A Final Call by Eliot Parker

Author:Eliot Parker
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Eliot Parker
Published: 2021-11-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 29

Stacy looked over at her partner, who had dialed a number on his cell phone. “I asked Charlie Harris and Chad Means to track down Maria Fernandez. I don’t want them to approach her—just find out if she has any friends staying with her.” Austin cradled the cell phone under his right shoulder. “Maybe her friends run in the same group as Will Akers’ friends.”

“Maybe.”

Stacy turned her Camry down East 71st Street. The Fairfax neighborhood was on the east side of Cleveland, and it roughly bounded between Euclid Avenue to the north and Woodland Avenue to the south.

There is a total of thirty-six neighborhoods in Cleveland, Ohio. Each one is as diverse and unique as the residents that call each neighborhood home. Unfortunately, Miguel Olivo was found in one of the city’s most undesirable places—the Fairfax neighborhood.

The Fairfax neighborhood has a rich history. Cleveland’s most iconic institutions, including the Cleveland Clinic and the Karamu House, the nation’s oldest African American theater, are located there. Unfortunately, the area had seen crime take hold as many factory jobs that supported a once-thriving shipping and steel industry were gone, leaving a vacuum for crime to take over as poverty increased.

Stacy and Austin didn’t say much as they drove through Fairfax. Austin had called dispatch to find out any additional information on the call made last night.

He dabbed the end of his pen on the tip of his tongue as he dropped his cradled phone from his neck and let it land in his lap. He furiously scribbled some notes in his notepad.

“The call came in from a woman who was walking her dog. Her name was Laquita Moore. She told the 911 dispatcher the same cab had been sitting on the side of the street for two days. When she approached, she smelled a terrible odor.”

Stacy leaned over the steering wheel as she saw Woodland Cemetery appear from the right side of the windshield. Turning the car onto Quincy Avenue, she saw the clarion of circling lights pulsing red and blue beams onto the chipped asphalt and the sides of homes that bracketed the road. The perimeter had already been established. There were several cruisers on the scene along with an ambulance and the Cuyahoga County Coroner’s van.

Stacy parked her car in the middle of the street. As she got out, a thin, baby-faced officer with protruding ears approached, but before he could even raise his hand, Stacy had flashed him her shield. Austin followed when the young officer cut a look at him.

“What have we got?”

“It’s a mess,” a baritone voice boomed, cutting through the franticly busy but eerily still scene. Kendall Jackson approached, his uniform perfectly coifed. Stacy noticed his polished shield, with Corporal arched above it, shone against the rotating blue beams of the cruisers’ lights. His face was creased with worry, and his eyes held the energy of someone that had seen something horrific.

Stacy arched an eyebrow. “Kendall.”

“Hey, Lieutenant.” He grinned, but the expression defaulted back into his thick lips pressed tightly against his face.

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