Chapter 51

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Eli drove for another hour before pulling off the highway at a no-name, hole in the wall roadside motel. I knew he was purposely trying to choose one that wouldn't ask questions or check ID for that matter, but still I thought he had higher standards. When he opened the door to the motel room, I was pretty sure I saw something scamper across the floor. I had to cover my mouth to stop from screaming, but Eli was unfazed by it. While he went in to scan the room for wires and hidden cameras I begged him for us to go elsewhere. At that point I would've gladly accepted another abandoned warehouse. At least then I knew we didn't waste any money on the dump.

After Eli gave it the all-clear, he beckoned me in and immediately unloaded his laptop on the table. He didn't waste a moment in getting set up and went to work immediately. He didn't even bother to take his shoes off. Meanwhile I stood in the middle of the room with my backpack and stared at the pair of queen beds that undoubtedly had more bacteria living on them than had been identified by scientists. After being woken up at the crack of dawn and having another shit day thanks to Triple-6, my body was exhausted. I longed for lying down and maybe even shutting my eyes. Yet the thought of touching the bed made my skin crawl.

"There are worse places to sleep," Eli mumbled, sensing my distress.

"Yes, but I can count those on one hand," I argued. "That doesn't make lying on that any easier."

He rolled his eyes, "Stay fully dressed then. Limit your skin contact."

Letting out a deep breath, I reluctantly sat down on the bed closest to the window and dug through my backpack to find Dr. Higgins' journal. My desire for sleep might not have outweighed my disgust for the motel, but my curiosity for what the journal contained did. Pulling away the pillows, I rested my back against the wooden headboard and opened the front cover.

I'll never forget the day that our professor warned us of THE case. The case that would get under our skin the moment we walk onto the first crime scene. The case where we would want to document every little detail, no matter how small. The case that would define a career - or break it. He expressed then the importance of keeping a personal record, if not for our benefit, then for the benefit of those that would follow. While keeping a personal record is a strange thing for me to write, I knew as soon as I saw the footballer's body contorted and posed on the high school's rooftops with a football shoved in his mouth with enough force causing severe bilateral dislocation of the mandibular condyles antemortem. There was no question this would be that case.

"Oh," I muttered, covering my mouth without even thinking about it.

While we had a vague understanding of what happened to the other victims, there was a lot of detail kept out of the news. We didn't know the specifics of how Ray Drummond was found, only that he was found deceased on school property over the weekend. School had been closed that Monday while investigators worked. We were told that his death was a result of a bad mix of alcohol and drugs, and really we didn't question it. It wasn't until there were more deaths that we were told his death was not an accident. Clearly it was from foul play, but they were happier to lie to the community than admit was really happened.

"What is it?" Eli questioned, noticing my reaction.

"Ray was found with a football stuffed in his mouth," I explained.

"Triple-6 wouldn't be able to do that unless he...," Eli trailed off.

"Yeah, absolutely dislocated his jaw to get it in," I shook my head in disbelief.

"Postmortem?" It was less of a question and more of a plea from Eli.

"When have you known Triple-6 to do things postmortem?" I pointed out.

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