CHAPTER SIX HUNDRED and FIFTY-EIGHT
“It’s odd,” Leslie said. “I was just wondering what the crime scene photos show.”
“There was a body in the closet,” Fran said.
“Looks like a self-inflicted shot,” Bob said, scanning the walls and floor.
“Right,” Leslie said. “But look over here.”
Leslie pointed to the corner of the closet. There was crayon writing on the wall as well as a dried puddle of blood.
“Were there any children in this ‘action’?” Leslie asked. She turned to Ava. “That’s the word we’re using? Action?”
“I guess so,” Ava said with a shrug.
“No, Leslie,” Fran said. “Four adult bodies including one self-inflicted gunshot in the closet.”
“They note the blood and crayon but it looked older when they got here,” Ferguson’s young male technician said. “I’m Luther, by the way. Luther Gundy.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ava said. “I’m Ava. I had your job for a while.”
The young man gave her an embarrassed nod.
“The blond lady is Leslie,” Ferguson said. “Fran’s standing next to you. The pain in the ass is Doctor Robert Parrish.”
“Bob,” he said from the closet.
“You met Jake and Delphie,” Ferguson said. “Now that we all know each other’s names. . . Robert?”
“I agree with the original report,” Bob said. “This blood is older. There’s not enough of it for the wound to be critical. It’s distinct from this larger pool of blood. I think we should take samples of both. Photos everywhere.”
“You got anything for me?” Ferguson asked.
Jacob shook his head.
“The ghosts that are here don’t know anything about the man killing himself,” Jacob said.
“I think that they were dead before he shot himself,” Delphie said.
“Do the ghosts know the shooter?” Ferguson asked.
Jacob looked at three distinct spots in the room.
“No,” Jacob said. “They came over to party with the other ghost. They’d been friends since elementary school. They got together once a month or so and partied — pot, alcohol, music, dancing, talking all night. Nothing crazy.”
“This one,” Delphie pointed to the air. “He says that he heard that there was a party here. He didn’t know anyone here. He came from Aurora. Wanted to score some weed.”
“You know, son,” Delphie said. “We don’t know your name. You were unidentified by the police.”
They silently watched Delphie listen to the air for a long moment.
“Huh,” Delphie said.
Delphie looked up and realized that everyone was looking at her. Delphie blushed.
“What did you learn?” Ferguson asked.
“Oh, yes, sorry,” Delphie said. “I forget that not everyone can hear. Um. He told me his name, which I will give you; and his address. The other two ghosts are friends of the woman who invited everyone. They said that the rest of their friends ran out. That’s their last memory — their friends deserting them in their deaths.”
“Terrible,” Ava said. “They clearly didn’t come forward to identify people either.”
Denver Cereal continues tomorrow...
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