Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (best management books of all time txt) 📕
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- Author: J.R. Adler
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“I’m going to find the person that did this. Just hold on a little bit longer. Your daughter will have her justice.”
Lisa nodded. “Thank you, Chief Deputy King.”
Kimberley nodded and saw herself out.
30
Kimberley parked her car on the side of the road just before the bridge that crossed over Deer Creek. She hadn’t been back here since the day Hannah’s body was discovered, and she wasn’t sure what exactly brought her here. Perhaps she was looking for another clue or just clarity. She felt good about where the investigation was going, like it was finally heading in the right direction. Her gut told her it was.
Before she could step out of the vehicle, a black lifted Dodge Ram pulled up slowly beside her and stopped. Deputy Craig Lodge rolled down his window. He was wearing a pair of aviators, a crooked smile and his signature wife beater. A fat wad of dip sat behind his lower lip.
“Chief Deputy King,” he said with a tip of his head.
Kimberley took a deep breath. This was the last person she wanted to deal with right now. Be professional. Be professional. She repeated to herself.
“Lodge,” she said, withholding the “Deputy.” In her book, he did not deserve the title. “What are you doing here?”
“Just checking out the area so I’m up to speed when I get back on the Brown case.”
“From my understanding, your suspension isn’t up for another four weeks.” Kimberley raised an eyebrow.
“That’s true, but I’m sure this case won’t be solved by then. From what I’ve heard round town, y’all are running around in circles, got zilch to go on.”
Fucking asshole. Kimberley got out of her vehicle, closing the door behind her. She stood a few feet from Craig in his stupid lifted truck. “I think your time is best spent focusing on completing your therapy and your AA classes, Lodge. We’ve got it covered here.” She narrowed her eyes at him.
He twisted up his lips and repositioned the wad of dip in his mouth. “Alright then, King. See ya around.”
“When you’re back on the force, you better have learned to address me properly,” she warned.
“Apologies, Chief Deputy King.”
Kimberley turned on her foot and walked away toward the bridge. Craig revved his engine and stepped on the gas pedal, taking off at full speed, kicking up dirt and loose rocks. Jackass.
Kimberley carefully trekked down the side of the hill, brushing past the long blowing wheat. The sun was peaking behind the horizon, one last look for the day, before it fell completely. Kimberley glanced up and down the creek, listening to the water babble its way past rocks. She walked to the spot where Hannah’s body had been discovered. It was now just an area where the wheat had been flattened and the dirt was out of place. There was no indication that death had been there. Death always left a mark.
“What were you doing down here, Hannah?” Kimberley whispered as if hoping the wind would answer back. “Why were you here with your baby?”
Kimberley’s eyes ran over the flattened wheat. It was like a crop circle indicating life lost rather than new life. She walked around Hannah’s spot, down the creek to where the head was discovered. There was nothing to indicate a body part once laid there. No blood. No flattened wheat. No kicked-up dirt. Nothing. But she remembered exactly where it was. The memory of Hannah’s emerald-green eyes submerged just beneath a pool of milk would never leave her mind. Another tattoo for the brain.
The sound of a vehicle and a loud voice caught Kimberley’s attention. She put her hand over her eyes and looked up at the side of the road. She shook her head when she saw Kent Wills, a younger man that looked just like Kent, and a group of people behind them.
“The story of Dead Woman Crossing began over one hundred years, but it’s one that continues to this very day, taking the life of Katie DeWitt James back in 1905 and now Hannah Brown, both slain in the exact same way: a bullet to the head and decapitation right in front of their infant daughters. Some say you can still hear Katie calling out for help around here late at night, and recent sightings say they’ve heard Hannah calling out for her baby Isobel. ‘Where are you, Isobel?’ she yells all throughout the night,” Kent said, guiding his tour group down the valley.
Kimberley shook her head in disgust and rolled her eyes.
Kent tipped his head at Kimberley. “See if you can feel them. See if you can hear them. Go wander,” he instructed.
His tour group of ten spread out, walking up and down the bank of Deer Creek, traipsing over the place that should be seen as sacred rather than some tourist attraction for the morbid. Kent walked toward Kimberley, side by side with the younger-looking Kent that she presumed to be his son. He looked around thirty with a full beard and blue eyes that contrasted with his dark brown hair.
“Chief Deputy King, I thought this scene was cleared yesterday,” Kent said.
“It was.”
“Well, then, what brings you down here?” he asked, rocking back on his heels.
“Just covering my bases.”
“Alright… this here’s my boy, Kent Jr.” He patted his son on the back. Kimberley should have known that Kent was the type of man to name another human being after him as if there were some legacy he was leaving behind and ensuring it was carried on.
The son held out his hand for a handshake.
Kimberley looked down at his hand, ignoring it. She looked back at Kent and Kent Jr. She wasn’t interested in pleasantries with either of them. “You got a whole part in your ghost tour about Hannah Brown already?”
“Gotta seize every opportunity you can,” Kent said with a “what can you do” shrug.
“I wouldn’t call the death of a
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