Detective Crawford

3

Slamming the car door, Megan looked around the park with her usual stern gaze. A few kilometers away, she could barely see a cluster of people.

"Megan!"

The woman turned to hear the cry. It was Alex, who was at her side in a minute.

"Hi," Megan greeted him tiredly. Alex was a cheerful man with a contagious laugh and funny jokes, and Megan liked his company, he made her feel comfortable and safe, but since last night, Megan's mood hadn't been quite so cheerful.

"Why are you so sad?"

"You asked me that this morning..."

"I'm going to ask you again and again until I figure out why."

"Can we talk about it later? I don't want to talk about my problems in a place where there are more important things to do."

"If you say so. Shall we check out the murder scene?"

"Come on."

As Megan looked around the park, she realized that it had been a long time since she had walked in such a comfortable and peaceful place. It had been a long time since she had sat in a park and drunk her favorite coffee while listening to the birds sing. Megan was constantly immersed in her work, it was in the first place and took up all her time. Maybe that's why she was thinking about divorcing Lewis? Maybe if she paid more attention to her husband, everything would be fine? She pushed these stupid thoughts away. "Nothing can help that bastard." Although, somewhere in her heart, she believed that Lewis would change, so she couldn't leave him.

It was horrible to look at the crime scene. It was as if she was in a cemetery. A shallow hole had been dug right in front of her feet, a coffin could fit in it. Everything smelled of dampness and earth. A cold wind howled. But the worst thing was what was in that ugly hole. A young girl's body was sprawled out in the damp, cold earth. Before Megan and Alec arrived, the other investigators had cleared the dead woman's face from the ground. So now Megan was looking at a lifeless, familiar face. Megan recognized it-it was Stella, her niece.

The poor woman's legs felt like cotton wool. With her feet barely on the ground, Megan looked for a little support and found it in Alex's bicep.

"Megan, are you okay? You act like you've never seen a dead body before. I feel like you're going to rip my arm off."

"No... No, no, no," She couldn't believe it.

The woman looked at him with her empty, frightened eyes, and he knew something was wrong. Holding Megan on his shoulder, Alex put his huge arm around her waist, and it was a warm, hot touch. Whether it was a kind of sadness or nausea, Megan didn't know. She couldn't cry. It felt like there were no tears in her body, not at this moment, like they would all be cried out eventually, even though there was a lump in her throat. Her mind kept thinking back to the moment when her beloved dog Emmy, who had been with her since she was a teenager, died four years ago. And then, watching her lying in the veterinary clinic, and when the vet told her that she had died... No. Megan couldn't shed a tear. It was just like today, the lump in her throat, the unpleasant feeling and the sense of inferiority. She remembered all the other times when she hadn't been able to cry. The other corpses she had dealt with began to come to mind, all different: fractured, ulcerated, with deadly pale, dried out, festering, sticky, rough skin.

"Megan, what's wrong? Are you sick? You're pale as a wall."

"I'm... I'm not feeling well. Can you get me some... sedatives, please?"

"Sure. I won't be long. Stay here, don't go anywhere."

Alex ran to get the pills and Megan stood over the pit, staring at the dead woman's face as if looking for answers as to what to do next. She couldn't think rationally because of these annoying thoughts. She needed to calm down. In a moment, Alex was standing next to her, barely breathing, with the pills and a bottle of water.

"Thank you..."

"Let's go sit down farther away from this... place. I have a feeling you're going to faint, and if I don't catch you, you'll hurt yourself."

"You won't be able to wait."

Still clinging to Alex, Megan staggered away from the oppressive pit.