DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the characters from Crossing Jordan or Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: If you have any comments or preferences, please don’t be shy. RandR.
Woody Hoyt led the way through the door, the two uniforms right behind him. They spread out quickly and covered the front room of the apartment. The room was a mess, the sort created by the kind of violent altercation that the neighbors had reported. It was empty, but there were voices in the next room, one male and one female.
“Please, honey! You only get like this when you-”
“When I what?!” the male voice demanded. “You bring this on yourself, you stupid cow! With your whining and your nagging.” The sound of a fist hitting flesh spurred them on into the next room.
“Police! Freeze!” The lights in the small bedroom were out, but enough illumination spilled through from the front room and around the edges of the drapes that they could see the man, Harold Siler according to the neighbors that had reported the incident, holding his wife by the front of her blouse as he drew back his fist to strike her again. Siler’s eyes seemed unnaturally wide. His skin was flushed and his face contorted into an expression of abject rage. He barely looks human
, Woody thought as he trained his weapon on the man. Gotta be on something, PCP, maybe
. “Let her go and back away slowly,” Hoyt commanded. Siler didn’t seem inclined to cooperate. He looked at his already badly beaten wife.
“Look what you’ve done now!” he screamed. “Stupid cow!” Before Hoyt could again order him to let her go, Siler pulled her close, shifted his grip and without any apparent effort, snapped her neck with his bare hands.
None of the three hesitated. They immediately began firing.
“The preliminary tox screen is like nothing I’ve ever seen.” Macy shook his head. “I don’t know what this guy was on, but it wasn’t any conventional narcotic.”
“Designer drug?” Woody ventured, “or some combination?”
“Hard to say.” The chief medical examiner of the city of Boston closed the file and leaned back in his chair. “We’re still running tests.”
“Actually, you aren’t.” Both men looked up to see a stranger in a suit standing in t he door. “Agent Miller, DEA. I have orders to take the body of Harold Siler, any and all samples taken, and any test results generated. This is now a federal matter.”
“What?” Woody demanded, rising to his feet. “You can’t-”
“Actually, I can, and I am. The facts aren’t in dispute Detective Hoyt. The victim and the killer are dead. You don’t have a case to pursue. I do.”
“Calm down, Woody,” Garret spoke calmly. “I’m not terribly surprised by this.” He looked at Miller. “Is detective Hoyt right? Some new designer drug you’re worried about? If that’s the case, you should consider sharing information. The cops on the street and the ME’s office need to be aware if we are going to be seeing more of this.”
“I agree, Dr. Macy, but right now, what information we have is restricted.”
“So you don’t know what it is either,” Woody surmised, somewhat smugly.
“If we can find the source and stop it there, it won’t be your concern, detective. I’m sure that’s a goal you can support. Even if you can’t, I have my orders and so do you. I’ll need all of your reports on this incident by the end of the day. Your captain has already been notified.” With that, he took the toxicology report from Macy’s desk, turned and left.
“Well,” Garret Macy observed when the man was out of earshot. “He was more polite than most.”
Agent Miller pulled the truck into the small warehouse and parked just inside the doors, which were quickly closed.
“Any problems?” his contact asked.
“None. The fake credentials worked perfectly. No one questioned my right to the files or the body. Now, care to tell me why I went out on a limb like this? If my superiors find out that I was operating outside their authority, it could lead to trouble for all of us.”
“It had to be done. I don’t like this cloak and dagger stuff, but some secrets have to be kept. This is one of them.”
“Can you let me in on it? Given what I risked here, I think I’ve earned a little consideration.”
The other sighed and nodded. “You read the police reports and saw the crime scene photos? The body?” Miller nodded. “This happens every few years. Some poor shmuck stumbles on the formula or a variation of it. We can’t keep that from happening, but we can hide the evidence, from the public and from people like your superiors. Most think it’s just a story, but I first saw it actually made and used in high school. If it became common knowledge, we’d be seeing scenes like that a lot more often.”
“I don’t understand. More domestic violence? Even magic driven, it-”
“It’s not magic. It’s chemistry.”
“Stop beating around the bush, Harris. It’s never been your style before.”
“Sorry Graham. It’s just that, if more people knew it could be done more people would try, each one thinking that he would be the one to get it right. And I don’t want to think about what the military would do with it. Do you really want the general public to know that Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde wasn’t fiction?”