Ghosts From the Past Ch. 1

Caz woke suddenly, sitting straight up in his bed. He reached up, wiping sweat from his forehead. Another nightmare, which was already fading from his mind. At one point in his life, these were a common occurrence. Now though, he couldn’t remember the last time he had one. He reached over and grabbed his phone to check the time. ‘03:23’ showed on the screen. Well, it’s not like I’m going to be able to fall back to sleep thought Caz. He swung his legs out of the blankets and over the bed and stood up. He pulled on some sweats and a t-shirt and walked over to start a pot of coffee. As the coffee pot made its ritual noises while warming up, Caz began his daily workout. He started off by stretching and waking up his muscles, jump rope, push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, then more stretching. He ended by taking 5 complete cycles of controlled breathing.

By the time Caz finished, the coffee was done brewing. He poured a mug and threw two pieces of bread into the toaster. 2 minutes, and half a mug later the bread popped back up. He spread some butter over the pieces and sat down in one of the two chairs at his small table in the corner of his kitchen. As he finished both his coffee and toast, his phone vibrated and made a ding-ding sound. It had a notification of ‘1 new message’ on the screen. He opened the text, it was from Captain Brink.

I need you to come to the Evergreen Apartments on 178th, we’ll be in unit 213. You have a new case.

Caz grabbed his blue toothbrush from its place next to the violet one and jumped in the shower. Faster to brush his teeth and shower at the same time. He showered quickly and then threw on his suit. He locked his apartment door on the way out and headed to the address the Captain had text him. A woman’s voice came through the car speakers, reporting about the recent climb of criminal activity in the city.

Daytime burglaries continue to rise in residential areas as it looks as if the increasing trend of crime in the city we’ve seen these last 6 months will continue. Just last night, the latest in a string of violent muggings was investigated by police— Caz clicked off the radio.

As he pulled into the apartment complex’s parking lot he was greeted by a myriad of flashing red and blue lights on the top of 6 patrol vehicles. The building had once been painted dark green. Now the paint was faded and peeling, and it appeared much more gray than the ‘evergreen’ of its name. There were officers in uniforms taking statements from worried and cold looking tenants, who were woken up in the early morning by the police arriving.

Caz walked up to the nearest officer, K. Jacobsen according to his name plate, and asked where he could find the Captain. Officer Jacobsen pointed to the second level of apartments to an open door.

“He’s up at the scene now,” the officer said.

Caz thanked him and made his way to the stone steps leading up to the second level. The metal handrail pushed outward, leaning at a slight angle as he put his hand on it. He rounded the corner at the top and walked down to number 213. He walked through the door, seeing the room had been torn apart. There was a body lying face down in the living room, near a coffee table which had obviously been knocked askew and was now standing at an almost 45 degree angle to a couch. A crime scene tech was taking pictures of the scene.

“How does it look Katie,” Caz asked, noting the 3 bloody holes in the shirt covering the body’s back. The thin carpet had done a poor job soaking up the blood which was now pooling around the upper body. The outer edges were starting to dry, making a rusty, brownish crust on the fibers.

“Victim is Jackson Montgomery,” Katie, the scene tech, answered. “We found a wallet with his ID, no money or credit cards left in it.” Katie was in her mid-twenties. She was short with dark eyes and long dark hair, which was currently pulled into a tight bun. She was well liked at the department and was known for being friendly and incredibly smart. She was also known for being very protective of her friends. Say a bad word about them around her and she was likely to drop whatever she was doing to kick your ass.

“He was shot 3 times in the back with a small caliber firearm,” Katie continued. “9mm according to the casings. Those knocked him down but didn’t kill him. After he was on the ground, someone slit his throat.” Katie bent down rolling the head and one shoulder back to show Caz a deep gash going across Jackson’s neck. His face stirred Caz’s memory, but he could not pinpoint why. Faces have a way of changing after the life has been drained out of them. “The cut was deep and hit an artery. I don’t think he lasted very long after that,” Katie finished.

Captain Brink came down the narrow hallway. He was a wall of a man. Tall with wide shoulders. He kept his hair, which was once black but now had white creeping up the sides, cut short and neat.

“Good, you’re here,” Captain Brink said noticing Caz. “Victim is a 32 year old local drug addict. He’s lived at the Evergreen for the last 3 years. He works at the gas station down on the corner, had a shift last night which ended at about 1:00 this morning,” he had stopped on the opposite side of the body from Caz. “This looks pretty cut and dry. A local addict who owed his dealer some money. I’m thinking he was used as a warning for anyone else who’s in their debt. I have some uniforms out looking for his dealer now.”

“Thank you, sir,” Caz said. “I am going to walk the scene for a bit and then go check out the gas station. Maybe his co-workers have some more information.”

“Sounds good. Come to my office when you get back to the station,” Captain Brink said, striding past Caz and out the front door.

“Did he forget he was promoted?” Katie asked, once the Captain had left.

Caz was looking around the room, trying to take in the whole scene. “He did this job for a long time. I think it will take a while until he learns to take a step back.” Caz answered.

“I guess. I just don’t like a lot of brass breathing down my neck as I work,” Katie said, going back to taking pictures of the room.

Caz walked around the living room. He noted the three 9mm casings on the ground on the other side of the crooked coffee table. There was very little to this room. A small flat screen TV was stood on the floor in front of the couch and table. It was turned off. He went into the small kitchenette. The sink was piled with dirty dishes. There was a full garbage bag leaned against a wall, spilling some of its contents onto the ground. He opened the fridge, 2 unopened bottles of generic beer and a mostly eaten, dried out pizza sitting in a grease-stained box were all that was inside.

Caz made his way down the hall to the bathroom. It had a sink with a leaking faucet, a toilet, and a stand-up shower, which was also leaking. A thin towel with 1 large hole and fraying edges hung from a metal piece which might have been part of a towel rack at some point.

Next to the bathroom was the bedroom. There was a mattress on top of a box spring on the ground at the back wall with a nightstand next to it. On the nightstand were 3 clear, orange bottles containing various pills inside. The labels had been ripped off. Next to the bottles was an empty tissue box, a crusty lotion bottle, and a small stack of Party Girlz magazine.

“High class reading material,” Katie entered the room, seeing the magazines on the desk. “Looks like he was a real intellectual.”

“Hmm?” toned Caz, “Oh yes, I am sure he only read them for the articles.”

Katie chuckled, snapping some photos around the room. “Well, I think that about wraps it up for me,” she said. “The transport team is loading the body up now. Do you need anything else?”

“No,” Caz answered. “But could you send me the pictures once you get back to the office? I would like to go over them later.”

“Of course. I’ll copy them onto an SD card and leave it at your desk.” Katie answered, letting her camera hang down in front of her. She turned and walked out of the room.

Caz stood there in silence for a few moments longer. “I guess I should head down to his work now,” he said to no one in particular. He left the apartment, walking down the stairs with the wobbly handrail. He stopped to ask Officer Jacobsen to collect all the statements and drop them by his desk. Then he got in his car and drove to the gas station where Jackson Montgomery worked, which was only a few blocks away.

He pulled his car into a corner spot in the parking lot. He stepped out his door and into a deceptively deep puddle. He walked through the automatic doors, shaking his foot in a vain attempt to dry his shoe and pant-leg.

“Welcome,” came a bored voice from behind the counter. The young woman the voice belonged to was leaning back onto a wall of cigarette boxes on shelves, reading an entertainment magazine.

“Excuse me,” Caz got her attention. “Did you relieve the night shift clerk, Jackson Montgomery, this morning?”

“Monty?” She asked. “Yeah, I took over for him early this morning. If you’re looking for him, he’ll be in tonight for his next shift.” She looked back down at her magazine.

“Did he happen to say if there were any unusual occurrences during his shift before he left?” Caz asked.

“He works the night shift at a 24-hour gas station in a crappy neighborhood dude. Unusual occurrences are the usual.” She answered without looking up.

“I would appreciate it if you would think hard. I am afraid it is important.” Caz said. The girl looked up now, narrowing her eyes and taking a closer look at him.

“Everything alright with Monty? Who are you?” She asked, standing up and walking to the counter to set down her magazine.

“I am sorry to have to tell you this but Mr. Montgomery was killed early this morning.” The girl took a step back, her hand covering her mouth. “If there was anything out of the ordinary at all I need to know.” Caz continued.

“Um… no. I don’t think so anyway. What happened? He was such a nice guy. A little weird, but not like in a creepy way. Who would do that to him?” The girl’s eyes were beginning to fill with tears.

“I know this must be a bit of a shock to you, and I am sorry, but would you be able to answer some questions for me?” Caz asked. She nodded her head. “Did Mr. Montgomery ever have any issues at work? Did he have problems with any of the customers or other employees?”

“No,” the girl answered. “He always showed up early and would stay late if you needed him too. He covered for my ass more than once. He could get annoyed with the customers but nothing crazy. He’s been a little bit on edge lately, but I assumed that was because he was trying to kick his habit. Everyone knows he’s an addict, but this place doesn’t get college grads applying to work here. He’s been trying to get off the shit though, even started going to meetings.”

“Thank you,” Caz said. “Do you know the name of the group he was going to?”

“I don’t, sorry.” She responded.

“That is okay. Would you be able to show me the security footage from last night?” Caz asked.

“Um… the managers are the only ones with access to the system.” She was staring off at the back wall now as she answered him. “They won’t be in until tomorrow.”

Caz pulled a business card from his pocket and wrote down the case number on the back. He handed it to the clerk. “If you do remember anything, please call me. If there is any way to have a manager come in, this is time sensitive,” he handed her his card. “Could I get your name please?”

“Yeah,” she said, shaking her head and looking at Caz with eyes now filling with tears. “I’ll give him a call and see if he’ll come in. I’m Ashley. Ashley Kennedy.”

“Thank you, Ashley.” Caz put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly. He turned and walked back out to his car taking care not to step in the same mud-puddle from earlier.

Caz walked into the police station. He was greeted by the ever-present chatter and movement of people milling about the office. There were people filing paperwork, asking about leads on their cases, or just talking with friends after finding a few minutes break from work. He made his way to his desk and sat down. There was already a file folder with a stack of written statements and officer’s notes taken at the scene.

“Find out anything good at his work?” Katie’s voice came from behind him.

Caz turned in his chair. “No,” he said. “The clerk said Jackson had nothing to pass on at their shift change. She said he was a good worker, never missed a shift. She did confirm Jackson was an addict, but said he recently started going to a group and was trying to get clean.”

“Maybe his dealer didn’t like the idea of losing him as a customer,” Katie suggested. She leaned back onto the corner of his desk.

“Possibly,” Caz said. “But I think they would have just tried to discourage him from quitting, not kill him. I think the Captain’s theory sounds more likely.”

“He does usually know what he’s talking about. Here,” said Katie, “I finished copying the pictures for you.”

“Thank you,” Caz took the card from Katie and set it with the file of statements.

“Anytime. What’s the next step?” Katie asked.

“I am waiting for video of Jackson’s last shift,” Caz answered. “I need to review it for any activity that might stand out. The clerk said only the managers have access to the cameras though, so I have to wait for them to do it. Now, I am trying to find which group he started going to. There are just so many around the city now.”

“I think I saw some business cards in his wallet earlier. Maybe one of those is for this group,” Katie suggested. “It should have gone to the morgue with his body.

“That would be really helpful,” Caz stood up, putting the folder and SD card in his drawer and locking it. “I think I will head there now. Thank you.”

Caz entered the front office of the morgue, the clerk at the front desk looked up from his computer.

“Can I help you Detective?” He asked. “If you’re here about the body, the Coroner is just finishing up the cataloging now.”

“That is why I am here, actually. Is Dr. Ross available to speak now?” Caz said.

The clerk picked up his phone a dialed a number. “I have Detective Donovan here wanting to speak to you about the body from this morning,” there was a slight pause as he listened to the other end. “Yes sir, I’ll let him know,” he hung up the phone. “He’ll be right out to speak to you,” he then turned back to his computer and began typing.

“Thank you,” Caz said walking to some chairs in the waiting area. There were old magazines sitting on a small desk between the chairs, all of the address labels had been cut from the covers. None of them had been updated, it seemed, for several years.

A door behind the reception area opened and a short man with thick, white hair and a large nose walked out. “Caz!” Boomed a voice, seemingly much too loud for this quiet place. “So good to see you. What brings you in today?” Dr. Ross had been the Coroner for the past decade.

“The body from earlier, Jackson Montgomery, I was hoping to check his belongings to see if there is anything that could help with the case,” Caz said.

“Of course, right this way!” Dr. Ross turned quickly, gesturing with his arm for Caz to come through the door. “He’s on the slab now, I was getting him ready for an autopsy. His things are on the counter beside him.” They walked down the hall, Dr. Ross going on about the finer points of performing an autopsy. They arrived in the cold operation room. A large metal table was in the middle, Jackson Montgomery was lying on it, covered to the neck with a white sheet. “His stuff is there,” Dr. Ross pointed to a counter off to the side with various small objects laid out.

Caz looked at Jackson’s belongings on the counter and quickly found an old, black leather wallet. There was a wrinkled card with a bent corner inside, it said HEALTHY CHOICES, HEALTHY CHANGES on front. There were two phone numbers and an address not too far from the Evergreen Apartments.

Caz picked up the card and copied down the information. As he was setting it back down, he noticed a clipboard on the counter. There was a form depicting the front and back of a genderless person, with pen marks on its body. Three dots marked the back, one near the right shoulder one each on either side of the spine near the middle of the back. The front showed a line across the throat. There was another mark, a capital “T” which had been penned on. It was just below the wrist on the left forearm.

“What is this mark?” Caz asked, picking up the clipboard. “I do not remember any wounds to his arms.”

“Oh, that’s actually a tattoo of his. It’s of some sort of bird.” Dr. Ross said, pulling back the sheet and preparing to photograph the body.

Caz strode over to the table, seizing the left hand of the body and turning it to see the tattoo. The color drained from his face and he had to grab the table with his other hand for balance.

“Woah! You okay Caz?” Dr. Ross asked stepping forward, his eyes narrowing in concern.

Caz set the hand back on the table. “I am okay. Just checking something.” Unconsciously, he tugged the cuffs of his suit down a little more. “Sorry doctor, I have to go.” he hurried out of the room and left the office.

Caz was already dialing the number for Detective Daniel Franco as he was getting into his car. “Hey buddy!” He heard Dan’s voice answer “What’s goin’ on?”

“Dan, I need a favor. Can you look up Jackson Montgomery’s history. Nothing recent, just anything from about 15 years ago and earlier.”

“You got it. What’s going on? Think someone had an old grudge against your vic?” Dan asked.

“Not exactly,” Caz answered. “I just need to confirm something. Thank you, Dan,” he hung up the phone. Sitting alone in his car, still in the coroner’s parking lot, he pulled back the left cuff of his suit and shirt. He stared down at the tattoo, a crow perched on a tree branch, which he had received at 8 years old. It was the Family mark, done in black ink. And it was an exact match to the one imprinted on Jackson Montgomery.