The Last File
The department intern reported there was no answer when she called to check on old lady Johnson in the house next door to the crime scene. Was the old lady the key to the whole thing? Gail Minez was for years the top detective in her division, but this one had her stumped. She had mulled over the crime scene photos, murder weapon and autopsy records for weeks now and came up with nothing. This was not something that was normal for Gail, her record had been impeccable and she wanted to keep things the way they were. Little did she know things were surely changing.
Cansonville was a small town by most standards and everyone knew everyone else and everyone knew your business, so, why were witnesses all but invisible in this case? There had to be someone who saw something or heard something that March afternoon. Snow was still on the ground, but there were no footprints anywhere around the house where 31-year-old Amy Sampson and her 5-year-old daughter Kitty were so brutally murdered. And it all seemed senseless. Nothing was taken and there seemed to be no signs of a struggle. Had the murderer or murderers cleaned up afterward?
Amy had come home early from the salon where she worked part time as a manicurist/stylist. That day was a full one, what with Mrs. Jillion and her beehive hairdo from some other era and the pedicure from hell, she needed a stiff one. Amy told Ricky, the salon owner, she had had it for the day and left to get some quiet time around 2pm. She wanted to go home and unwind before the bus brought Kitty home from kindergarten. As Amy drove away in her Honda Accord, she felt a cold chill come over her from what, she did not know, maybe just the cold March wind. Amy poured the last of her wine, she needed to get more, but, it was time for Kitty’s bus and she would not be able to make it to the store and back in time. As the bus pulled up, Amy was excited to see what Kitty had done in school that day, she had been having a hard time in her speech classes, but, the teacher, Mrs. Allen had been taking up a little extra time with her and she had been making progress lately. Kitty was born with a lisp and Amy was afraid it would impair her socially and that was one other thing Kitty did not need in her young life. Kitty’s father Dan had walked out when Kitty was only 7 months old and in a town so small people were surely talking.
“How was school today, sweetheart?” Amy asked Kitty as she walked in the door. Kitty did not answer, she had an undecipherable look on her face and that was when Amy noticed a large figure come in behind, too close to Kitty. Kitty looked frightened. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?” screamed Amy. The man never uttered a word he only reached from behind Kitty and almost like butter, slit her tender little throat and slammed the door behind him. Amy was petrified as she ran to the bleeding mass on the floor that used to be her sweet little Kitty. “Get up, you’re going with me.” The stranger grabbed Amy away from Kitty’s dying body and dragged her down the hallway to the bathroom. “You are going to clean up that mess in the kitchen”, the stranger said, “and then, we are going to have a little talk you and me.” Afraid that she would be the next one to die, Amy mournfully picked up Kitty’s body and took it to the basement as she was instructed, laid her only child in a corner and covered her with a blanket, then, she cleaned up the rest of the “mess” in the kitchen while the stranger looked on, ever threatening her with the same as her baby girl just got.
“I’m going over there.” Gail told Chief Golden as she checked her revolver and got her coat from the coat rack. “You be careful and call for back up if you need it!” the chief said as Gail left the station.
