June 7^th, 2006

            Mud splashed over William King’s shoes as he stepped out of his car and began making his way towards the small, sad-looking house that was to be the starting point for his investigation. How can anyone possibly live like this? He wondered as he waddled awkwardly up the driveway, doing his best to tread in the least muddy spots. His efforts were to no avail, as flecks of dirt flew up and spotted the bottoms of his dress pants. Not for the first time, he resented the monkey suits that the Bureau made him wear. True, it was necessary to make good first impressions and maintain appearances, but for him it was only another annoyance in an already difficult job.

            He made his way through the last of the muck and quickly climbed the two steps onto a small, rickety porch flaked with white paint. He had to be careful where he stepped even here, as half the floor was made up of rotted wood that he was sure his foot would go right through. There were two officers leaning against the side of the house waiting for him, the younger of which gave a slight nod as he approached and held up a hand for him to shake.

            “You’re earlier than we were expecting. It’s Mister King, right?”

            “Agent King, actually,” he said, accepting the handshake. Good grief, he thought. “The witness is inside, I take it?”

            “We already talked to her,” the older officer nodded. “But this is about as open-and-shut as it gets. Animal attacks are common out here, especially for those who don’t take the proper precautions. To be honest, I don’t think it was worth the trouble for you to come out here in the first place, but certain… unseasoned individuals were insistent on it.” He shot an irritated glance at the younger officer.

            “Well, that may be true,” said King. “But three missing persons inside a week? Surely that should be cause for some alarm, even around here.”

            The officer paled. “How did you–”

            “Two missing persons is easy enough to cover up, but a gruesome case like this isn’t as easy to hide, isn’t that right? That’s why you’re so eager to chalk this up to an animal attack and it’s why you called me. The FBI will clear all this up so we can get back to drinking coffee and handing out speeding tickets to old ladies, does that about sum it up?”

            “Well, I… ah…” he spluttered.

            “Relax, pal. You did the right thing. You just let me handle this and I’ll be out of your hair in a few days. Now why don’t you two head back to the station and let your chief know I’m here? I’ll be right behind you in an hour.”

            The two officers walked back to their patrol car, the older one grumbling as he did so. Bet he’s going to go complain to the chief. Thing is, King had already gotten Chief Jackson’s clearance to conduct any investigation he wanted. The man had been an arrogant prick, with too much power and not enough life experience, but at least he’d stay out of King’s way. He noticed that there was a satisfied grin on the younger one’s face. Apparently, his superior didn’t get talked to like that very often. True, there was no real reason for King to be that aggressive, but he knew through personal experience that in towns like this, police tended to strut around like they owned all the ground they walked on. If you didn’t teach them otherwise right away, they’d act like they owned you too. Not the best conditions for when you’re trying to conduct an investigation.

            King knocked on the door. If it hadn’t been for the ring of police tape in the front yard, there wouldn’t be any indication that a man had been murdered here just three days prior. Funny how the most horrifying things tended to happen in the most ordinary of places. A few seconds later, the door opened a crack and young woman with dark, unkempt hair peeked out. He flashed his badge in the open space. “Agent King, ma’am, with the FBI. I just need to ask you a few questions.”

            The woman in the door looked down hesitantly. Clearly, she had been through everything with the police and had thought she was done. “I understand that this is a difficult time for you, but if you could just give me a few moments, it would really help me out a lot,” he said politely. Yeah, no shit it was a difficult time. King hated that contrived line with a passion, but it was what the Bureau made everyone say. The depressing part was that it usually worked.

            “Alright, come in,” the woman said, opening the door.

            He thanked her. “Becky, right?” he confirmed. “I’m very sorry for your loss.” Another artificial condolence. “Is there a good place we can sit down and chat?”

            She led him to a small sitting room with moth-eaten armchairs and a dark wooden coffee table sitting between them. He sat in the more worn chair out of politeness. “Listen, ma’am, I know you’re grieving right now, so I won’t take up too much of your time. I just need you to tell me everything you can remember about that night.”

            “I’ve already been through all of this with the police,” she said.

            “I understand, but I may be able to find things that the police couldn’t. If you’re willing to help me, I may be able to figure out what happened to your husband. Get you some closure.”

            “I thought they decided it was a wild animal attack.”

            “Maybe, maybe not. Let’s start with something simple. Did you see or hear anything out of the ordinary?”

            She shook her head. “I just heard him yell once. Then nothing. When I went out to check on him, he was gone. It was dark, so I didn’t see the hole that he dug. I tripped and fell in what I thought was water. It had rained the night before, you see. It wasn’t until I ran back inside to call 911 that I saw it was…” She started to cry. She didn’t need to finish the sentence; it was clear what had happened.

            It was blood. She had fell in a pool of her husband’s blood.

            “Why was he digging a hole in the middle of the night?” he asked.

            She started laughing through her tears. It came out as little hiccups. “It sounds so stupid now,” she said. “He was pulling a weed.”

            “A weed?”

            She nodded. It wasn’t the strangest story he had ever heard. Normally in a situation like this, he would suspect foul play, but oddly enough she seemed to be telling the truth. Most of it, anyway. There was something that still wasn’t adding up. If it was a wild animal, like the police suspected, then she definitely should have heard something. Especially as removed from civilization as they were. There was something she wasn’t saying. Either that, or there was more to this than there seemed.

            “Alright, ma’am, I think I have all I need. Do you mind if I just give the area a onceover before I go?”

            “Yeah, of course.”

            “Okay then.” He turned to leave. “Oh yes, and one more thing. If you happen to remember anything else, even if it seems minor, just give me a call.” He handed her an embossed card from his jacket pocket with his contact information on it. If you have something else to say to me, now would be the time, he thought.

            Just as he reached the door, he heard, “Wait!”

            Right on time.

            “There was one more thing, but…I was afraid you would think I was crazy. When I told the police, they just chalked it up to grief.”

            He gave her a sympathetic smile. “You’re not crazy. Tell me.”

            “Right after I heard my husband scream, I thought I also heard –” She hesitated, as though she was embarrassed. “I thought I heard a baby crying.”

            A baby? Really? That wasn’t what he had been expecting. Was this woman imagining things, or was there actually something deeper happening? Three missing persons in six days, an anonymous tip to bring him here, and now this. There was definitely something strange about this town, but for the first time in a long while, William King had no clue as to what.

***

            The hole was still there, a pit nearly four feet deep and one across. King squatted down to peer inside. Why would anyone go outside in the middle of the night for lawncare? It didn’t make any sense. He looked closer. There was something odd. The sides of the hole around the perimeter were flat and smooth, indicative of a shovel or a spade. Nothing uncommon there. Deeper down, though, the texture was rougher, as though he had abandoned the shovel and had been clawing through the dirt with his bare hands. Why? Could he have found something down there?

            King stood up. Whatever had happened, he wasn’t going to find any more answers standing here. He looked out into the woods. The police had searched them and found nothing. There would be a larger search party tonight, with civilians. Normally, he wouldn’t consider joining. After all, these woods went on for hundreds of miles, and realistically there wasn’t likely to be much of the body left anyway. This time, though, he might be able to find some answers. At the very least, things like this tend to provide some closure for the friends and family of the victim. He doubted he would be getting closure on this case anytime soon.