Chapter Text
The pen drummed on the desk as the bored detective Randolph Bell eyed his computer screen and the door, making sure he would know if anyone came in with a new case. His computer screen was pulled up on the Atlanta NEWS that was constantly being refreshed, in hopes of finding a new story worth his time. He was hungry for a story, any kind of story. Murder, Missing persons, theft of a valuable jewel, anything along those lines.
By the time the rookie detective came in with a case, Bell's head was on the desk and the drumming of the pen had stopped.
“Detective Bell, we have a case.”
Bell’s head popped off the desk at the word “case.” “It’s about damn time. Hit me with it.”
“Multiple people found dead strung out around the area. Death’s ranging from bullet to the brain, stab to the heart, and a jump off a bridge. All weapons were found by the victims' bodies if they used it to kill themselves, but that’s all that’s been observed for now.”
The rookie handed the 3 case files to Bell who took it eagerly and flipped through the information. This was definitely worth his time. “I’ll take all of these.”
The car ride was silent. Bell rode in the passenger seat while his asshole partner, Barrett Cain, drove the car. Bell leaned his head against the window, mind elsewhere. His mind normally wandered whenever things were quiet and he had no reason to be present. For this daydream, it wandered to Kit, his wife. She was working at the hospital right now. If he was still there, he would be with her right now maybe scrubbing into a surgery or just having a nice chat. But things had changed since his time at the hospital, and now they lived in a small town and Bell no longer found joy in working at the hospital and doing what he used to love so much. Now he was a detective, solving murders and interrogating potential criminals and witnesses.
“Would you like music or something? It’s kinda awkward here. I’m turning on some music,” Cain said, turning on the radio, knocking Bell out of his daydream. Under Pressure by Queen and David Bowie started to boom in the car.
“Under pressure that burns a building down.
Splits a family in two.
Puts people on streets.”
Bell wasn’t really a huge David Bowie fan, but he liked Queen enough to whisper the words as the song went through. There was no way he was singing in front of Cain. He found it hard enough to sing in front of Kit.
---
They pulled up to the crime scene which was on the side of a very long stretching road in the middle of nowhere. Yellow caution tape was strung around the area, and police cars lined the area. Bell got out of the car and began to walk to the scene. He walked under the caution tape and pushed his way around police officers to get to the body. He finally made it to the front to find a person, on their back, and eyes wide open. A huge bullet hole was seen right on his temple, and dried blood crusted his head and stained the soil and grass below him. The gun laid next to the man's left hand, covered in blood. Bell keeled next to the dead man and observed the gruesome sight. It looked like a suicide for sure, but you can never be too certain by just tearing back the first layer of the potential murder.
“Looks like no sign of struggle, but why kill yourself here? On the side of the road? This road stretches pretty damn far, and the only reason you would be taking it is to leave or enter. This man is on the side driving out, which means he was going through town, or he lives here and he's taking a trip out.”
“Talking to yourself again Randy?” Cain said interrupting Bells train of thought.
“That’s how I think best, now shut up, and don’t call me Randy… Shit! I lost my damn thoughts!” Bell got up and walked around the body, looking for anything extra unusual, trying to get back in his rhythm. “Son of a bitch. Thanks a lot Cain,” Bell sneered at Cain before turning to the chief police officer. “Can I take a look in the car?”
The police officer nodded and Bell showed himself to the car. He opened the drivers door and peered inside. There was a Dr. Pepper can in the cup holder, and the victim's phone sat in the other cup holder. He moved to the back seats and saw a suitcase lying in the back seat. “He was definitely going somewhere, but I’d guess it as a small little week trip, judging by how much baggage he has.” Bell then moved to the trunk and opened it up to find nothing but a spare tire. Bell slammed the trunk and moved to the suitcase in the back seat. He opened it up to find clothes and toiletries bunched in the bag. After a basic skim over the contents he closed it and began to write notes on his pad.
---
“This is a suicide, that’s it. There’s seriously nothing big about this at all. I don’t even know why we’re wasting our time with this,” Cain said, getting into the passenger seat, and Bell hopped into the driver's seat.
“If this is suicide, then why didn’t he just do it at home? And why did he have a bag packed like he was going somewhere? It makes no sense as to why he would kill himself here. Now enough talk. Let's move onto the next scene. It’s not too far from here.” Bell started the car and they wheeled away from the crime and drove to the next one.
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“Stabbing in the heart with a stick? Now that’s not the best way to go out,” Cain said while looking at the woman propped against the tree with a sharp stick shoved into her chest and blood staining her sweater.
Bell looked at her surroundings. This woman was in the park, probably taking a night stroll judging by the way she dressed (Sweater, scarf, jeans, and warm boots.) “out of nowhere she just decides to grab a stick and stab herself? How strange. There’s no sign of struggle, same with the previous man. They just found the impulse to kill themselves? Now that seems a bit off. Especially stabbing yourself with a stick seems like a bad way to die. It’s a very painful death.”
“We have a team taking DNA off the stick to make sure that there was no sign of foul play, but I think this was also a suicide. Can’t we just rule this as a suicide and be done here?”
Bell ignored Cain's complaints. “We won’t know if it’s suicide or not until that DNA scan comes back, so until then I say lets move onto the next one.”
Bell walked to the car, Cain not far behind.
---
Bell and Cain stared off the side of the bridge and looked down at the shore where a dead body lay, skull cracked in the back because of the impact from the jump.
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“Watch your step old man. I don’t want you slipping and breaking that melon of yours,” Cain said, as they scaled the hill on the way down to the shore.
“You should be the one to be nervous. I don’t think that body of yours can hold that big head you’ve got, even if you were on flat ground.” Bell knew Cain could care less if he slipped and died on the spot. He may even pop a bottle of champagne in celebration of his death. He would never admit it, but Bell knew Cain hated him.
They made it to the shore and walked to investigate the body that was surrounded by police.
“This kid was listening to music when he jumped. Now why would he do that?” Bell said looking at the Walkman that was broken in the sand and big rocks.
“Maybe he just wanted to listen to his favorite music before he died. I know I would want to listen to my music before I die.”
“Your death wouldn’t be optional. I’m assuming you’d die of old age or natural disaster because you love yourself too much to kill yourself. This kid wanted to kill himself, and I feel that music is the last thing he would want.” Bell looked at the cassette tape that popped out of the Walkman from the impact. “I don’t think one would listen to Beastie Boys before they committed suicide.”
“You never know. They could totally jump while listening to Beastie Boys.”
Bell shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t really think so. It feels off to me.”
“This one is definitely a suicide. What kind of killer would throw someone off a bridge that everyone walks on and attracts the most damn attention in this town?”
“That’s what I was thinking. A killer wouldn’t just throw someone off of the most famous bridge in this town, but for some reason it feels like this kid, along with the other two had an agenda. They were in the act of doing things and they suddenly just kill themselves. It makes no sense at all. The first guy was taking a trip, the woman going for a night stroll, and the kid. Probably just taking a walk to maybe a friend's house and listening to his music on the way there. There’s definitely more behind this, and I’m going to figure it out.”
This was just the beginning. They barely just skimmed the surface of this case.