrying slung over her shoulder.

“All right,” she announced, moving on to the business at hand. “We’ll work the main room clockwise, including the dressing area, then we’ll do that bathroom separate. Row, there’s a logbook in that bag. Just stay behind me and write down whatever I tell you. Ben, I hate to tell you this, but you need to be somewhere else. Because, right now, you’re in my way.”

A blinding flash of illumination burst forth, painting the corner in its harsh glow, then dissipated almost as quickly as it had presented itself. The steady whistle of the thyristor on the flash unit started squealing through the otherwise quiet room, rising in pitch until it was almost imperceptible.

The owner of the motel had arrived just after we began working through the main room and per one of the uniformed officers, was asking to speak to the person in charge. Ben staved him off for a few minutes, but as soon as Murv had returned from replacing his ruined dust mask, my friend had left to address the situation. The flu-stricken crime scene tech walked the room with us, only once interjecting a question about a particular angle, but other than that he left Felicity alone to do her job. I assumed that was a good sign.

“That was forty-eight, correct?” my wife asked without turning.

“Yeah. Forty-eight,” I replied.

I watched over her shoulder as she peered at the miniature LCD on the back of the camera.

“Evidence marker B,” she called out as she kneeled down and put the viewfinder back to her eye. “Men’s wallet, floor, mid-range. Fifty millimeter, strobe.” The flash popped again, and she continued. “And, forty-nine. Marker B, wallet, floor, close-up. Fifty millimeter, strobe.”

I backed out of her way as she stood, but I continued scribbling the notes she had dictated.

“Got it,” I finally said.

“All right then,” she replied absently as she inspected the top display on the camera then deftly ejected the flash memory card and handed it to me. Once she had popped in a fresh card, she looked up and handed me the small protective case. “That’s it for the main room. Let’s move to the back.”

Thus far, the process had been nothing more than routine. Admittedly, since this was a homicide crime scene, and with knowing that the victim’s body was awaiting us in the next room, it lent a surreal quality to each shot taken; but even that didn’t prevent it from approaching abject boredom.

Still, I had to say I was more than just slightly impressed by my wife. With every passing moment, she was demonstrating just exactly how much of a pro she truly was. Even though she had never said exactly how well she did in the courses she had taken, I was willing to bet she had aced them. Watching her now, if I didn’t know better, I would have sworn she’d been doing this job for years.

“Rowan,” she asked, looking up at me. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I returned with a shrug. “Why?”

“You’re kind of quiet.”

“Just tired,” I replied, not wanting to embarrass her here with a gush of praise. I’d wait until we were alone for that.

“No headaches then?”

Her query suddenly made more sense. “No. Nothing to worry about,” I answered then added as an afterthought, “Yet.”

“Aye, yet. That’s what I’m afraid of,” she replied with a sigh then after a brief pause, cocked her head toward the back of the room. “Come on, then.”

“I’m gonna go ahead and get a coupl’a guys started on this stuff out here,” Murv told us.

“Sounds good,” Felicity replied. “We’ll be another half hour, maybe forty-five minutes, back here.”

“That’ll work,” he answered. “Take all the time ya’ need. By the way, rumor has it the Feebs are on their way.”

“That was quick,” I offered.

“Storm wanted ‘em in the loop,” he replied to my unasked question. “Federal judge, all that jazz.”

As crime scenes go, Ben’s assessment had been for the most part correct, up to and including the fact that Felicity and I had both seen much worse. For instance, when you’ve viewed the remains of one of your friends who’d been eviscerated by a madman, you’ve pretty much pushed the envelope.

Still, even though the horrific visions of that, and other things I’d witnessed, would never be completely erased from my mind, they had at least dulled with time. Unfortunately, that familiarity had also served to desensitize me to the offensive sights, or so I had come to believe. The simple fact was that there were even times when I found myself wondering about my own capacity for compassion after everything I’d seen.

On this particular morning, however, upon reaching the doorway of the bathroom, it became painfully apparent that not stopping and grabbing a quick bite for breakfast had been a wise choice.

As we had worked the main portion of the room, moving systematically around the clock face just as Felicity had prescribed, we had made sure to include the dressing area just outside the bathroom door. But my wife had been doing the actual shooting, not me. Since the area was too small for the both of us, I had remained back and out of the way in order to allow her ample space to work. Because of that, I was only just now witnessing the abomination that had been patiently waiting.

Maybe it was the fact that it had been two years since I’d been directly involved with a homicide investigation. Maybe I had finally managed to simply forget. Whatever the reason, I had been forced back across the line between callousness and humanity. I had been living in a calm, safe world long enough now that in a single instant I discovered I wasn’t nearly as jaded as I had once feared.

Unfortunately, that realization was forced completely out of my mind by the acrid tang of bile on the back of my tongue. I heard Felicity call out a description followed by a focal length and light source just as she’d been doing earlier. However, I was completely unable to write it down, especially not now that I had my head hanging almost between my knees, and I was struggling to control my breathing. The bright stab of the strobe flash flickered red through my tightly shut eyelids, and I heard my wife saying something again, but I was still unable to respond.