This story continues my attempt to mix erotica and crime fiction. This chapter starts where chapter two ended. I recommend reading both prior chapters, in order, before you read this chapter.
This story is a work of fiction. Real institutions are mentioned, but they are used fictitiously. Insofar as the author knows, no real person affiliated with any of those institutions has ever behaved as described in this story. Any similarities between any character in this story and any real person are coincidental and unintended. I encourage comments on this story, both favorable and unfavorable. Thank you for reading.
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The old Buick sedan was parked at an outlet mall on Corkscrew Road. It was surrounded by uniform officers and crime scene techs. The uniform sergeant in charge said the Buick was registered to Congressman Jim Worth. Worth was running for his fifth term. Gail and I had moved to the area since the last election and didn't follow politics closely. The ads I'd seen said Worth was for law and order and traditional family values and against abortion in any circumstances.
The young woman was face down in the back seat. Her short skirt was around her waist. She wasn't wearing underwear. In life, she'd had a great ass and legs. The crime scene techs had taken their pictures, but the body was left in place so we could see it. Gail took a few more pictures with her phone. Gail had more experience with crime scenes than I did. I stayed out of the way and let her work.
The body was placed on a gurney face up. The victim had been a lovely woman. I saw no obvious signs of violence other than her ripped top. Beside me, Gail said softly "strangulation."
The victim appeared to be in her late twenties. The sergeant said, "Worth has a daughter but I think she's younger." The body went into an ambulance to go to the morgue. The crime scene techs would minutely inspect the entire area. The Buick would go to FDLE for forensics. The starting point for Gail and me was to talk to the Buick's owner.
We parked in front of the Congressman's home in an affluent part of the County. A handsome woman, probably around 50, answered the door. She said the Congressman had flown back to D.C. early that morning. She was his wife. Could she help us?
Laura Worth led us into an expensively furnished living room where Gail and I sat side-by-side on a sofa. Mrs. Worth identified the Buick from a picture on Gail's phone. It was the car her daughter Lisa used. Lisa was not home. Lisa had not been home all night, but that wasn't unusual. She was twenty, attended the local university, and had many friends. She often spent the night with one of her friends.
I was starting to ask when Mrs. Worth had last seen Lisa when Gail up and went to a shelf built into a wall. Gail picked up a framed photograph, looked at it for a moment, then went to Mrs. Worth. As Gail handed Mrs. Worth the picture, she asked, "who are the other two people?"
Mrs. Worth was obviously familiar with the picture. Handing it back to Gail, she said brightly, "Jim and Lisa. That's one of our favorite family pictures." Gail's face turned white. Wordlessly, she handed me the picture. I looked and got a sick feeling. The younger woman in the picture, Lisa Worth, looked a hell of a lot like the dead woman in the Buick.
I didn't know a better way to say it. "Mrs. Worth," I said, "I don't mean to cause undue alarm, but your Buick was found this morning in a parking lot in Estero. There was a young woman dead in the back seat. The young woman looks a lot like your daughter. Could you come with us to the morgue to look at the body just to make sure it isn't Lisa?"
"That's not necessary," Laura Worth replied. "Lisa always has her phone. I'll call her. You can talk to her and verify that she's very much alive." Mrs. Worth took her own phone out of a pocket, dialed a number, and waited. She obviously got voicemail because she said, "Lisa, it's Mom. Something's come up. Would you please call me right away? Love you." Mrs. Worth ended the call and told us, "Lisa will be calling in a few minutes. She always returns messages."
We sat, mostly silent, for about twenty minutes. Mrs. Worth said, "this is unusual. Lisa doesn't have class this morning. She usually calls back right away if she's not in class. Can I get you some coffee?" Gail and I declined. "Do you mind if I fix myself a cup?" Laura Worth asked. That was fine with us.
Laura Worth was out of the room for about ten minutes. We didn't want to say anything she might overhear, but Gail and I traded looks. We were silently telling each other that this does not look good.
Mrs. Worth came back into the living room with a cup and saucer in hand. She put them on a coffee table and said, "let me try her again." Mrs. Worth dialed again. She listened silently and ended the call. "Huh," she said, "it says Lisa's mailbox is full and can't receive messages."
Gail said, "Mrs. Worth, I know it's a burden, but if you'll come to the morgue with us, we can rule out your daughter, get on with our investigation, and stop bothering you. If your daughter calls while we're on our way, we'll just turn around and bring you home." Mrs. Worth reluctantly agreed.
Lisa Worth did not call her mother during the drive to the morgue. The morgue is in a relatively new and sterile, impersonal building. Laura Worth was obviously uncomfortable. I couldn't blame her.
A morgue staffer, Gail, and I accompanied Mrs. Worth into one of those cold rooms with a wall of small doors like you see on TV. The staffer opened a door, slid out a tray holding a body, and pulled the sheet away from the face.
Mrs. Worth stiffened and went white. "May I see the hips?" she asked. "Lisa has a small rose tattoo on her right hip." The staffer pulled the sheet further back. Mrs. Worth froze for a moment. Then, she sank to her knees and vomited on the floor. The body had a rose tattooed on its right hip.