Nothing To Lose: Part 6

After looping Danny in, the case takes Jonas back to the scene, and a surprise visitor helps establish a new scenario worth looking into.

Part 6

Jonas prayed he'd done the right thing by bringing Danny into the mix and sharing the details about his medical condition. If he was wrong and Danny couldn't be trusted, it could be both the end of keeping his secret and the end of his career. He didn't need Amanda to know he was ill and out on the streets. As the chief, she'd have to pull him off the street and desk him. There was no way she'd take the liability of having someone going through cancer and suffering from the drugs, out in the public eye.  

The day turned up no new leads into Danica's death. Jonas was still waiting on her records from work, and her online records were being scoured for anything that might point them in the right direction. While he'd settled one problem in front of him, he was still frustrated that he hadn't found anything more to help solve the case. The longer it went, the less likely it was to break in the near future.  

After leaving the station, Jonas drove across the city. The riverfront area was starting to flood, and people were out sandbagging along the waterfront areas. He cringed at what was to come of the weather patterns if they didn't get a break. When it happened last time, the area took over a decade to recover from the mess, the loss of revenue, and the destruction. If it happened again, he feared the area wouldn't be able to recover.  

But the flooding aside, Jonas had problems in front of him. Working his way through the downtown area, heading toward the Montgomery Ct. Subdivisions, Jonas wanted to revisit the crime scene. The things that were bothering him weren't going away, and it all started at the scene.   

When he turned into the cul-de-sac, the yellow tape around the perimeter of her house was still there; Jonas scanned the area. Water in the cul-de-sac was rising. The drainage systems weren't working at the same pace as the rains continually coming in over the region. It wouldn't be long before the cul-de-sac was under feet of water at the rate things were flooding.   

"Ah, life along the rivers..."  

Rolling through a foot of water, Jonas came to a stop in front of the house. It had only been a couple of days, but the neighborhood was more deserted-looking. He wondered if people were pulling out early, before the floods got bad. Looking around, the homes were sandbagged. The driveways, near the garages, were sandbagged.  

As he got out of his car, Jonas stared at Danica's place. An eerie chill washed over him. With his flashlight in hand, he approached the scene of his friend's murder, feeling uncertain that he should be the one to take another look. He was already struggling to maintain objectivity. Now, he was going to force himself to look again at the horrors he'd already seen.   

The front door was taped off, and there were two locks installed. Installing a padlock over a crime scene wasn't foolproof. Jonas knew how to work on a lock and carried a pic set for such occasions. Even with the trepidation he was feeling, it took him little time to get past the two locks on the door. In less than two minutes, he had the door open and was standing in the doorway, looking at where her body was found.  

His hyperfocus wasn't on the scene. That wasn't his thing. Jonas's skill was getting into the mind of the victim. He focused on where they lived, seeing things that might be unnoticed by others and barely detectable. What was missing, out of place, or previously unknown about the victim often told a tale. His intuitive side allowed him to "talk" to the dead. But he'd never before been so distracted as he was.  

Come on, Danica. What am I missing? Jonas's thoughts echoed in his mind, repeatedly. He knew she'd not answer him. Not directly. But if there was something he knew about her that led him to a clue about what happened in the moments before she died, he had to try.  

Stepping in, the house was dark. Only the dim lights from the street shone through the front windows, and his flashlight made anything visible. The eeriness of it, reminiscent of a horror movie or his darkest fears, kept him on edge. He stood where the body was, imagining it was still at his feet. As he looked down, he could see her cold, lifeless eyes staring back.  

"What happened to you," he wondered aloud.  

The girl he knew was innocent. She was harmless. Beautiful, full of life, with an infectious smile and personality. That was how people described Danica. To him and Amanda, she was sis. Their bond made them like a family. Now, he and Amanda were responsible for catching her killer and grieving.  

"This is so fucked up," he loudly admitted to no one.  

He could have been anywhere other than there. And the urge to escape was ever-present. Why wouldn't he want to? The doctors just gave him chances of living to retirement age, and they weren't good. Why wouldn't he just live his life? Jonas was a creature of habit, and other than work, now this was all he had.  

"Death is my game I guess," he shrugged to himself, reminding himself that what he did was deal with the ugliness of life that others couldn't.  

"Is it a gift?" 

Jonas turned, seeing a shadow-obscured figure behind him. He pulled his piece and aimed, warning the other person in the room to freeze.  

"Don't you move," yelled Jonas.  

Danny put his hands in the air. As Jonas stood there, his 1911 aimed at his head, Danny nervously stood, his hands shaking in the air. The look in Jonas's eyes was cold. He wasn't flinching, almost terrifying.  

"Easy partner," Danny said softly. "I'm thinking we both had the same idea."  

Tearing through Danica's was both their plans. Danny had a different idea on how to proceed. He wanted to tear into her life. Figure out her final hours. See what she'd been doing before she was killed and maybe find where she caught the killer's attention. He had never seen Jonas examine a crime scene, getting into the head of the victim.  

"Did you follow me?"  

Danny chuckled. He'd looked up the address after hearing the flood alerts around town. If the flooding rose into the homes, there wasn't going to be anything new they could find. He wanted a second look to see if the crime scene techs missed anything. Danny remembered the initial response, and he knew Jonas had reason to be distracted.  

"No, I just thought I'd put in some overtime and take a second look around," he admitted. "But if you want to be alone."  

"She wasn't killed here," offered Jonas as he walked toward the back of the house.  

Jonas was looking around. Danica was a creature of habit, but there were things out of place. It wasn't usual for her to leave things out. Everything had a proper place. Even the dishes. Living alone, she would use a glass or a plate, but her obsessive-compulsive disorder wouldn't let her leave it out. And yet, there was a dirty glass with her lipstick on it, and a plate sitting next to the sink.  

"That's interesting," suggested Danny.  

Jonas asked him to explain why. Danny was still a patrolman the day the case landed on him. He was intuitive and smart, but did he see the clues the way Jonas did?  

"Is this a test?"  

"Everything is until you earn your stripes."  

They both realized she'd been interrupted. For an obsessive-compulsive, to leave something out like that, something happened she hadn't planned for.  

"So, did she have a visitor? Was there a noise that caught her attention?"  

What was she doing? Jonas continued to slowly walk through the house, looking at all the pictures, trinkets, and keepsakes that Danica had displayed over the past years. What he hadn't seen were pictures of her recently. She was a shutterbug and known for capturing her memories and framing them.  

As he moved through the house, realizing there wasn't anything there, Jonas's energy faded. It'd been a couple of days, and there wasn't a single clue to have emerged. He turned around, looking for Danny, who had disappeared. As he looked for his young partner, a light turned on in the kitchen.  

Danny emerged from the basement. They weren't finding what they hoped, but that didn't mean that they were giving up. But if the house flooded with the rest of the neighborhood, they risked losing clues.  

"People that have lived around her forever and are on roads or close to flooding zones have sump pumps in their basements," he told Jonas. "Her generator has a full charge. Maybe it'll get through the storm surge, and we won't risk something being contaminated."  

"Why don't we call it a day?"  

Jonas was right. They weren't finding a new lead; it was getting later, and the roads were already starting to flood between Montgomery Ct and the downtown area. Danny nodded in agreement.  

"Your buddy have this street named for him," Danny asked, referring to Cal Montgomery.  

Cal knew Danica as well as Amanda and Jonas. The three of them once frequented the club together, before it became more and more apparent that Cal wasn't the most legitimate business owner in town. Amanda had political aspirations. Danica's family was connected. They avoided dealing with Cal because of those issues.  

"That's something to look into," suggested Jonas. "If Cal was behind this development, and someone wanted to bring negative attention to him, murdering a connected resident might do the trick." 

Jonas kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner but was impressed that Danny had put the pieces together. Cal's recent expansions had drawn quite a bit of attention to the Montgomery name. If someone wanted to hurt that, this was a good way of going about it.  

As the two men parted ways for the night, Jonas laughed at the ride Danny was driving. For a patrolman, he was rolling through town in a monster of a truck. But it did get through the water without risking the engine block. Watching Danny pull away, he was envious of the young officer's youth. Then, as Danny's taillights disappeared, Jonas felt the reflex of his stomach starting to turn. Bending over the back of his car, losing the contents of his stomach, he cringed as the crimson-like goo exploded from his mouth.  

The next morning, when Jonas woke up, it was still dark outside. He pushed himself to a seated position. He'd been in bed for six hours but only slept for two hours of that time. The meds were already the hardest part of dealing with cancer. And his body wasn't responding well to extremes.  

Just walking through the high waters on the street, his ankles and feet ached. The exposure to the temperature change had kicked off an almost arthritic effect, causing him to feel pain most of the night. Each time he crossed a leg over another, a pain shot through him. Just the sensation of his own body against another part of him was enough to make him uncomfortable.  

He wiped his eyes, seeing Susan sitting in a chair, reading a book. She'd come over around the time he got home. He was so exhausted that all he could do was order some Italian, have a glass of wine, and then take a hot shower. With her there, it made things nicer.  

Looking at her with her dark-rimmed glasses, her nose in a book, he remembered the feeling of her climbing in the shower behind him. Her body pressed against his as she soaped his back, letting him enjoy the steam and the hot water washing away the grime of the day. While they could never be traditional, he thought to himself how much he'd miss those moments after he was gone.  

"Hey," he said, getting her attention.  

"I brought you a bottle of water, and I set up your pills," she said, pointing to the spot next to his gun and badge.  

He looked, noticing that his cigarettes and the bottle of whiskey he kept on the nightstand were gone. Jonas reached over to the drawer, pulling it out slightly. He smiled, seeing she'd just put them away. She wasn't the controlling type, or the type to insist he changed. Neither of them was naive enough to think changing at this stage was going to matter.  

"Yes, they're still where you can get one if you need it," she smiled as he looked back at her, reaching for the cup of pills with one hand and the bottle with the other.  

After nearly choking down a pharmacy's worth of pills, Jonas thanked her. Seeing the blood coming from his insides had put him in a mood, but she showed up at just the right time. As stoic as he was about the prospect of dying, even Jonas had times he didn't want to be alone.  

As the sun slowly started rising, turning the darkness to a shitty-looking gray sky, Jonas didn't want to go into the office. He reached for a smoke, lit it, and enjoyed the sensation as it filled his lungs. Susan had put her book down, walked over to where he was sitting on the edge of his bed, wearing one of his button-down shirts and black lace panties as she straddled his lap. She took his hand with the smoke in it, moving the butt to her lips. As she inhaled, her adorable green eyes telling the world she had mischievous thoughts, Jonas's cellphone began ringing.  

"Saved by the bell," she said, shrugging as she crawled off lap, giving him a kiss on the cheek.  

Jonas was still shaking his head when she walked out of the room. He answered his phone, his face changing as he listened.