The Birthmark Murders

She was pretty uncomfortable with grocery shopping after 11:30PM. It was her preference, as opposed to going right after work from her home-based business. As she drove down the street towards her home in the cul-de-sac she could see the flashing of the street lamp post flickering violently. As she parked her car parallel to the mailbox, she slowly scanned the area around her. It was the way that the mist loomed so late in the evening that made her a bit uncomfortable, although it's common during the rainy season in Georgia. She quickly popped her trunk.

She knew this evening she would not be making multiple trips with groceries. She purchased about $65 worth of food and fervently hoisted the bags onto her two arms. She quickly paced herself down the length of the driveway that was muddy from the rain earlier that day. As she approached the door and began to grab the key from the lanyard around her neck, she hesitated.

Something felt unfamiliar. Her mind began to race as to configure what had changed. She noticed that her living room light was not lit as she usually left it. As she opened the door struggling slightly, she rushed and threw the bags down onto the kitchen countertop. It didn’t really help that her and her father were doing some renovations to the house; it gave off a cold and desolate vibe even with warmth escaping the front door.

Her dad greeted her at the top of the staircase, “ I don’t know why the streetlamp is goin’ like that out there”.

“I know! It’s not that big a deal but someone should come and fix it. Next time, could you leave the living room light on for me pops? I almost died!” She offered a pleading smile.

“Jukomei, this is my house, now what?” He joked sarcastically.

She grunted begrudgingly and began putting away the food in the unfinished pantries and refrigerator. Jukomei washed her hands and pre-heated the oven for their supreme pizza around 12:15AM.

After all was done, the pizza was nice and perfectly crispy with seasoned turkey sausage, bell peppers, onions and olives. Jukomei served her 75 years young father a couple slices with an alcoholic root beer. She’d listen to her father rant on about his unloving mother, disrespectful sisters and financial opportunities all wrapped in politics. Despite there not being much room for her to speak, she was happy to be home from California amidst the COVID-19 pandemic to bond with her dad. After hearing the same stories from her papa Jay, she listlessly went into routine. Jukomei was exhausted. At 27, she felt great to be a business owner and contractor for the federal government as a prosecutor. She and Yael represented the elderly who had been exploited by hospice care employees and family members. The program was known as The Long Term Care Smith Program (LTCSP).

“What’s the deal Yael?” As she rose from her dead sleep and accepted the incoming call at 2:30AM.

“Are you dressed, woman? Get your files together because I’m picking you up now!”

“Why, what’s happened?”

“Jamie Timmons. 79. Dementia. He wasn’t very talkative but had those kind eyes, remember? His hospice caregiver Danielle Parker called me twenty minutes ago to inform me of his death. She said that he was found outside tucked into some evergreens in his Decatur estate.” Divulged Yael.

“Hmm, how is that possible when he’s in a wheelchair? I’m overlooking his file now.” Followed Jukomei.

“I asked the same thing. She said that she had just returned from picking her children up from school and making them dinner and had seen him early that morning to bathe and have breakfast and lunch with him. When she returned to the Timmons estate around 8:30PM last night to have dinner with Mr. Timmons, the front door of the home was unlocked. ”

“OooooOoOo. Interesting” Jukomei smiled gleefully over their call turned FaceTime, rubbing her hands together maniacally.

“Get this Ko.” Yael slowed down and lowered his tone, signaling to Jukomei the severity of the situation. “When the medics arrived to turn him over and pull him from the evergreens, he had a deathgrip on a little black book that took them five minutes to pry from his cold hands.”

“What the hell?” Jukomei whispered, totally immersed in Yael’s information.

“There’s more Komei. Why were you in the …” Click. The phone sounded and the lights of the house went dark. Jukomei was sitting up straight in her bed. She quickly peaked from the window to see if her father’s car was there but it wasn’t. She assumed he was out chauffeuring, like he usually would at this time. She quickly threw on some sweatpants and an athletic shirt.

She suddenly realized something was amiss at the window.

She looked out again where the flickering lamp post shone down on a black vehicle parked in the driveway of the vacant house next door. She immediately flew down the two flights of stairs to her office space and grabbed her Beretta M9, just in case.

As she ascended the short case of steps, she checked the front door again to see if her father had returned. When she didn’t see his dark grey Nissan Altima in the driveway, she strategically moved toward the living room area where the french doors led to the backyard.

Without a second thought, she shone her phone light in the same direction as her weapon. Scanning slowly from right to left as the deafening silence fell over her. Not a single hair on her was raised in angst. She breathed deeply in, inhaling the moist, cool air. She exhaled as silently as a sniper. Her previous job as a medical expert witness kept her on her toes all too well.

As she panned left towards the slope of the creek, she could see a small beam of light and heard tiny crisp crunches from the foliage of surrounding trees.

Abruptly, she heard a loud thud from behind that sent her crumbling to the ground.

“Wake up Zamokei!” She heard trickling into her consciousness as she awoke. It was the sound of her father’s voice and her loving nickname. There were short beeping noises accompanied with his voice. She attempted to shake her head into an awakened state but the pitch blackness remained.

“Mr. Wells, I think she needs more rest” Yael spoke softly.

As hard as Jukomei fought to awaken herself, she slipped back into sleep.

24 hours later, Jukomei roused herself to consciousness. Before she could see, she could feel the pressure of needles in her arms, the beeping of the heart monitor and various medical equipment materializing in her reality. When her eyelids were light enough to lift, she could see her partner Yael slumped across from her in a chair. She attempted to call his name but her throat and lungs felt singed. She felt the chapness of her lips. It was as if she had spent several days in the Mojave desert. She began to breathe deeply and move sporadically.

Yael heard the rattling of the squeaky bed frame. His eyes popped open with genuine concern for Jukomei’s safety. “Komei! Relax. Are you ok? What do you need?” He searched for her response. Jukomei opened her mouth and pointed at her throat.

“Water?” Yael questioned. Jukomei nodded yes.

Yael poured her a room temperature glass of water, knowing that the cold ice water would only tighten her throat. He approached her bedside and posed the cup to her lips as she struggled to sip down the water. After three solid gulps, Yael heard the low hum of her voice.

“Don’t speak yet. Let me fill you in. After your phone disconnected, I called you eleven times. I texted you twenty times. I was only 15 minutes away from you. So I called your dad. He was dropping off some customers downtown and I told him that I randomly got disconnected from you and hadn’t heard from you. He was certain you were fine but I felt it Komei. He told me he was headed back immediately but that was 40 minutes away. I rushed over to you, and saw the house was pitch black. I rushed to the front door but it was locked. So I went around back with my phone light and saw you in a pool of your own blood knocked out….. Ju Komei… I thought you were dead, woman. I rushed you here and called your dad on the way. All of your family came to see you this morning but you were sleeping.

Jukomei was sitting up at this point, horrified and sincerely sorry for causing so much distress for her family and friends. She still hadn’t uttered a single word.

“Thank you.” Jukomei whispered in a raspy voice. “I- I don’t know what happened. It’s still a little hazy.” Jukomei tentatively recounted the details to Yael.

“Don’t worry Ko. We will figure out who did this. We know why though now. Mr. Timmons wrote you into his living will as the beneficiary of his estate and his “small savings of $20,000”.

He wrote on and on about you in ink and quill, your kindness and his genuine love for you like a daughter. He also exposed the manipulative behavior of his son Kensington and ex-wife Brenda.” Yael explained. Jukomei was stupefied. Her mind began racing as to why she would be written into a living will by someone who barely spoke to her. She only saw Mr. Timmons once a week or twice at the most. Her mind began categorizing the possible suspects as the caregiver, family and groundskeepers came into question. “I’ve already reported this information to the authorities and have requested time off for you. This should be wrapped up in no time.” Yael's voice softened in Jukomei’s ears as she drifted back to sleep.

When she awoke again close to 1:30PM, she heard the door of the hospital room open. In walked Yael and her primary care physician and close friend Angela Bett.

“Whew girl! You almost had me cross to the spirit realm to come get you! How are you feeling love?” Asked Dr. Bett

“So much better A.B. Thank you for taking such good care of me.” Jukomei expressed lovingly.

“Yea, yea.” joked Dr. Bett, “I know you tryna butter me up so you can get out of here earlier than your three day admission. You’re lucky you’re in such good hands, otherwise I’d deny.” Dr. Bett explained looking vigorously back and forth at Yael and Jukomei, hinting at their undeniable connection.

“It worked right? Ok! Get me out. Thank youuuu!” Jukomei hurried.

“Ugh!” fumed Dr. Bett “You both irk me so!”

After completing the paperwork to be released and a quick change of clothes, Jukomei and Yael left motivated.

They arrived at Jukomei’s home to revisit the scene, since they had about four hours before meeting with Ms. Parker.

Her father was out again, chauffeuring as Jukomei could tell by the absence of his vehicle. They both immediately headed for the backyard to investigate the area. They approached from the right side, which was the initial area Jukomei scanned when she opened the french doors to her backyard last. She led Yael to the area where she saw light and heard the steps. As they traversed the fallen leaves they looked for shoe prints but only found nubs that looked as if someone had tip-toed as to not leave the shoe print.

After about 10 minutes of looking near the sloping creek, Jukomei found a torn piece of notebook paper that had been smudged from the moisture and rain. “Yael, come look at this!” She shouted.

“That’s a piece from my father’s notebook.” Mumbled Yael.

“Yea. And it says something about a series of birthmark murders. Wait, your who? …”

*SMACK*

“I tried.” Gritted Yael.