Chocolate and a Crime Scene

"Another piece of chocolate cake!?" Alex roared as he walked on scene flicking the crime scene tape with his left hand.

"What is with this guy?" I somberly replied. It didn’t bother me quite as much as it did Alex, but we were in different places in our careers. I just wanted to know why and help the victim’s family reach some sort of closure. Alex was nearing retirement and just irritated to have to come to the scene.

He grumbled something about never eating chocolate cake again and walked over to the uniformed officer's setting up the crime scene. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about so I turned to the others to discuss the case.

“Okay. So here’s what we know so far. The murderer sneaks into the house before the victim gets home from work. He romantically sets the table with a single slice of chocolate cake: candles, roses, the works. When the victim comes in, it seems as though they’re shocked but curious about the setup. I imagine they’re wondering if their significant other is responsible. While immovable and in shock, the murderer bludgeons them from behind.”

“At least their last thoughts were probably good ones. Thinking their partners went out of their way to do something nice.” I heard Alex say as he walked up to join in on our little powwow.

“Wow!,” I thought to myself, “He does have a heart.”

“How is he picking his victims?” “Do we know for sure he’s a male?” “Is there a pattern with the victims?” Several officers posed too many questions at once.

“Settle down! Settle down! Give Jennifer some room.” Alex jumped in, saying my name in just the right way it sounds condescending. Always too eager to come to my rescue and all too happy to belittle me at the same time.

“I’ve got it Alex. Really. It’s okay.” I replied as I tried not to roll my eyes. “I’m not a damsel in distress. Oh, and Alex? Detective Lake, please.” And I turned back to the crowd to answer the questions I heard clearly.

“We aren’t sure how he chooses his victims, but there is a pattern. They are all successful, blonde females in authoritative roles. A judge, a teacher, a doctor, and now a dentist. And yes, we do know he is a male as we found very small traces of bodily fluids on the last victim’s abdomen. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to get DNA from.”

I answered as many questions as I could at the crime scene and started walking to my car to start back to the precinct. As I walked passed the gardener, I couldn’t help but feel like he was staring at me. But not really at me, more like through me. There was something uneasy about his stare. It made me feel extremely uncomfortable. Unfortunately, since my partner is Alex, I couldn’t possibly share with him that he made me “feel” something. He would think I was being ridiculous. So I let it go… or, well, I tried. Instead, I asked the officer on scene to do a field interview with him.

As I pulled into the parking lot, I saw Alex waiting for me. Tapping his foot with his arms crossed as though I was a child waiting to be disciplined. I barely even had a chance to get out of the car before he was scolding me about bothering the gardener. Apparently the gardener is his cousin’s boyfriend so I should, “just give him a break.” I scoffed as I brushed past him into the precinct.

I needed an antacid. Was it the way Alex treated me about the gardener? Or was it really this feeling I’ve been trying to figure out since I walked onto the crime scene? It was something about the table setup in the last crime scene. There was something so familiar about it all. But from where?

As I loaded up my car to head home for the day, I noticed that Alex was gone already. I asked the garage attendant and she said he’d left about an hour before. I thought this was strange as he usually works late. I brushed off the inexplicable anxiety I was feeling and started to drive home.

I called my boyfriend Jimmy to tell him about all of the different feelings and signs that I felt like I saw today. He is always a good sport and plays along, but I could tell he was tired and wasn’t interested. He was in Toronto on travel. So I gave him my love and ended the conversation as I drove into my driveway.

The smell hit me as soon as I walked in but I couldn’t put my finger on it. As soon as I saw the table setup with a piece of chocolate cake I realized why it looked so familiar. 5 years ago, Alex reluctantly invited me to dinner. His wife insisted. They used the same type of tablecloth and candle holder. I don’t know how I missed it for so long.

As I started to turn around I felt a sharp pain to the back of my head and my vision went blurry. I tried to scream, “Ale…”

But it was too late. Alex and the gardener finished the job with one subsequent blow each.