Lieutenant Woods —

“Woody… What the bloody hell took you so long to get here?”

“Nothing, nothing at all.”

“You sure, mate? You look like you got run over by a truck. Hold on—did you go out drinking before this? Without me?!”

“Frankie, just tell me what I am looking at.”

“I can tell you for sure—a fucking mess, that’s for certain.”

I rubbed my head as I tried to focus on the scene. Cold air, a long walk, and a noisy city backdrop with nothing but blaring honking and lights really can get a person relatively sober fast. At least fast enough to get back on the horse to where you are and what you are doing there.

“Can’t believe you went to drink without me. It better not have been over at Cross.”

A good friend of mine and one hell of a drinker—Frank Delaney. He’s been in law enforcement as long as I have, ever since we both came out of Forest Creek. He ended up being the city’s lead department investigator, while I somehow managed to land the position of Lieutenant.

I suppose you could write us off as doing pretty well. Well enough, at least.

“No one else is going to pull up now, are they?” Frank asked curiously.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, don’t bullshit me—the woman. The boys said you talked to some looker at Goldie’s Den the other night. At least some of us are making some headway in the women’s department, am I right?”

“Hah-hah, real funny.”

Frank hasn’t had the best luck with women since his wife’s passing. It remains a mystery how he managed to get anyone to agree to marry him in the first place. I must admit, she was nice during the few times I met her. As for me, I can’t really say the same about myself.

“First of all, it’s not like that…”

“Spill it!” Frank chimed. He wasn’t going to drop it.

“Alright, since it’s you and you’re asking. She’s a vampire.”

“A bloody vampire?! The balls on you, mate. That’s, that’s something crazy. I could never... Maybe. I don’t know—how’s the sex?”

“She’s my kid…”

“…” For once, Frank was silent. These are very rare moments. Ones you must savor for what they are, as they come even rarer than the times you come face to face with a four-leaf clover.

“J-just a second. You…hold on, you… When did that happen?”

“Let’s drop it, yeah. There is no need to discuss it, given we are on the job. Focus on what’s in front of us.”

“No way! You’re going to have to tell me this one. We’ve known each other for years, mate.”

There really wasn’t much to talk about, even if I could tell him. One stupid night, I drank too much. Had a lovely time with a nice girl. Messed it up real good. One thing led to another. Fast forward a few more years, and the news is dropped there on my lap, with a kid who is all grown up and a private detective at that—making her own money, making her own choices, and living her own life.

The kicker is, I doubted it at first. Me—a father, ain’t no way. That didn’t turn out too well. When a kid got her mother’s looks and her father’s attitude, well. I stood there corrected. 

Sometimes, she is all frowns and serious, but that comes with focus—something that comes and goes at my age. My talent now is nothing more than finding that perfect balance to black out at the bar.

“Look, Frankie, it’s really nothing. Just drop it, okay.”

“…Alright, big man. If you say so…”

Frankie’s words left me to ponder for a moment in silence. I hated to be alone in my sober thoughts. It leaves you thinking too damn much at times. Times when your focus needs to be elsewhere. 

“This?”

“Yeah…”

The body at the scene was already in a bag for forensics to handle. It was a child who had gone missing a few days back. One of seven this month alone. Unlike the other victims, this one had turned up out of the blue for no reason at all. This was something big thanks to some neighbors, their dog, and a random late-night Thursday walk in a park.

“The security cameras—did they pick up anything?”

“Nothing,” Frankie answered. “We check CCTV across the street as well. It’s as if he just popped up here out of the blue.”

“So, no witnesses, huh?”

“Yup, no fingerprints either,” Frankie answered.

“What about the nanny?”

“Still missing.”

“Hmmm, that’s not good.”

“What about the folks who called it in? Were they really just out on a late night stroll or…”

“They will be brought in and questioned further, but their stories align with each other and the evidence we’ve pulled.” 

How interesting. 

“The Piper, huh?” I mumbled under my breath. I was initially skeptical when Siri mentioned the possibility, but here I was thinking about it. The more I thought about it, the more it lined up. Too much, in fact. “Frankie, move aside. Let me take a look for a second.”

“Well, pardon me. And here I was wondering what I was doing here…”

“Moral support, I guess,” I shot jokingly. 

Flashing my light over the victim’s body, I took notes. He was beaten and bruised from all angles and torn up really good, too. Deep marks from claws down to the bone. The clothes, or I guess what was left of it, were in shambles. Even so, I managed to figure out that they were pajamas.

As I leaned closer, the smell left me a little uneasy. I can’t be picky. It’s a case, and right now, finding any clues to help me out was the most essential part. It’s never easy, and it never gets easier. It had been three days since the initial search for him. Three days since, the victim’s family was turning this city upside down to find him. Three days, where I signed it off as just another missing child gone to the wind.

There is a lurking rumor circulating amongst the citizens of Hallow Grove City. It's a legend or a fable, depending on who you ask. I suppose it’s the best way to describe it since there is no real logical way other than that. They say if you are bad, a child who doesn’t listen to their parents, it is because they are lost only to be found by the sweet songs of a flute. It scoops you right up, carrying you away to the one they call the Piper. For he is the only one they seem to listen to.

There was a series of incidents a few years back, similar in all aspects, but they caught the culprit. He had filed down his fingerprints. Crazy freak. They ended up finding the children, well, most of them anyway.

He ended up killing himself in lock-up.

I suppose it seems we have a copycat killer on our hands.

“Yo Woods, you see that?”

Lost in my thoughts, Frank’s words snapped me back to the work ahead of me. He hovered his light just enough for me to see what he was trying to point out.

Around the victim’s neck was a set of markings. Were they hung? Strangled? No. It was strange, given the child’s age. I doubt they could put up much of a physical fight to defend themselves if it came down to force. So, in the best case, it must have been for restraints. But why? For torture?  

The sight left me to examine what remained of their wrists and ankles in hopes of writing it off as such, but nothing.

Turning my focus back, I studied the marking again. It wasn’t done from a rope or a chain; given its thinness, it couldn’t be a collar.

“Frankie, hold my light.”

“Oi, you don’t got to do all that.”

“Just hold the light!”

I could hear Frankie curse under his breath as he did as I asked.

Leaning in to get a closer look, I started to take pictures. The area around the victim’s neck—the marks… were contrived of smaller symbols. 

“What do you make of this?”

“I can’t say for sure. I will need to ask around.”

“Really? You got friends to be asking?”

“Shut up! You’re one to talk. Just send them to me, okay. But off of first impressions, these look like—”

Just as Frankie was about to supply me with something, I heard yelling and screaming in the background. The area had been taped off, but it didn’t stop a single woman from shoving one of the deputies to the side. 

“NO, NO NO NO NO! MOVE. MOOOOOVVE!!!”

Tears were already streaming down her face as she rushed over. None of the deputies in sight gave any real effort to halt the woman as other individuals who accompanied her stepped into the light, leaving them to step back.

“Everyone stand down. And step aside,” I said, ushering the order.

There was immediate tension in the air. I could taste it in the cinnamon ale that was still rumbling in my stomach.

“Mrs. Winters…”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! Don’t you dare fucking touch me! Gianni, if anyone dares, chop their fucking balls off and feed it to them! Don’t worry, baby, it’s me, your mommy. I am here now. *sniffle.* Don’t you worry, baby! I am here!”

Winslet Winters. The mother of the victim—Luca Winters. Seven years old. The only victim of the recent disappearances to be found. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out how important this is, yet…

“I am sorry for your loss, Mrs Winters.”

My offering of condolences fell on deaf ears as she wailed and cried, taking the victims—her son’s body into her arms. She was grieving, but she was also contaminating the evidence. It was essential, given the circumstances, that that didn’t happen. But I doubt anyone was going to stop her, including myself.

For starters, the Winters Family practically ran the city. Half the very cops on the force right now and in the field with me sat in their back pockets. I may not be on that list, but I also do not wish to be in the crosshairs, especially one of a grieving mother. She might order a kill on me right here, but finding the culprit is something I believe she would forgive my indiscretion for.

“Mrs, Mrs. Winters…”

Before I knew it, one of her lackeys that were present brought a sharp blade to my neck. One shift is all that is needed for it to cut an artery that would leave me bleeding out and lying in a ditch somewhere.

“Maybe you’re hard of hearing, or are your eyes going? The Boss wants some time to grieve. She did say to chop anyone’s balls off and feed them to them. I will take that with pleasure.”

“Yes, I heard her loud and clear, but…time is of the essence. We need to work fast to find the culprit. That means me and my guys looking into this and searching for clues. I don’t have to tell you twice how rare this opportunity may be, given that this might be the only potential lead where The Piper dropped the ball.”

“Y-you think it was the Piper?!” Winslet questioned with tears in her eyes.

“Yes, Yes I do,” I answered. “All the signs point to it.”

“…*Sniffle.* Let him go, Gianni.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“You! What’s your name?”

“Lieutenant Woods.”

“Ahhhh, yeah…” She eyed me up and down for a long moment. “I have heard of you. You’re one of the good little boys. How interesting. “Hmmm, okay, Lieutenant. Youse get a day, you hear me? Do your little investigation, but after that, I want my boy. You can understand why, right?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Another one of her lackeys came over to offer their assistance to help her up, but she swatted them away. She glanced around as if observing the faces of each person present with me.

“Don’t forget who I am. Mind you, whatever you find, I will know. So don’t be a stranger now.”

“I would never.”

Winslet turned to her men standing around. With a simple wave of her finger, they followed her as she clutched herself in her arms to walk away.

Frankie, clearly speechless during the ordeal, finally found some wind in his sails to speak again. Who would have thought lightning would strike twice in the same night? 

“Heh, surprised you didn’t wet yourself.”

“Did you?” I asked.

“Maybe a little. I mean, that is Winslet Winters we are talking about. And now she went and put a face to a name. That ain’t good, mate. You’re on her list.”

“Yeah, I suppose…” I said before pausing for a moment. “Did you notice something off about her?”

“She’s a grieving woman? You expect her to act sane?”

“No, that’s not it. It’s just the way her body…”

“Oh, I know what you mean, it’s tight. If I had an hour with her, granted she is definitely from the looney bin, but if she gave me the time of the day, I mean—”

“Frankie, I am being serious. The moment she had held her son in her arms—the tears in her eyes…they just slowed. She wasn’t sad but more in pain. Angry.”

I knew anger. I see it all too well whenever I look at myself in the mirror and see my mistakes. I also see it in Siri when she talks about getting her revenge.

“I don’t know, mate.” Frankie offered. “But ummm, if you’re done, I would like to get back to what I was doing.”

“What you were doing?”

“Yes, I am a busy man with a busy schedule.”

“Come off it,” I said.

Whether he believes me or not, I know what I saw. There was something different. There was an ever-so-small shift in her demeanor at that moment when she looked over her child’s body. Maybe I am making it up, but I can’t help but shake it off. She knows something.