Brightwater Mountain

by Mr. David R. Dorrycott

It was Monday, 11:48 AM and I was cold, tired and not really up to a drive up the mountain. That’s why my superior was driving. Besides, I had a headache. Something in the air did not agree with my sinus’s.

“Another stiff in tha woods” Arthur Grant cursed as he drove. “You’d think they’d at least have the decency to get killed in town. Not like Granet Bluff’s on the paved highway.”

“Why should they” his partner asked. “So you can visit Daisy’s easier?” Elizabeth Williams leaned back, she’d been Grant’s partner for nearly two years and, as gruff as the grey haired man might seem, he’d taught her a lot. A lot her academy classes had overlooked. Mainly, how to survive in the real world.

“Nah, Daisy stuffs too much sugar in her donuts” Grant replied, swerving just enough to miss another dead something or another. “You know I hate donuts.” He slowed, “Left or right?”

Another trick question. Arthur Grant, senior (and before Elizabeth had arrived the only) Detective of Patterson Valleys tiny police force had been born and raised here. He knew the area better than anyone. Except maybe his wife, the Mayor. Another year and he’d be retiring, turning the department over to his partner, the forces only other detective. “Left” Elizabeth decided, vaguely remembering having been out this way four? No five months before.

“Correct. Good memory.” Grant answered, as if she’d just made some special grade in his book. Who knew, she may just have. He turned, following a slightly thinner track. “Big trucks been by, see those limbs?” He pointed out his window, indicating dozens of tiny limbs hanging limply in the morning sun, their leaves already dehydrated. Dead. “How long?”

“Couple of days?” Elizabeth asked.

“Maybe, maybe last night what with the cold we’ve had. Early freeze and all. Sometimes yah gotta guess. Sometimes yer lucky. Probably Saturday, member a U-Totem going through town late Saturday afternoon. Probably the Martell’s headed back tah Florida. Family never could stand tha cold. Darn summerflys.”

Elizabeth grinned, Summerflys, Snowbirds, every region had their own names for the transient vacationers who arrived. They were either fleeing summer heat or winter cold. In Patterson Valley’s case, summer heat. There were no ski resorts within easy driving range. In fact, other than Imperial Research, there wasn’t anything within easy driving range. Of course if you liked to hunt that was a different matter. Three cutoffs later Grant brought the aging police car to a stop, pulled out a sheet of notepaper, nodded at what he read and turned in. Another quarter mile brought them to a small log style cabin. The towns other police vehicle was parked outside, next to Parsons Crossings car and both towns only ambulance.

As Elizabeth exited her side of the vehicle Thomas Bradly came out of the house. “Made a pee-lim of the outside” he announced. “No footie-prints, no jimmed windows, just one cracked one. Doors not jimmed either.”

“How did our victim die” Grant asked while he helped Elizabeth gather their gear from the cars trunk.

“That’s the odd thing. Her brains splattered all over the wall, but I couldn’t see an entry wound.”

“Her?” Elizabeth asked.

“Yeah, not ah local nither” Bradly admitted. You want I should show you around?”

“Tom. Elizabeth and I can deal with this now, you better get back to town” Grant ordered. He noted the scowl Bradly gave him, only an instant, but long enough. “That boys too damn dumb for his own good” he told Elizabeth after the deputy had walked off to his car. “Too damn dumb and too woman hungry.”

“Thought he was married” she answered.

“Yeah, but he’s always huntin. Good thing he’s Crossings problem. I’d ah fired him long ago if he was on our force. Not a team player. You watch out for the boy. He doesn’t like to take no for an answer. Specially not from single women.”

Albert Gummer met them at the door. “High sarge, mam” he said in greeting. “Victims where she died, not a pretty site. Names Annette Louise Granger. Works at Imperial Research as some kind of scientist. Haven’t called her husband yet.”

“Don’t, and that you got from her purse?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good man. Okay, you and the Doc go outside, we have some dirty work to do.”

Both men nodded in agreement, leaving before the two detectives entered. What they found was about what Thomas Bradly had told them. A massive circle of red and grey covered the West wall in a near perfect circle nearly four feet in diameter. Annette lay on a couch, her head facing East, a book laying on the floor next to lifeless hands. Most of the right side of her head was missing, as was everything that had been inside it. “What the hell makes that kind of wound” Grant asked, beginning to set up his camera.

“Ultra high velocity projectile, or a death ray” Elizabeth answered. She pulled out her flashlight, leaning over the couch’s back to peer into the empty skull. “There’s a small entry wound on the left side Thomas” she finally announced. Her face suddenly paled, turning slightly grey. “And Thomas? Her eyes are missing.”

“Most likely pulled out with her brain” another voice explained. “Connective tissue between the brain and eyes is fairly strong, and the sockets are thin in the back. Doctor Rose Morton, Imperial Research. I found the body.”

“Doctor of what” Thomas asked.

“Physics. I used to work with high energy particles, until they made me director of Imperial Research.”

“And you came here why?”

‘Doctor Granger took a weeks holiday. To, as she explained it, settle her personal life. When her husband did not hear from her three days in a row he called me, being as I am the only one who knew where she was. This being an Imperial retreat that is. So I drove up and found her like this. You’ll find my breakfast outside the back door.”