"We need a lead on this damn case," my aunt says, slamming a file on Dad's desk.
I poke my head out of my little door, taking my attention away from the microscope slide with my blood on it. Dad doesn't notice me, nor did my aunt. I shake my head, returning my attention to the slide. I can never tell anyone about my condition, not a single soul.
I sigh, writing a few things down, then hiding the file. Sometimes, when I have not come to a conclusion with my problem, I feel like I want to bang my head against my desk. Time for another sample, third one this hour. This time it better come back with something that is useful, like how to keep my problem at bay, I think tying the tornique I've already used twice around my upper left arm.
With in a few seconds, all three vials and slides are sent off to a lab in Bayville, New York.
Dad did know about the vials, but he thought that it was for something that has to with geneaology, one of the fields I'm trying to get a degree in. I rest my head on my arms, not wanting Dad or Aunt Debra to know that most of our success on this case has come from my talents.
"Lexi," Dad calls, though I didn't hear him knock on my 'door'.
"Yeah," I respond after sipping on the Cherry Coke that I bought over an hour ago.
"You've been quiet for the last hour and a half, I'm getting worried about you," he says.
I nod, then I shake my head.
"Alexia Amanda, answer me, please," Dad says, walking over to my desk.
"Dad, I'm fine. Just geneaology class work," I say through gritted teeth, as I get a vision about the case.
Dad nods, leaving me alone, thinking that it's just nerves getting to me.
I can see Oleta River in Oleta State Park. I can see a body, possibly a girl between age 17-25, blonde hair. I can't see her face, but her skin tone is a creamy carmel color. I can see the restraints that were used. Boot prints and other evidence. A hiker is coming up on the body, so in about...3....2....1.
The phones in the station begin going off, so I begin ignoring them by placing my earphones in my ears and then hitting play on my iPod. The song Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) by Eurythmics, begins pounding through them, causing me to bob my head a bit.
I belt out,"Sweet dreams are made of this. Who am I to disagree? I travel the world and the seven seas. Everybody's looking for something. Some of them want to use you, some of them want to get used by you.".
"Lexi, let's go," Aunt Debra hollers at me over my music.
I smirk, already knowing where to go. I fish the keys to my Chevy Silverado from my left front pocket, then I take my left earphone out.
"I'll meet y'all there, where ever it is," I say to her, heading out the door and to the parking lot.
Where the hell's that body, I think to myself scouring the area, before Dad, Aunt Debra, Angel and the others get here. The hiker already told me what she knew, which wasn't much, but I thank her and move on. I come up a grouping of brush that's familiar from the vision and I'm dead on. Ah shit, it's Tally, I think fighting back the urge to scream.
Tally, or rather Natalia Hicks was my friend who had just turned twenty two. I shake off any feelings, then I take the things out of my bag that I'll need. I begin roping off the area with police tape, then after putting some gloves on I begin bagging evidence and taking pictures with my forensics camera. About twenty minutes later everyone else shows up.
"Lexi, what are you doing here so fast," Dad asks, helping Aunt Debra and some others duck under the tape.
"Heard it on the CB," I mutter, snapping more pics of the area around Tally.
"What was said over the CB," Angel Batista asks.
"A hiker called the station about a body near Oleta River," I respond, motioning for him to help me turn her over after I bagged her hands and her barefeet.
"Who is she," Aunt Debra asks.
"Natalia Diana Hicks. Age twenty two," I say leaving out, a friend of mine that I used to call a sister, before she moved to Washington D.C.
"Any other information, Lexi," Dad asks.
"Not that I have to offer, Dexter," I say, remembering to call Dad by his real name in the field.
"Alright, Lexi. Good job on the evidence bagging," Dad says, looking at my handiwork.
"I've had the best teacher," I say, after peeling up a plaster cast I had set down not long ago.
Dad nods, staring at me, trying to understand me again. I knew all about his 'Bay Harbor Butcher' days, but he didn't know that I knew. Something keeps nagging me at the back of my mind, something that Tally would never do. She never runs around barefoot! She always has either flip flops on or her Ariat Steel toed boots! Or her boyfriend's Brahma boots!, I shout inside my head, looking at her feet once more.
"Dexter, Angel, scour for Ariat steel toed, Brahma steel toed or Union Bay flip flops, PRONTO," I say, nearly screaming the last word.
"What did you say the second pair of boots were that she wore, Lexi," Aunt Debra asks, looking at Tally's ankles, then her wrists.
"Uh, Brahma. Possibly steel toed, black boot color, but brown boot strings. Why?".
That's when I realized it, why Aunt Debra asked. Upon closer examination of Tally's wrists and ankles, I could see them since they moved her. Those bindings are the boot strings, I think walking away from the scene.
It's a bad thing I did, because I ended up falling into a shallow, yet deep part of the river, stumbling upon something linked to the case.
Oh my fucking.... That's Brice, Tally's boyfriend! Oh Holy Shit! Oh, crap, I need to get out of here, I think.
"We got a double homicide," I shout as I run back to the area Tally was found in.
Dad, Aunt Debra and Angel give me confused looks.
"Brice Mickelson, red hair, green eyes, twenty three, dead! Body over there," I say, pointing the way I just came.
Dad, Angel, Aunt Debra and some of the others follow me. This can't be happening! I just talked to Brice last night, to help him with his Criminal Justice homework, I think as manage to stop myself from falling in the river again.
"We don't have time to get the dive team out here," I mutter, unlacing my tennis shoes.
"What the actual hell are we going to do about this body, Dex," Aunt Debra shouts.
"Just shut the hell up everyone," I shout in return, thinking.
Dad and Aunt Debra look at me funny, but everyone else is shocked.
"I need a backboard," I mutter again, trying to figure out how not to waste more precious time. Screw it, I think as I back up, then I take off running. I hope my track and field training will help me as I jump into the river, ignoring the pain of a fresh gash on my right leg. I did not think this through, I'm barely trained in body retrieval, I think as I reach the point where I need to be.
I begin looking for something to haul him in, but as I'm about to give up I spot a flat piece of driftwood. Bingo! Within a few moments, Brice's body is on dry land being looked over. Seriously, what the actual hell is going on with this case, as I watch an EMT stitch my right leg up.
Once everything's been cleared, Dad and I head back home, waiting until they needed us again. I mean I can do more, but I don't argue.