Chapter 3
Part 3
My husband joined the detectives from the criminal investigation team in a huddle. The whiteboard displayed pictures of my body, along with notes about what they found. Important details were circled.
“The DNA test results are in,” one officer announced. “It doesn’t match any criminal‘ s identity. This woman clearly doesn’t have a criminal record.”
“We also checked missing persons reports, but no pregnant women are matching her age and description.”
An officer furrowed his brow, finding it odd. “The victim has been missing for a couple of days. Why wouldn’t anyone report a pregnant woman missing?”
“Didn’t she have any family?”
My husband clicked his pen, circling the word ‘child” on the whiteboard.
“We can’t identify her yet,” he said. “But if we can find the baby the murderer cut open and run a DNA test, the results might lead us to the father and then to her identity.”
Tears welled up, blurring my vision as I crouched by the trash can. My invisible hand, desperate and trembling, reached for the fake fetus, but it passed right through.
I could never touch it.
Our child was exactly right there….
The child you once desired the most…..
This doll, this cruel prank you believed it to be, held the very clue you sought, but you tossed it aside like garbage…. Next, my husband wrote down the words ‘dismemberment scene‘ and circled them. There was not much blood in the sewer, indicating the murderer just left the body there as a dumping site.
Most murderers took their victims apart in a place they knew well, somewhere they felt safe. They might even go back there later. Finding where the body was cut up would be a huge break in the case.
He then circled the words “left ear‘ and added a question mark.
“We checked the sewer high and low,” an officer said, “but no sign of the victim’s left ear or the other pieces. Looks like the murderer didn’t dump everything here.”
“Why get rid of them separately? Maybe there’s something on that ear, a mark that could tell us the victim‘ s identity.” Upon hearing this, my husband stopped short and frowned in confusion. He stared intently at the words “left ear written on the board.
I subconsciously reached up and touched my left earlobe. There, a small red mole. Jayden used to love pinching them, so he’d definitely recognize this mark.
“The murderer performed a brutal, forced surgery, removing the fetus,” someone said, “but didn’t kill the victim right away. Instead, they inserted some kind of powder and tortured her for days before mercilessly ending her life. This points towards a deep–seated hatred for the victim or her family.”
“Drug powder… revenge…”
One officer’s eyes shifted toward my husband. “Captain Williams, could this be revenge? Maybe a drug dealer we arrested is holding a grudge and getting back at us? That’s why they tortured the victim and dumped the body in our
sewer system to taunt us….”
“That doesn’t make sense,” another officer interrupted. “No one in the station has a pregnant wife who’s missing. Plus, wouldn’t a family member report her missing?”
A flicker of realization crossed my husband” s widened eyes but then vanished just as quickly as brushed it off with a shake of his head.
Jayden, did something just click for you? Remember when I told you I was pregnant? Back then, you dismissed it as a ploy to win you
back. You thought it was just a lie fueled by my jealousy of your past love.
Too bad, you missed another crucial clue. Who in the entire police station would drug dealers hate the most? Jayden, my husband, it was you.
Had your heart not been made of ice, the clues that scattered like breadcrumbs might have led you home. A simple visit home, that was all it took
He was stunned for a moment before returning to focus on his work. He split the officers into teams, each with a specific job. One team rushed to check on missing pregnant women, another team searched for the first crime scene and the missing body parts and the last team went to hospitals to look for records of pregnant women matching the
Chapter 3
description.
In addition, they even called in experts to put my head back together. It was crushed so badly that it did not even look. human anymore. These experts could use things like soft plastic and details from my bones, age, and leftover tissue to reconstruct my face, kind of like a mold based on science. Once they fixed my skull, they could use it to figure out my identity by matching it with ID records in the police computer system. However, it would take some time to put the pieces back together.
My husband rubbed his temples, looking exhausted. At that moment, his phone buzzed and a soft smile played on his lips as he saw the caller ID.
“Jay, I’m so scared….”
“Where are you
you? Alright. Stay put and lock the windows. If you’re scared, turn on all the lights and wait for me. I’m on my way back,” Jayden gently reassured.
He hung up and glanced at the clock. It was almost 10 p.m.
“Alright everyone, head home and get some rest. We can pick things up tomorrow.”
A wave of despair crashed over me. My husband, a notorious workaholic, would often disappear for days on end
during investigations. I never dared to interrupt him. Yet, a single call from her, and he would drop everything to be by her side.
It was painfully clear that… in his heart, I would never measure up.
