Brush Creek Charlie - D. B. Reynolds (best pdf reader for ebooks TXT) 📗

“Who else?”
“Yuck!”
“There’re some sickos on the loose out here.”
“That’s to say the least.”
“Didn’t they find a body up by The Plaza?”
“About a couple’a months ago.”
“Think it’s the same maniac who killed the other woman?”
“Since I’m a betting man, I’d bet everything I’ve got it was.”
“We better call the police.”
“Good idea.”
A brief call to the KCPD stirred up enough action to bring police officers and homicide detectives to the horrible crime scene. Crime scene tape covered areas from Brush Creek Boulevard to Swope Parkway and over to Blue Parkway. Motorists and residents stood over on Brush Creek Boulevard with quizzical expressions on their faces. What happened down by the creek banks? They just had to know.
Veteran homicide detective Lieutenant Jerry Overstreet hadn’t solved the murder of Lisa Wallace. Being called back to Brush Creek for yet another gruesome murder investigation flipped his brains upside down. The true genius himself, Dr. Anthony McKinnis, along with members of his forensic staff, showed up at the crime scene and were ready to go to work.
Overstreet looked at Dr. McKinnis with a cordial frown. “Doc, I know it’s too early to tell, but what’re we possibly looking at?”
“This vic’s in much worse shape than the woman found a couple’a months ago here in Brush Creek,” Dr. McKinnis explained in partial details. “Looks like our perp went a lot more mutilation crazy. We’re going to have our work cut out for us this time.”
“Also, it looks like the critters around Brush Creek got their chance to really snack.”
“The bite marks on the arm are those of sewer rats.”
“There’s enough of them around Brush Creek.”
“I’d say the decomposition process started over a week ago.”
“Like the first vic found up by The Plaza, positive identification won’t be easy.”
“Give me a couple’a days, detective. I should have something for you by then.”
“You always do good work, doc. I’ll check back with you before the week’s up.”
Overstreet was the best at digging deep into the souls of witnesses. He approached Michael with a thin pad and a pen.
He turned loose his best questioning tactics. “So, you’re Michael Scott?”
“Yes, that’s me,” Michael said, the stench still irritating his senses.
“About what time did you discover the body in the trashbags?”
“A little over an hour ago.”
“How’d you come up on it?”
“The smell, that rotten smell, it hit me in the face like a two-by-four board. Myself and my workers thought we’d come upon some raw sewage.”
“Working for the Parks and Recreation Department down here in Brush Creek, I’m sure you always come upon raw sewage.”
“We sure do.”
“Any suspicious looking people around when you pulled the trashbags out of the water?”
“Nobody but me and my workers were around. We’re supposed to be cleaning up this area from all the trash and excess brush.”
“How long have you worked for the Parks and Recreation Department?”
“Twenty-Five years.”
“You ever made a gruesome discovery like this before?”
“Never in my forty-nine years on this Earth.”
“Thanks for what you’ve told me so far.”
Michael placed a sympathetic grasp on Overstreet’s arm. “Detective, my heart goes out to this person’s family. I’m sorry about what happened to them.”
“Their family will be even sorrier.”
The man Overstreet considered his alter ego, homicide detective Carey “Corky” Schroeder, drove to the crime scene in his unmarked detective’s car. Dr. McKinnis and the forensic team collected all the DNA samples and returned to their offices to start their work. The mutilated body was hauled inside the van and driven off.
Carey approached Overstreet as his mind wandered from the cosmos. “Jerry, I came as soon as I got the message. What do we have here?”
Overstreet returned a depressed look. “Looks like our psychotic monster found somebody else to put on the chopping block.”
“What happened?”
“Some Parks and Recreation workers found a body inside some trashbags floating in the creek waters.”
“Like the dismembered vic found up by The Plaza?”
“Yes.”
“Doc McKinnis say how long it’d been decomposing?”
“Probably a little over a week.”
“I’d say our perp is operating systematically and covertly.”
“You’re right, Cork,” Overstreet muffled. “Dropping the body off in the same spot wouldn’t’ve been smart on his behalf.”
“Question stands, is he done playing the butcher man?”
“Let’s hope we find out before another body turns up in Brush Creek. This time, the sewer rats cashed in and got a piece of the action.”
“So this vic’s in worse shape than the first one?”
Overstreet tapped into his memory bank. “I’ll tell ya Cork, Doc McKinnis is convinced that the first vic was dismembered with a Full Tang Monster Machete. He made that determination by closely studying the actual ridges of the blade that sliced into her skin and bones when he went he chopped her up. The vic found by the maintenance workers got it worse than our first vic.”
“Jerry, you think the department should put Brush Creek under surveillance for awhile?”
“Surveillance doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Let’s hope the chief will go for it.”
“We better move fast before this guy strikes again.”
“He’s still out there, and I’ll bet he lives close to this area.”
“My guess is a two mile radius, give or take.”
“Cork, talk to some of the locals around here. See what you can find while the department tries to make a positive identification on the vic.”
“Sounds good, Jerry. I’ll let ya know what I find out.”
A hungry news corps trampled towards Overstreet with their cameras and microphones. Veteran reporter and anchorwoman
Stephanie Powers pushed her microphone forward into the face of Overstreet. “Detective Overstreet, can you tell us who, what, or why a badly dismembered body was dumped here in Brush Creek?”
“I can’t tell you who, what, or why so far,” Overstreet rationalized. “We haven’t got a single clue at this point.”
“But this isn’t your typical homicide.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Detective Overstreet, this is the second dismembered body found in two months in Brush Creek. Are there possible connections between both victims?”
“Very strong connections,” Overstreet deliberated. “Right now, we have a crime scene with a dismembered body and absolutely no evidence. We’re trying to make a judgement between what happened. We’re trying to assemble a Christmas toy without directions.”
“So, trying to find any answers will be tough?”
“Real tough.”
“Your future plans?”
“The KCPD will be forming a special squad to investigate these two homicides. Myself and six other detectives have been working ten to twelve hour days, even seven days a week.”
“We do realize these cases can be difficult. Is there any type of motivation, rationale, or reward this person has for killing?”
“I don’t like getting caught up in ‘what ifing’. There can be several complexities involved as to what his true motives or rewards are for killing his victims.”
“Detective Overstreet, thanks for that information.”
“You’re welcome.”
Overstreet and other KCPD personnel closed up the crime scene. Many other questions remained without answers.


CHAPTER—18

Lieutenant Overstreet spent the middle of his career chasing behind KC mobsters and bank robbers and serial rapists. Rarely was he assigned to cases which involved psychotic serial killers. The Galluccio Mafia family stirred up enough bullshit starting from the late sixties up into the early eighties. Angelo Galluccio constantly left a scent for Overstreet and other detectives to pick up on. With organized crime pushed aside on his agenda, Overstreet faced the greatest challenge of his career.
Two days following the discovery of the second mutilation victim in the sewage infested waters of Brush Creek, Overstreet turned once again to Dr. Anthony McKinnis for more answers. Dr. McKinnis had completed his autopsy on the latest Brush Creek victim. He made some rather complex discoveries. The cutting, sawing, lifting, dissecting, weighing, examining and turning over of the body was done. Dr. McKinnis stood on his feet for fourteen hours during the last two days.
He was tired but didn’t mind working hard for a detective who dedicated just as many hours to his profession as he did.
Overstreet walked into the autopsy room with uncertainty on his face. “How’s it going, doc?”
“Fine detective. And yourself?” Dr. McKinnis smiled with great sincerety.
“Great, doc, just great. What’cha have so far?”
“It sure isn’t pretty, detective.”
Dr. McKinnis felt comfortable in his well-worn scrubs. He slipped into his disposable plastic apron and teased out a pair of thin latex gloves. Overstreet placed a mask over his face. A thick layer of wintergreen oil was spread inside the mask to camouflage the odor. The smell of death and composition simmered into the air after Dr. McKinnis pulled back the white sheet from the torso and badly-dismembered limbs. Overstreet couldn’t help but produce a frown.
Dr. McKinnis pulled the bright overhead lamp closer to the neck of the wounded torso. “We both know that the first vic suffered the same fate as this vic, but looks like this one got a little worse treatment. The bluish-gray discoloration around the neck indicates that she also suffered cyanosis. Unusually strong hands choked the very life out of her. The veins along her neck were squeezed extremely tight which blocked arterial flow. The ruptured spinal cord and dislocated vertebrae shows that