Chapter 10: Pound of Flesh

“Hey! Hey what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Gavin yelled as he rushed across the hallway towards Alexa’s apartment.

“Sir, could you…”

“Put that down! Where are you going with Hannah’s things?”

“Sir, calm down. I’m Detective Curt Monroe with the Brooklyn Heights Police department.”

“Brooklyn Heights?” Gavin asked, taking a look at the man’s credentials as he flipped open his badge wallet. “What are you doing in St. Claire?”

“I’m here as part of a joint task force. We’re investigating cases involving organized crime which led me to the missing persons’ turned homicide of Hannah Taylor.”

“H-homicide?” Gavin repeated, shaking his head in shock as he let the word register. “What?”

“Do you live here?”

“Yeah…I—across the hall.”

“May I have your name please?”

“Gavin. Gavin Stark.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. Can you please tell me how you knew the victim?”

“Victim? What? Wait, what are you saying?” he asked, feeling his heart sink to the pit of his stomach as his blood pressure elevated to the point of a throbbing headache. “Are you telling me she’s…Hannah…Hannah’s de…sh—she’s dead?” he looked at the Detective with confused, angry eyes as he fell against the wall. Slowly, he sank to the floor, trying to make sense of what the man was telling him. “No. No that…no…why are you taking all of her stuff? Wha…where’s Hannah?”

“Sir, can we step inside your apartment to speak? Let these men do their job.” Gavin nodded yes and led the Detective inside his home. “Sir, I regret to inform you that your friend was found on Thursday around 6:30 in the morning. We pulled a body we believe to be Miss Taylor’s out of the St. James River not far from where she worked. She was badly burned but so far cause of death is undetermined.”

“What? No. No, not—not Hannah.”

“I’m deeply sorry for your loss.”

“God, no. Please. I think I’m gonna be sick,” he said, placing a hand on his stomach as he felt his insides boiling. Gavin’s head was spinning as he tried to make sense of what was happening but, no amount of shaking would clear his mind of the many thoughts.

“I understand this is troubling news. Take as much time as you need. Do you want me to grab you some water or…?”

“No! That’s…this isn’t right. It can’t be. Are you sure? How can you be sure it was Hannah?” Gavin asked. Tears instantly fell from his eyes and he dropped onto his sofa, cussing and crying. “It wasn…it couldn’t be. She’s—she’s not. She—she…no. No. Not her. Not—not Hannah. Not my Hannah. GOD DAMMIT! Why did I let her go? I should have gone…I should have been with her,” he paused and wiped at the tears flowing down his face. “FUCK! No! I—can’t. How did it happen?” he asked, peering up at the detective. “Who did this to her? Why?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Do you know of any enemies she may have had? Anyone who may have made death threats towards her for any reason?”

“She uh, she worked as a prosecutor at my Dad’s off…MY DAD!” he shouted, jumping up.

“Wait, you believe your father had something to do with Miss Taylor’s death?”

“No, no, he…he uh he,” Gavin’s voice cracked as he strained to form words. “He was the first person I went to once I reported her missing. He’s the State’s Attorney. I was hoping he would help me find her, oh god!” He fell back, covering his face with his hands as he struggled to compose himself. Gavin angrily wiped at the tears that continued falling, his stomach and throat burned from the relentless sobs.

“I know this is hard, Mr. Stark, but it’s very important we gather enough information to properly investigate this tragic crime. You said Miss Taylor worked as a prosecutor with the State’s Attorney, do you know if she had any particular case where the defendant may have threatened her in any way?”

“No,” he sniveled and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “No, I can’t help you with that. The only time I got to see her in action was during a domestic abuse thing and it was pretty basic. My Dad could probably better help you with that or talk to the other attorney she worked with, Tobias Wells.”

“That’s good. Is there anything else you can tell me? Maybe about her personal life. Was she getting any unwanted attention from anyone? Have a relationship that ended badly?”

“Yes! Yeah, she had this ex, she told me he’d just recently skipped parole or something and that he had come looking for her. There was a restraining order in place but, he’d cut his ankle monitor and was off the grid.”

“And what’s his name?”

“Uh…Nolan.”

Detective Monroe scribbled the name down in his pad and tapped it briefly with his pen. “Nolan what?”

“Fuck! I—I don’t know. She never told me his last name.”

“What else can you tell me about him?”

“Nothing. She didn’t really talk about it. She just said that he was dangerous and that he’d followed her here. He abused her and was in prison for murder. I confronted him on the beach a few months back.”

“That’s good. Do you think you could maybe describe him to a sketch artist?”

“No,” Gavin’s tears renewed. “It was too long ago. I can’t really remember what he looked like. Sandy brown hair, muscular, but that’s about it.”

“I understand. Thank you, Mr. Stark, you’ve been a really big help,” he nodded as he gently pat his shoulder.

“Do you…do you know when she died?”

“The coroner hasn’t finished with the autopsy just yet, but we should know something by the end of the day.”

“What about her parents? Have you contacted them to…to let them know?”

“We haven’t been able to locate next of kin. Do you have an address or a phone number for them?”

“No. Hannah said they were hippies,” he choked up again, wiping away a few stray tears as he recounted details of the conversation. “She told me she was born in Indiana and that she moved around a lot. Last place she mentioned was South Carolina. With you here I assume Brooklyn Heights.”

“In that case, Mr. Stark, we may need you to make the identification.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I can’t. I don’t want to see her like that. I can’t have my last memory of her be that.”

“I understand, sir, and I truly am sorry for your loss, but it’s important we have a confirmed ID by someone who knew her before the investigation can proceed. Would you be willing to come down to the station with me?”

“Yeah. Yeah sure,” Gavin relented, patting his back pocket. “Let me grab my phone.”

Detective Monroe drove Gavin with him to the St. Claire Sheriff’s station. Nervously he waited behind a wall with a small window while the forensic medical examiner prepped Alexa’s body for viewing. The curtain drew back and a television beside him came on.

Gavin looked up at the screen as the M.E dragged the camera over the body, focusing on the face. “I don’t…I don’t know.”

“The fire did extensive damage. Take your time. Be sure.”

Gavin stifled a moan as fresh tears started down his cheeks and nodded his head, confirming the woman’s identity. The camera quickly shut off and the morgue technician drew the blinds closed again.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” Detective Monroe again offered condolences.

“How did it happen?”

“I can’t provide you with that information, Mr. Stark, as it is an ongoing investigation.”

“Please? I—I have to know.”

Curt sighed as he began. “We believe she was run off the road near the Crossway Bridge. There were fresh tire tracks suggesting more than one vehicle entered the trail. Several footprints were discovered near the mouth of the riverbed indicative of a struggle; at least two people were out there. Blood was found on the ground as well as the trunk of a tree, a preliminary report identifies it as belonging to Hannah Taylor.”

“Can I see her closer?”

“I wouldn’t advise it.”

“Please?” Detective Monroe again sighed and led Gavin inside the room. He circled the body once, leaning over to take in her face. The fire had destroyed much of it and the person was barely recognizable. If not for the blonde hair, he wouldn’t know it was her. But there was something else. Something was off. And he was getting a strong suspicion that he was wrong. “I proposed,” Gavin whispered to himself as he looked over Alexa’s body.

“Excuse me?” Detective Monroe asked for clarification.

“I proposed to Hannah. She was wearing a 4-carat platinum engagement ring. It was shaped like a heart and had our initials on the inside. She never would have taken it off. This woman, it’s not her.” 

“Well as I mentioned, we are investigating Ms. Taylor’s death as a homicide. It’s very likely that whoever caused her to be in the river, took the ring off her finger before dumping her in.”

Gavin continued shaking his head as he stared at the half charred, bloated, lifeless body. Nothing Detective Monroe said was registering with him. He couldn’t see the corpse as the woman he loved and he refused to believe she was dead. “Can I have a moment alone, please?”

“Certainly.” The detective cleared the room and Gavin waited for the door to close before moving closer to the woman’s head. Retrieving his phone, he snapped a few shots of her face, hands and upper torso. 

Rushing home, Gavin hastily rummaged through a box of photos in his closet until he came upon the Xerox paper of Alexa’s face. Sliding against his bed, he pulled out his cell phone and compared the two images. There was no mistaking it. The shapes of their faces were not the same, not even close. And outside of the eye color and hair, nothing else matched. Taking a deep breath, he dropped his head against the mattress and sighed. “I knew it.”

“Gavin? Hey,” Detective Kirk Nesmith said, seeing his best friend sitting in his office as he came in. “I didn’t know you were here, man, I wouldn’t have kept you waiting.”

“No, it’s ok, I know you’re busy.”

“I’m never too busy for a friend. What’s up?”

“I need your help. I want you to help me find someone.”

“Is this about that Nolan guy again? Because like I told you, without a last name…”

“No, not him.”

“Ok,” Kirk replied, shutting his door and stepping further into the room. “Who then?” Gavin handed him a piece of paper and Kirk eyed it suspiciously. “Hannah?”

“Yeah.”

“Gav, man, I heard over the wire about the recovery. I was going to call you after the ID but…I’m sorry, I thought you’d heard.”

“I heard. That woman in the morgue is NOT Hannah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“I’ve seen her. I mean I know I wasn’t around her every day like you were but, the two are identical.”

“No,” Gavin shook his head. “Not even close. I don’t know who that woman is in the morgue but it’s not her, it’s not Hannah. I’ve seen her do things that…Kirk, trust me, I feel it in every fiber of my being. Hannah’s still out there somewhere and I need your help. Please. Help me find my fiancée.”

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