A MURDER IN SUNNYDALE
Chapter 1: ‘Scene Of The Crime(s)’
“Not very pretty, is it?” Captain Wilkens muttered as he unzipped the body bag that held Holden Webster’s now cold, dead body. Buffy wrinkled her slightly crooked nose in disgust, “yuck, can I just say gross,” she hissed as she glanced at her partner Xander, who looked like he was about to be sick. Captain Wilkens, Buffy and Xander’s superior on the Police force shook his head and shrugged, “yeah, gross,” he agreed with his female Lieutenant’s summation. “Of course,” the Captain continued in a rather weak voice, “the woman’s body isn’t quite as ‘gross’ really.” The man unzipped the other body bag to reveal the body of Katerina McClay, Webster’s once very alive, lovely mistress. Fortunately, the woman had been shot in the stomache before she bled to death, not in the head. Holden Webster, on the other hand, had not been so fortunate, since half of his once ‘lovely’ head was missing. All in all, however,with all of the blood that was spattered about the beautiful penthouse living room, it seemed like some grotesque Wes Craven or Rob Zombie film. Not a gorgeous, one-of-a-kind apartment unit in idealistic Sunnydale, California. ‘So much for Dawnie’s ideal Sunnydale family utopia,’ Buffy mused as she glanced, reluctantly, back at Katerina.
“I don’t know,” Xander mumbled as he took a gulp of the litre of Pepsi Cola he held, “might have been kinder if the killer had just offed the woman in the head, too. Faster anyway. Webster must have died fairly quickly, right? But the woman? She had to have sufferred longer, to bleed to death from a stomache wound?” Buffy had to hand it to Xander, he was right about this one, “yeah,” she nodded in agreement, “he’s right Captain Wilkens. Poor Katerina, it probably took at least 15, maybe 20 minutes before she died from the gun shot.” Their superior, Theodore Wilkens, nodded in agreement, “shocking, but true, Harris,” the man chuckled, “I mean you being ‘right’ for once. That’s the shocking thing,” he added. “It probably would have been less painful for the woman, had she have died instantly from a bullet to the brain, instead of to the gut.” Buffy shook her head in exhasperation, “okay, we get it. Whoever shot these two was a little more merciful, kind of anyway, to Webster. But,” she scowled, “what we need to know is who, why and when exactly did it happen?”
“Well,” Captain Wilkens pursed his lips and frowned, thoughtfully, “there is a survelance camera, and tape, that the apartment complex keeps. That should give us an idea of just who was here last, at least in the front door of the complex, but then again, it’s not like Holden Webster didn’t have a number of enemies. I mean, he wasn’t the most popular guy on the block. So, where do we start kids?” Buffy did not particularly like Captain Wilkens or his sarcasm, but she did respect him, most of the time anyway. About this, though? The man was right on. Holden Webster had more enemies then most normal people had friends and anyone of the local ‘baddies’ could have had a hand in his death. “You know, Captain,” Buffy began carefully as she surveyed first Holden’s mushed face, then Katerina’s entact one, “there’s one thing I don’t get.” Both the Captain and Xander gave her their best ‘huh’ looks. “Why kill Katerina?” Buffy reasoned vocally. “I mean, why not, if this was a power hit or something, why not do it in a public place? Or at least at Webster’s private Men’s Club. Everyone knows about that place? Why here, now?”
“Now see,” Xander chimed in with his own chuckle, “this is why my partner, the lovely Buffy Summers and I get the big bucks and all the perks! We ask the questions, do the math, make those snap decisions that…” Buffy shot Xander a warning look then made herself scan Webster’s devestated face and head, again. “Whoever did this,” she surmised as she cringed at the gruesome sight before her, “was in it for something more then just ‘power’ I’m sure of it. This was revenge, almost maybe out of jealousy or something like that? Had to be. A scorned lover of Webster’s, maybe?” She turned to her companions, then touched Katerina’s body bag with her latex gloved hand. “I mean, let’s face it, Holden Webster was the epitome of ‘playboy’ for years. After all,” Buffy nodded her head in self assurance, “he ran call girls, long before he ever got into the other facets of big business here in SunnyD. Must have made lots of love connections that way, right? Not only that, but for some bizarre reason, Holden was one of the most eligible bachelors in Sunnydale. Wasn’t it only recently that he settled down with Katerina McClay?” Xander nodded his dark head, “that’s right. Old Holden, he was the ‘Man’ when it came to the ladies all right.” Buffy felt her skin crawl a little, ‘Geez,’ she thought, a little queasy to her stomache, ‘it’s like Xand admires this fuck or something.’
“Captain Wilkens,” a good looking young police officer, Buffy recognized Officer Doyle, broke into the conversation. “There’s a door man, for the complex here. We’ve questioned him,” Doyle continued, “he saw something. Maybe important, maybe not, but…” Buffy spied an unobvious, rather different looking dark-haired man with Officer Doyle. “This is Warren Meers, Sir,” Doyle pointed at the door man, “he may have seen the last person who visited Webster and his lady up here.” Warren Meers was one of those guys, Buffy realized right off, who would always be a ‘wannabe’ or an also ran. He was not good looking, not in a conventional sense, but he had possibilities, at least in an intelligence kind of way. “I, I saw a woman,” this Warren fella began weakly, “a young woman. She was here, just a while before the regular maid found poor Miss McClay, and Webster.”
“Tell us more,” Xander ordered with masculine authority. “Well,” Meers continued, hesitantly, “she, the woman, she’s been here before. I remember her. She’s a young twenty-something, dark-haired, slim and kind of cute, I guess. Not pretty, well, not beautiful, anyway, not like some ladies. Anyway, I believe the woman’s name is Amy? Like I said, she’s been here before. Once or twice when Miss McClay may have been gone from the penthouse.” Buffy felt her stomache drop, literally, as she heard the description from this Warren Meers. “Mr. Meers,” Buffy waved the door man to come closer to her, “this ‘Amy’ was she about my size, maybe a couple of inches taller? Near skinny?” Meers nodded his head in confirmation, “not near as pretty as you, Officer Summers,” he smiled. “But cute, like I said. I know Mr. Webster referred to her as Amy, at least that much.” Buffy felt her uneasiness grow by leaps and bounds, “this Amy,” she mumbled softly, “did Mr. Webster ever mention her last name? St. Claire, perhaps?” The dark-haired door man frowned in thought for a moment, “no Maam,” he shook his head with confidence, “I only heard the first name of Amy mentioned.”
“What is it Buff?” Xander asked with a serious expression in his dark eyes. “I don’t know, Xand,” Buffy answered, honestly, “it’s just…” The female Lieutenant stepped away from the four nearby men and tried to remember something, from the past. Her past and many others. Buffy had started as a street cop, but that had never been enough for her. She wanted more. More cases, more tough cases, that is, and more what? Glory? Pressure and emotional pain? Anyway, whatever had driven Buffy, in the past or present, she had somehow made her way, way too young, to the Vice Squad of the Sunnydale Police Department. That had been over five years before, nearly seven years before, actually. Back then, Buffy worked with a male cop, a good cop by the name of Thomas Ford. He was a good guy, Thomas, cute, available and smart, compassionate even. Buffy shook her blonde head and tried to remember, clearly, the facts of that case, the one that had introduced them to the waif-like creature, Amy St. Claire. The poor, lost little girl, really, would haunt Buffy’s nightmares, and Ford’s for a long, long time.
Buffy never gave herself the credit of compassion. She had always been very cynical, even more so after she’d married Riley and lost their baby. It was Buffy’s fault, she had no doubt, the miscarriage, no matter what anyone said. At the moment, this moment, standing in Holden Webster’s exquisite, if blood spatterred living room, Buffy tried to remember the facts about Amy St. Claire and her connection to Holden Webster. Webster, who had been anything but compassionate and kind, started his criminal career by running whores for a living. Not your average, street walking, hooker type sluts, no, but high class, much better then average call girl types. Now, if Webster had just been content to manage young, twenty-something or even thirty-something girls in his stable, then that would have been at least somewhat ‘acceptable.’ However, Holden Webster was a real entrepeneur, from the get go. He knew what his customers wanted and needed. This is how poor Amy St. Claire, sixteen-years-old at the time, got mixed up with Holden.
There is always a client, to a pimp anyway, who is sick enough, distorted or disgusting enough to want or need a young girl. Men like that, and some women, didn’t give a fuck whether the girl in question was under age, or naïve or whatever. However, these same ‘pillars of society’ who wanted the underage girl in mind, were above hitting the streets and picking up mere hookers for hire. No, that kind of snatch was beneath these types. So, enter Holden Webster and his organization of quality whores; age, size and even gender was no problem. Amy St. Claire had fallen in, at the ripe old age of sixteen, with Holden and his horde of deviants. On a sting, back seven years before, that’s when Buffy first encountered Amy, and some other lost souls in Webster’s world. It was then that Buffy Summers first noticed Amy and her innocent stare, her lost little girl look. For whatever reason, Buffy never forgot that girl the Vice squad picked up, along with a very young boy, Andrew was his name. After the bust, Buffy had gone home, to her husband, Riley, and proceeded to throw up for over thirty minutes.
“Buff?” Xander’s deep timbre broke into her reverie, “you know this gal, this Amy. Don’t you?” She nodded, reluctantly, “I think so,” Buffy whispered. “She, if it’s her, she was one of Holden’s ring of teen whores, from years ago. My partner, Ford and me, we picked her up in the sting. I’m not sure, but…” Buffy swallowed hard then tried to continue, “she got involved with Webster, personally, a couple of years after that. They lived together, I think, for a a while, anyway, a short while. Thought she’d left town, really, took Andrew Price with her. They were friends, at least she said they were.” Buffy felt the bile rise in her throat, “oh, forget it,” she hissed. “It’s just a bad memory from a long time ago.” Captain Wilkens, the stalwart detective he was would not let it go, “Lt. Doyle,” he barked, “take Mr. Meers down to headquarters. Have him look at some pictures of female perps, from crimes before.” Wilkens eyed his best detective, Buffy Summers, warily, “Summers, we need to talk,” he mumbled to her.
“It’s not her,” Buffy insisted to her Captain, a little unsure maybe. “We have to be sure, Summers,” Wilkens gave his Lieutenant that authoritive nod of his. “If Meers can’t identify this Amy St. Claire, then so be it. But, if he can…” Buffy felt ill to her tummy. It wasn’t that she cared, not really, about the girl, well, now the young woman, Amy, but there was something about her. Buffy had always written off her concern for Amy St. Claire as a kind of transferance thingy. Amy, after all, could have been almost a mirror image of Buffy’s young sister, Dawn, when she was younger anyway. “Captain,” Buffy muttered, “Amy, she isn’t the ‘perp’ type, more the victim type, I swear.” Her superior nodded, almost sympathetically, Buffy thought, “I know, Lieutenant,” he sighed, “but we have to cover all of our bases.” With a shrug of her shoulders, Buffy followed Xander out of the ruined penthouse and down to the street below. “How about lunch?” Xander offerred as they hit the sidewalk.
Over the most disgusting sandwiches in the world, Buffy and Xander discussed the case at hand. “So,” Xander mumbled with a mouth full of bread and tuna, “this Amy chick. You do know her?” Buffy shrugged, trying to give an indifferent stance, “somewhat,” she muttered, taking a sip of her now cold coffee. “Let’s talk about something else, huh, Xand?” Buffy requested as she took a reluctant bite of her egg salad sandwich. “Like,” she glared up at her partner, “you and Anya? What gives there?” Xander blushed and actually set his half eaten sandwich on his plate. “Oh, you know Anya,” he sighed as he wiped his mouth with his napkin. “She’s into commitment, but I’m still a free spirit, you know.” He hung his head and avoided Buffy’s grim stare.
“Xander,” Buffy tossed her own napkin on the table with a sigh, “you are not a free spirit. You, my friend, are a coward at heart. You love Anya, but you’re afraid to admit it. To commit, right?” Xander flinched a bit then frowned at Buffy, “you been taking lessons from our Willow Rosenberg, class shrink?” he mumbled nervously. “Okay,” Buffy sighed again in frustration, “let’s talk about the case.”
Later that evening, Buffy wondered into her lonely one bedroom apartment. It was neat, immaculate, really, and well decorated, but lonely, all the same. When her and Riley were married, Buffy remembered, they owned a nice little condo, close to the beach. But that was then and this was now. Riley, to his credit, had wanted Buffy to quit the force, her dream job, when she first found out she was pregnant with their child. Buffy had been stubborn, defiant and insistent. Oh, she remembered well, the argument she and Riley had had, back then:
‘Flashback’
“You can’t be serious, babe,” Riley Finn was admonishing his wife, Buffy. “You’re two months pregnant, you cannot go out on duty. Get a fuckin’ desk job, for God’s sake. Anything but actual street duty!” Buffy had been sitting on her neon green bean bag chair, her honey blonde hair up in a loose bun, her mouth in a tight, defiant pout. “I’ll be fine, for Heaven’s sake, Riley,” she’d insisted. “I’ll do street duty, for just another month or so, no big, really.” Riley had just thrown his hands up in defeat and gone into their bedroom, slamming their door as he went. Unfortunately, it had turned out to be a very ‘big big’ really. Buffy had been on a case, with Thomas Ford, just a week or so later. She was covering for Ford, not unusual, really, but some cranked up gang banger had decided to play ‘Gunsmoke’ and took a shot at her partner. Buffy had, on reflex, jumped in front of Ford and pushed him out of the way. The bullet, meant for her partner, hit Buffy instead. It wasn’t a mortal hit, as it turned out, at least not for Buffy. But, for the poor little baby?
‘Present Day’
Riley never forgave her, Buffy was fully aware of that. That’s why she wasn’t surprised, later when her husband of less then two years asked her for a divorce. Which, she granted without a second thought. Buffy wanted Riley to be happy and she knew that he would never, ever be happy with her, again. So, she had signed the death certificate to her marriage and let Riley go. Now, she, Buffy was alone, most of time, anyway, and by choice. It was almost 8:00 PM and Buffy was on her second Cosmo martini. ‘No one should drink alone,’ she mused sadly as she sipped the lovely magenta concoction. ‘Or,’ she thought with a smirk, ‘is that no one should be alone?’
A/N: That was a long chapter, but I could not stop writing! I’ve decided to work on the finish of ‘Rebel Hearts’ a little more. Another chapter and a nice Epilogue. In the mean time, here’s Chapter 1 of my new fic; ‘A Murder In Sunnydale’ and I hope you read and review. Thank you. Luv, Spuf
squawks
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!