When the boat lands at the shore, a dozen villagers rush over shaking their heads and hands. I pull on my sticky shirt, loosening it from my chest before I jump out. I shouldn’t be here, but I play the whole dumb tourist thing again, and hope they buy it like the last village did…

What happens next?

 

And… read the winner of last week’s prompt reply: Rebecca Henry of Alaska.

The bench looked deceivingly inconspicuous, like if you sat on it, you could enjoy your brown paper bag lunch, watching pigeons in the park, without any life altering events…

But it can be these simple things that can be deceiving; where no one would expect to find their worst nightmare.

 

I was the nearest detective on shift when the call came in and so I reached the crime scene first. It was I who wrapped the yellow tape in a ten-foot perimeter around the bench and dead body partially hidden in the bushes.

I debriefed the jogger who found it and wrote down her contact information and then walked the area to sweep for any clues. There was nothing. No sign of struggle, no loose items, just a corpse tossed haphazardly under the leaves, the face hidden in the shadows.

I waited patiently for my partner to join me as he picked up our lunch from our favorite Thai place, just down Central Park Avenue. I paced the sidewalk, checking my Facebook and Twitter. Nothing new. No new messages either. I shoved my phone back into the pocket of my black uniform pants and tapped my boot, glancing down the grassy hill.

When my radio sputtered to life, I answered the captain and told him the scene was secure. I avoided mentioning I was alone. After all, I was still a rookie. I slumped on the bench and wondered what happened to bring the victim here. The business suit and shined black boots were all I could see.

I breathed in deeply. Perhaps this was a test meant for the new detective. Maybe my partner was purposefully waiting to see what I would do. Maybe I could solve this crime before he joined me with our lunch. We could sit on this bench and plan our next course of action, question friends and relatives, make a suspect list, and file the appropriate warrants.

I stood up and neared the body. My steps were hesitant as I blocked out the imagined stories of the victim. Maybe he had a family; maybe she was a successful business CEO. I shook my head, moving to the other side of the bush. I gasped, almost gagging, and stepped back.

I had found my partner.

 

Also check Amanda‘s response on her personal blog.