The Broken Heart Curse
The Broken Heart Curse
W ith his hands on his hips and a perplexed expression on his face, Detective James Jackson stands in the living room of Wendy and Henry Stiles trying to figure out what to make of the unusual drawing. After brutally killing two people, instead of fleeing the house, the murderer or murderers took time to draw hearts on the white carpet. And these hearts don't mean love.
No, these hearts have a zigzag line though the middle signifying a broken heart. It is one of the strangest things he has ever seen in the forty plus years he has worked in law enforcement. Shaking his head at the sickness of the bloody scene, he looks up from the floor to his new team of young officers: Kelsey Green, Tammy Gears, Daniel Bullock, Jack Tanner, and Rich Hutton. They were huddle in a group near the stairs whispering in hushed voices. And from the looks on their faces, he could see they are afraid.
Who wouldn't be frightened by what was going on upstairs in the master bedroom? In all his years of being at murder scenes this one was by far the worst. "Okay, guys, it's time to get to work. I'm going outside to see if the lab is finish with the preliminary tests on the blood. While I'm gone, Kelsey and Tammy I want you to video the kitchen and basement. After you are finishing filming the inside then I want you to go outside and get some footage of the property.
Rich and Daniel go dust the kitchen and then do the basement. Make sure you do all the windows and doors. Jack, when the finger printing is done take pictures of everything those guys filmed and printed. I want lots of shots of those bloody hearts on the carpet. And when I get back, all of us will go upstairs to process the master bedroom."
Once out in the cold November night air Jackson takes matches and a cigarette out of his shirt pocket and lit it. Takes a deep drag and blows out the smoke. His wife, Trina is going to kill him when she finds out he's smoking again. At crime scenes and nights like this, he needs something to calm his nerves. One or two cigarette won't kill him. Officer Sloan opens the gate for him. As he, pass by the young officer he says, "Dr. Whittle's and his team should be here soon. You can let them in but tell Whittles to wait for me before doing any work."
"Okay, Detective," Sloan answers while closing the gate. Across the street in front of the house, one of those new labs floats above the curve. It looks like big bubbles floating in the air. He is not impressed with the design and likes the old, square ones better. At the bubble window, he throws the cigarette butt on the ground before knocking on it.
The head lab technician, Noel Spencer turns towards window. There was a time when he would have just walked into the lab but last year the state passed a law forbidding non-lab staff from entering the bubble, he meant lab or whatever they call this thing.
Their decision annoyed him for several reasons. The most important is he has to wait longer for results. And now he has to stand outside in the cold. He hates being out in the cold. He pulls the collar of his coat up and waits while Noel ignores him and continues his conversation with an attractive young lady, name Monica Steadman. Monica shakes her head and points to something on a piece of paper. After several minutes, Jackson puts another cigarette in his mouth, lit it, and then knocks again. Finally, the two look up at him and then Noel, who is smiling, holds up his hand asking him again to wait.
That bastard is enjoying his new position of power , he thinks ramming his fists into his coat pockets. He wants the lab results now so he could call Judge Cameron Watson, who is the only Judge, Cameron's also his friend, he knows who will issue a warrant for him at this time of night. His gut instinct tells him that none of the blood