Serial- Part 9

Seth admired the small café’s unassuming ambiance, cheerful décor, and mouthwatering menu. I should surprise Melanie and bring her here for dinner. She loves restaurants like this. Gotta hand it to Bill; he knows how to pick obscure spots. I’ve never even heard of this place.

            “So, what do you recommend, Bill? Everything on the menu sounds delectable.”

            “I think I’ve tried everything here and, honestly, I’ve never once been disappointed. My only recommendation is save room for dessert…it’s to die for.”

Unable to resist, Bill’s guests immediately flipped to the back of the menu to peruse the desserts. There was something to fill every craving: light and airy, rich and decadent, sinfully sweet, even moderately healthy. Seth’s mouth watered as he read the descriptions. Whoever wrote these missed their calling; writing is in their blood. For a moment he actually considered skipping the meal and just ordering a sample of desserts but, even for Seth, behavior like that was extreme. Instead, flipped back to the lunch specials to deliberate some more.

            “Back again, Bill?” The waitress barely noticed the other patrons at the table. Her toothpaste ad smile was solely for the detective. “You bring someone new with you every time you dine here. We ought to put you on the payroll as our head of marketing.”

            “What can I say, Chloe? Between the exquisite food and remarkable service…I’m hooked.”

The detective smiled warmly making Seth wonder if there was more to their relationship than just patron and waitress. Before he could scrutinize their exchange some more, the waitress looked at the rest of the table and shrieked.

            “Oh my God! Are you? I can’t believe it! Bill, I thought you were lying when you said you knew him.” Chloe the waitress suddenly became Chloe the fan-girl as she squealed to Seth.  “I’m your biggest fan. Holy crap! I’ve read all your books at least a million times and…I know it’s really unprofessional but could I have your autograph? Please? I have your latest novel, Serial, in the back. While I’m putting in the table’s drink order, I’ll grab it.”

As it always did when people praised his work, Seth’s face resembled a pomegranate and his cheeked burned as if he had a fever. While he loved knowing that his work touched people, he just didn’t understand the praise. Others always seemed far more worthy of that acclaim. Chloe; however, hadn’t noticed. She was too excited but the others at his table had.

            “You could fry an egg on his cheeks,” Kim laughed. “Look how red he is.”

            “Stop teasing him. I find it refreshing that he isn’t a smug bastard,” Angela chimed in.

By the time Chloe returned, Seth’s face was on the verge of bursting into flame but he took the time to write a heartfelt message on the title page. She was gushing with excitement as she read the inscription aloud.

            “To my kind friend Chloe; Oh my gosh…Do you see that?” She squealed, turning the page around for all to see. “He called me his friend! I can’t wait to show this to--”

            “Miss! I only have a thirty minute lunch and I’ve been trying to get your attention for ten of those minutes.”

The man, two tables down, was shouting at the top of his lungs as he tapped rudely on his watch. With her face an even deeper shade of red than Seth’s, Chloe scurried to his table to make amends. Hell-bent on making others as miserable as himself; the man bellowed insults and screamed at her until tears of humiliation streamed down her cheeks. Outraged, both Seth and Detective Crash rushed to her aid.

            “Hey, Buddy! Take it easy. There’s no reason to talk to her like that.”

            “Who the hell asked you two? What…are you her boyfriends or something?”

            “No, we’re just concerned patrons who understand how little waitresses make in spite of having to put up with a never-ending parade of stupid coming through the doors.”

By the time the manager reached the belligerent man’s table, Seth and Bill were ready to take the jerk outside and teach him some manners. Meanwhile, Kim and Angela tried to soothe Chloe’s hurt feelings.

            “This is why I work with the dead…they can’t backtalk.” Kim whispered, bringing a wan smile to the young waitress’ face.

In the end, the jerk walked away with a free meal and Chloe was reprimanded for making customers wait during the lunch rush. It was the adamant appeal on Chloe’s behalf by Kim, Angela, Seth and Detective Crash that saved her from being docked pay. Even though the food was every bit as scrumptious as Bill had promised, the rude behavior by the other patron had somewhat soured their meal. Seth resented the arrogance. He had always despised people who looked down their noses at the working class. I’d hate to be in his shoes when Karma catches up with him and takes a huge chunk out of his ass for treating others like dirt.

Serial- Part 8

The question hung in heavy in the room like the vile stench of the rotted, waterlogged, corpse. “Do you think someone ate it?” No sooner had the words slipped past his lips; Seth wished he hadn’t said it. The two women were eyeing him curiously.

            “Well, what I meant was, do you think this guy could have been one of Gerald Rhymes’ victims? You know, since the body was anchored down and all…he could have been, right?”

            “I doubt it, Seth. This body is too fresh to have been one of his victims.”

            “I’m sorry; did you seriously call this body fresh, Kim?

Both she and Angela laughed until they were gasping for air. Seth’s puzzled expression only fueled their mirth.  Eventually, Angela nudged Kim with her elbow and both tried to contain their amusement. When the ladies finally caught their breath, Seth was glowering at them and tapping his foot impatiently. I’d love to know what the hell is so funny. I don’t see anything funny about this, at all, he thought.

            “Sorry, Seth. I think the reason we both laughed so hard is because we both remember being a newbie and thinking the exact same thing. After a while, you get to the point where you can look at a dead body and get a pretty good feel for how long it has been dead. There are certain telltale marks that we know to look for and that helps give us an estimate, at least.

            “Oh, well that makes sense, Angela. Thanks, I was beginning to think you two were making fun of me and that would be awfully rude.”

A wide grin cut across Seth’s face but his eyes seemed to have lost the playful spark that usually made them appear to dance. Instead, they turned cold and even appeared darker than normal. Unsettled by the expression, Kim continued with her work. She deliberately pointed out some of those telltale marks to Seth and he scribbled them into his notepad. Inside, he was silently cursing himself for getting up so late and rushing out of the house without his laptop. Angela also accessed photos on her tablet to show Seth the different states of decay. Afterward, he started to realize why they’d laughed so hard and even managed a chuckle himself. He did not; however, find the diabolical odor permeating the morgue even remotely amusing. As Seth jotted a note to himself to pick up nose-plugs, he was startled by a knock at the door.

            “Man, it smells like something died in here!”

Detective Bill Crash’s jovial laugh seemed to chase away some of the foul-smelling gloom.

            “Hiya, Bill. How’s it going?”

            “Ah, you know…same crap just a bigger pile. No need to ask how you three are doing. I can smell it. Don’t you just hate when they dump bodies in the river?”

            “You know I do.”

            “Well, I just thought I’d pop in and see how things were going. Captain Mulish was hoping you might have some insight and I wanted to apologize…I didn’t realize who you had with you last night. I feel so foolish. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you. I’m actually a huge fan, Mister LL-”

            “No, please, call me Seth and there’s no reason to feel foolish; you had more important things to focus on last night.”

            “You’re very kind. I’m glad you didn’t take offense. Any chance I can hit you up for an autograph after lunch?”

            “After lunch, Bill? Angela questioned.

            “Oh yeah, I came to invite the three of you out to lunch, assuming you didn’t already have plans and your appetites aren’t ruined.”

***Please return Monday, August 18^th for the next installment of Serial***

Serial- Part 7

Balancing the cup carrier, Seth opened the door to the morgue. He wasn’t even through the door when the smell slapped his face with the vengeance of a scorned lover. Focusing all of his attention on breathing in and out through his mouth, he managed to deliver the drinks without spilling a drop.

            “Wow, thanks! What’s the occasion?” Kim asked before savoring her first sip.

            “Last night you told me to bring the coffee and a good trainee always listens… I wasn’t sure what you like though so I ordered my wife’s favorite for you both.”

            “It’s perfect, Seth. Thank you,” Angela interjected.

            “Okay, coffee break is over…let’s cut this guy open and see what we can find.”

Inwardly, Seth groaned. He had secretly hoped that the autopsy was already under way. Knowing it wasn’t, meant the stench was going to get much worse. Good thing I came prepared this time, he thought while slathering mentholated rub around his nostrils and upper lip. His mask also received its own application of medicated ointment in addition to an ample dose of his strongest cologne. I’d rather smell like I bathed in cologne than inhale the rank decay from our floater. While Seth pulled on his lab coat and gloves, Angela was snapping pictures of the body.

            “Hmm, I wonder what that is.” She muttered, pointing just below the body’s ribs. “It looks like something cut a chunk out of him.”

All three leaned in to observe the not-so-recently deceased’s side, in an attempt to determine the cause.

            “It was clearly a slice and not a bite,” Kim observed. “See how precise the incision is? If an animal bit him it would be a jagged tear.”

            “So, you think someone saved it…like a trophy or something?” Seth asked.

            “Trophy, huh?”

            “Sure, I watch movies and I read Silence of the Lambs. Oh God, do you think someone ate it?”

Serial- Part 6

    Hours later as Seth drove home he considered the state of the corpse, or as Kim called it, “a floater”. The stench was magnitudes worse than anything he had expected. God, I thought the bowel resection lady was bad. Mr. Bloaty Fishfood could knock a buzzard off a shit wagon and we were standing outside. I can only imagine how bad it will be inside the morgue tomorrow morning but if I quit now I’ll be a laughing stock. I wonder what Melanie will think when she hears about this.

The house was dark as he entered, except for a faint flicker underneath the basement door.

            “Did you leave the light on for me, my darling?”

Hearing the baritone voice of her captor made the woman flinch. As he drew closer, she thrashed against binding cords that pinned her to the gurney. Despite her attempts to appear fearless, a single tear spilled over and trickled down her cheek.

            “Tsk, Tsk! Big girls don’t cry, my pet, and you’re definitely a big girl.”

To emphasize his point, he slapped her thigh and watched it ripple under the impact of his palm.

            “I can help you with that. No? Why are you shaking your head no, my pet? Women pay thousands of dollars to go under the knife.” He said, raising a butcher knife to glint under the bare light bulb dangling from the ceiling. “I’m offering it to you for free.”

He turned up the gas and lit his handheld blowtorch. Only when the knife blade glowed did he pull it from the flame and lop off a thick, steak-sized slice of meat from between her knee and hip. The searing-hot blade cauterized her flesh, preventing too much blood loss. Even through the gag, her screams split the night until she lost consciousness. He took his chunk of human steak upstairs and cut away the outer skin. After a liberal coating of salt and pepper, he tossed it into a frying pan with a little butter and some sliced onions. It didn’t take long to reach medium-well so, while the meat rested, he seared the outer skin then tossed it to the dog. 

            “Did you think I would forget you? I couldn’t do that to my good boy. Here’s some for you and some for me. Bon appétite.”

The next morning, Seth’s alarm blared but he struggled to drag himself out of bed. Not even the steamy spray of his shower succeeded in rinsing the fog from his brain. He didn’t even bother to shave; he pulled some clothes on and shuffled downstairs.

            “What time did you get home last night, hon? I never even heard you come in.”

            “Honestly, I have no idea. I came home, had a bite to eat, and went straight to bed.”

            “Yeah, I saw that. Thanks for leaving the kitchen a mess. You want some breakfast?”

            “No, I’d better not…I can’t imagine the smell got any better over night, if you know what I mean.”

Melanie wrinkled her nose and pushed her plate of scrambled eggs aside.

            “I suppose the good news is, if you keep this up I’m going to drop some serious weight.”

            “You don’t need to shed a single pound. I think you’re gorgeous just the way you are so I’ll quit talking about work while you’re eating. Oh, geez, look at the time…I’d better run. Malachi, you’ll take good care of mommy for me, won’t you? Of course you will! You’re my good boy.”

Seth chuckled as his best friend’s tail wagged excitedly. Even the slightest praise made Malachi beam with pride.

            “Here, you look like you could use this,” Melanie laughed, as she handed him a travel mug of coffee.

            “You’re the best, Mel.  Love you, sweetie.”

As he sprinted out the door, Seth waved goodbye to his family. He downed the entire mug of coffee that Melanie had made for him on the way to the coffee shop. When he reached the counter, he realized he had no idea how Angela and Kim took their coffee so he improvised. I’ll order them Melanie’s favorite drink and, hopefully, they’ll like it too.

            “Hello? Can I take your order?” The snotty, hipster-barista snapped. “People are, like, waiting.”

Seth muttered his order and repressed a sneer. Keep treating people like that and you’ll end up dead, just another bloated corpse washed up from the river.