The Memory Therapist - ONC 2020

Chapter Seventeen

"Here?" I ask as Charles pulls into the sketchy looking storage facility that I dumped Madison's body. It's still dark out as he parks by the yellow tape, no hint of the sun coming up over the horizon. He only grunts in reply as he downs his second coffee. 

With that, Charles opens the door and gets out, again expecting that I follow. I feel foolish wearing my clothes from yesterday, and even more foolish for arriving with Charles at this time of night. I don't know how his co-workers are going to take this scene in. I am not sure why I am even giving it a second thought. 

I follow behind Charles as he ducks under the yellow police tape, none of the cops scattered around the scene seeming to care. Perhaps they all know who Charles is. Or perhaps they are all too tired to give a damn who is contaminating their crime scene. That would be nice. 

Multiple portable construction lights have been set up intermittently around the storage unit - the cops are moths drawn to a flame. Simple minded. From being here a few weeks ago, I know that there are no lights or cameras outside the units to aid in the evidence collecting. So what they are all doing standing around chatting at this hour is beyond me. Some people just want to feel important I guess. 

"Maison," a heavy cop greets as we get closer to the unit. Here there are even more cops buzzing around, taking pictures and placing things in evidence bags. It's completely different than when I met up with Charles at the other crime scene. The activity had died down - just shows me how determined Charles is to catch me if he was the last one to leave the scene.

"Olsen," Charles greets back. "This is Dr. Clowd - a Memory Therapist helping me on this case." Olsen only nods offhandedly at the introduction, stroking his grotesque mustache. He either knows who I am already or doesn't give a damn. 

"Thanks for taking my call. As soon as I saw her face, I just knew that she was one of yours." So it was Olsen on the other line, calling to provide the victim to Charles. I wonder how many people are aware of the details of the case - for someone who works alone a lot of people seem to know. 

"In here?" Charles asks, pointing to the unit that is clearly where the body is - it's the hive of activity. Charles is obviously only here to work by his lack of response. Olsen only nods, backing away and returning to some forensic officers. 

Again, I follow behind Charles, letting him take the lead as we enter the unit. It irks me that he has to act in charge when he claims we are partners, but I can't deny that this has its benefits. At least this way at least he won't see my reaction. 

"She's one of ours, no doubt," he proclaims. I can't see the corpse yet as he's standing in the way blocking my view. "Shit," he sighs, finally moving so that I can see the torn up face that was Madison's. 

I run my hand through my hair as I crouch down to inspect the body. "Madison something. Got her ID on her person when we got here," Olsen has approached us again to relay the facts, as if he just remembered he should get us up to speed on the investigation. "Police are at her place, no one is there. Seems like she lives alone. I've already sent some cops to her family - so you won't have to break that news."

"Anything else?" Charles almost seems to sag with relief at being told he doesn't have to inform the parents. 

"She's a junkie - not reported missing. Apparently, it's not unusual for her to be missing for several days." Precisely why I chose her. I just never anticipated that it would take this long to find her. 

"How long has she been here for?" Charles asks. I decide to remain silent to let Charles keep the charade up that he is in charge. He can ask the questions. I already know the answers.