crap. That’s nice to know.” Sage’s mind shifted into a quicker mode and began to race. “Hey, Parker, you ever saw the tattoo for Veni, Vidi, Vici?”
“I have seen many…but my favorite tat is the tramp stamp,” teased Parker.
Changing the topic back to the subject at hand, Sage said, “Okay…anyway…there is one that has three Vs in it.”
“Yeah, seen it.”
“What if we were to turn it upside down?” asked Sage.
Parker quickly hammered out some keystrokes. Sage listened to the tactile clicking through the phone.
“Okay, got an image. Flipping it…”
Sage asked, “You see it?”
“Yeah, three of the apex symbols, but no fang.”
“And if we stack them?” Sage asked, waiting for Parker to catch up to his thought process.
“Kind of looks like sergeant stripes.”
“Yup.”
“So?” asked Parker.
“What if these guys were the progenitors of the military system? How often do we see chevrons on uniforms and on”—he paused—“well, everything?”
“Wow, good point. The chevrons are everywhere: billboards, advertisements, patterns, military uniforms, and cops,” said Parker.
“Speaking of cops, I need to reach out to Detective Johnson,” said Sage, remembering a forgotten task.
“I wouldn’t mention your new benefactor,” Parker’s tone of voice sounded like a whisper, but Sage understood that there was gravity in what Parker had mentioned.
“Of course not. Thanks for everything, bro,” said Sage. He fished out the skin and laid it on some paper towels. Picking up the bowl that had been utilized for the skin project, he sniffed it and made a face of disgust. He dumped the water down the drain and gently dropped the bowl in the garbage.
“Watch your back. Someone else might be as well.” Parker hung up and glided backward in his chair. A few seconds later, his phone rang. He scooted forward to answer the phone.
“Did you make the transfer?” asked Parker. His tone indicated that he was more demanding than asking. Parker continued, “Time is running out—as is my patience. You know there are other buyers. I am holding this because you did me a solid, but business is business.” Parker hung up and dialed a number on his phone. Parker’s demeanor changed to flirtatious. “Sup, baby?” he said. Parker flirted with the lady on the phone as he sorted through a few parcels. He picked up one that had labels from a camera company and opened it.
Chapter 18
In downtown Phoenix, the night remained warm even after the sun had set. The vast quantities of cement and concrete held on to the day’s heat like a cast-iron skillet. In a parking garage near the upscale local nightclub scene, an attractive young lady was utilizing an app on her phone to record a video message to her friends. She had been out partying into the late hours and was bragging about a gentleman that she met that night. She was in a short, tight leather skirt and five-inch stiletto heels. Her brunette hair, somewhat disheveled from dancing, played with the smooth skin on her shoulders. She was high off of the night’s activities and seemed to be fending off a hint of intoxication. Though she had been drinking, she was not drunk. She strolled through a moderately lighted area to her vehicle and showed no concern about the lack of light. This was a familiar journey that she had made dozens of times in search of a beau. As she walked to her car, she reached into her purse to grab her phone. Now with the phone in hand, she put her smartphone to her face and activated a communication app so that she could use the camera as a mirror to adjust her hair. Once her hair was a perfected mane and her primping was complete, she hit record on the app on her smartphone. She smiled widely; there was a bit of arrogance in her expression.
“Girl, I know you think I am drunk…but I am not. I am buzzed though,” she giggled as she walked.
As she arrived at her car, she fumbled with her free hand in an attempt to search her purse for keys. As she located and grasped the car keys, she was overcome with the necessity to scratch her inner ear. The need was intense enough that she dropped her keys back into the purse to free her hand. She inserted her finger into her ear and wiggled it, being careful not to injure her eardrum with her lengthy, well-manicured nails. After a few seconds, the itching subsided. She shivered in a fashion similar to the way one would after an arm hair stimulating sneeze.
Now that her arm hair had returned to its former position, she again began to focus on the phone. As she looked back up and into the phone, there was the briefest flash of two eyes, red eyes. Being that she had partaken in the drink, she paid them no mind. There was a struggle; the sound of a purse thudding on the ground gently echoed through the garage. This was followed by the cacophony of keys and a phone crashing to the warm cement.
Chapter 19
It was morning, and the Phoenix sun made its appearance from behind the thick cement pillars of the parking garage. The surface of the garage was still warm from the previous day and heated quickly. Several police officers, medical staff, and forensic investigators stood in disarray and were investigating the scene. Some of them were trying to gather evidence, and a few were taking photographs. There were flashes of light from the cameras that competed with the morning sun.
The usual crime scene vehicles filled the garage and lined the street just outside the garage. The officials, investigators, and techs were having conversations. On the ground lay a body carefully covered with a blanket. As the discussions and inspections continued, Johnson exited his vehicle, straightened his clothing, and made a beeline for the victim’s body.
Amid the murmur of questions, theories, and suspicions, Johnson squatted by the body. His slacks tightened at his thighs and knees. He did a duck walk to position himself by the body near the rear driver’s side of the woman’s vehicle. Johnson stared at the woman’s body and pondered the last moments of the woman’s life. This scene bothered him more than most that he had investigated, and he struggled to understand why it had such an effect on him. While rooted in thought, his balance was nearly lost. He planted a hand to steady his body. The act lowered his center of gravity and adjusted his viewpoint. He caught himself before falling, and the lower angle allowed him to spot some small pieces of shattered plastic on the ground. He picked up a bit of the plastic for closer inspection. It was a small piece of a phone case. He reached into his pocket to retrieve a rubber glove.
As he pulled out the rubber glove to pick up the particles, he nearly lost his balance again. As he steadied himself, he looked to his right and spotted the victim’s phone; it had fallen and bounced underneath her vehicle. As he glanced around to see if anyone was watching him, he quickly placed the plastic pieces in an evidence bag and slowly sealed it. After he was confident that no one was watching him, he discreetly reached for the woman’s phone. He looked around to see if anyone had seen him. No one. Good, he thought and pocketed the phone.
Chapter 20
The woman’s body had been laid on a table in the coroner’s office and was finally in a sterile environment. The smells of embalming fluid, cleaning solution, and tuna permeated the air. Her body was covered up to the neck with a pristine white sheet. There was a small trickle of blood that dripped ever so slowly from the back of her neck onto the coroner’s table. The dripping created a soft metallic sound as it fell onto the cold, shiny stainless steel.
The coroner seemed young for his position; he was in his midthirties and had begun to become a bit numb to the process. He had just received the victim’s body and had not started much in the way of the autopsy process. He turned the woman’s neck gently to one side and lifted her hair. Some of her hair evaded his grasp, and the once-brilliant brunette locks fell less than gracefully to the metal table. He leaned in to get a closer perspective at the puncture wound at the base of her