Trauma Queen: A NCIS Fanfiction

Chapter Twenty Eight

They found the diary under her bed. It told of her atrocities and her daily battles with her demons. It was a little black book that was full, cover to cover, with scribbles and drops of blood. I bagged the diary in an evidence bag and moved to collect the knife on her bedside table that was wiped clean of her blood.

Penelope Heffron was found dead on her bedroom floor with her wrists cut and an "A" carved into her neck. She was still warm when her mother found her. Upon a first look, the police thought it was a suicide. But the carved letter gave it away. It was the fourth kill.

Her eyes were glassy and she had a terrified look plastered on her face. A look that would haunt me for the rest of my life. She had a few broken fingernails which I assumed was from her trying to fight off her attacker. The nails lay on the ground and I placed them into their own evidence bag.

The most shocking thing about her death was that she was still warm, but there were no blood stains anywhere. Not a single drop of blood was found in her room and there was no distinct chemical spray. There was an apple pie candle lit that choked me when I entered the bedroom.

We spent nearly two hours in the room alone, just taking pictures and surveying the scene. We left no inch of the room unobserved. We left with seven evidence bags and over one hundred photographs.

"Mrs. Heffron?" I asked timidly when I was sent downstairs to interview her.

Kinsey Heffron looked up at me with bloodshot eyes and a tear stained face and wiped a tissue across her cheeks. "Yes?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"Would it be okay if I asked you a few questions?" I walked over to the couch where she was sitting and handed her another tissue.

She thanked me and motioned for me to sit next to her. "Okay."

"Were you home all night?" I felt horrible to be asking her questions when she was grieving over the loss of her daughter.

She shook her head. "No, I arrived home around one in the morning. I was out at a movie with some of my girlfriends."

I scribbled the information down on my notepad. "Did you see Penelope when you came home?"

She nodded. "Yes, I spoke with her and wished her a good night before I went to sleep."

"Was anyone with her?"

"Not that I am aware of. Oh, my Penelope." She held the tissue to her eyes and her body shook. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I understand what you are going through."

"How could you possibly understand? You must be under thirty years old," she spat.

"My family was killed years ago. I know how hard it is to lose the people you love."

She looked at me and sniffled. "Oh. I apologize." She fell silent and stared at the floor.

"Don't apologize. Grief is difficult to deal with. It will be okay though." I thought my words might have helped her, but she broke down in sobs again. I took her hand in mine. "I know it's hard right now. But I need to ask you some questions so we can find whoever did this to her."

"What do you need to know?" She hiccupped and sniffled.

"Did she have a boyfriend?"

"Not that I knew of."

"Did she ever have a boyfriend?"

"She did. It ended a few years ago." I asked for his name. "Hunter Evans."

"Do you know where he lives?" I began to feel my heart race.

"He died a month ago in a car fire." She sighed. "Penelope was devastated. They were very good friends."