Twelve Days of Trauma by Jasper Joshua West

Author:Jasper Joshua West [West, Jasper Joshua]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-12-01T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

The night was still young, despite the fact that the sun had set a few hours ago. Everything went darker earlier during the winter. Having grown up in a southern clime, I doubted that I would ever get used to it.

As I drove out of the city, I thought about the awkward situation Julie was in. I could understand a local sheriff bullying town officials in a place like this, but surely he wouldn’t be able to cover up something like this. Unless he had some high ranking politicians in his back pocket, that is.

Maybe that was the reason, I mused as I drove past the location she had given me and then pulled the car over a mile or so away. Her directions had led me out of the city, into what looked like it had once been farmland, but it had probably been years since any crops or livestock had been here and it was now being taken over by the nearby forests.

It was tough to move through the thick snow on foot, and I could feel my lungs burning by the time that I could see a small house where trees had been cleared.

The painkillers that had been prescribed were doing their job, although I had a feeling that my foot and ribs would be killing me in the morning. I rested for a moment, then pushed on through the trees to find an old farmhouse. Even in the dark I could see that the small, two-story house was run down. It probably remained from the time when this land had been farmed and it didn’t look like it had been well maintained.

Most of the lights were out, and it looked like nobody was home. I didn’t expect much different, of course, but it was still good to know that there was nobody there to see me peeping.

There were three trucks parked out in front of the house itself, recently cleaned of snow that was still coming down gently. Two looked like a lot of work had been put into making them look as flashy as possible, with large grilles and shiny stickers making them almost impossible to miss.

But it was the third one that caught my attention. It had about as much work as the other two, but the front had been heavily damaged, with a large part of the grill still missing.

I pulled out my phone and checked the license plate against the one from the security camera at the club. They both ended in 4137. I took a handful of pictures, making sure to show as much of the damage as possible before the sound of barking dogs told me that it was time to leave.

As I was hiking back to my car, my phone started buzzing in my pocket.

I looked at the call display. “Julie,” I said, a little out of breath.

“We need to talk,” she said, without preamble. “Can you come down to my place in a bit? I’ll text you the address.

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