Chapter Twenty-Nine

After her shower, she got changed back into her street clothes. She stuffed her sweaty T-shirt and shorts into her bag and packed everything up. Pulling her keys out, she pushed through the front doors of the club and headed for the car. The fitness center was actually within walking distance, but it was almost eleven o'clock at night and she didn't want to be out walking alone that late.

Inside her apartment with the door locked and the two deadbolts set, she finally felt safe. She had been feeling just a bit paranoid since the night she had first seen the bald man. There was something wrong about him, something strange about his eyes. She shivered, remembering the chill that she felt when he had looked at her.

Setting her keys and her bag down, she went over to the phone and checked her voicemail. There was a message from Detective Allen, and also a message from Donna Owens, wanting her to come see her again. It was too late to call either one back now, she would try them back in the morning.

She turned on the television and found the news. She turned the volume up so that she could hear it in the kitchen and set down the remote. Pulling open the refrigerator door, she dug around until she found something that she was sure was edible. It was definitely time to clean out the fridge. There were half a dozen storage containers with leftovers that had mold and fuzz in them. She didn't feel like doing it right now, it could wait until tomorrow.

Taking out a bag of baby carrots and the bottle of Ranch dressing, she grabbed two bowls and went back into her front room the watch the news broadcast. Dana flipped open her laptop that was sitting on the coffee table and logged in to check her email. The weather was going to be nice for a few more days and then the rain would be back. She replied to a few emails, and cleared out the trash folder. There was so much junk in her inbox she was thinking about changing her address. She closed up the computer and looked back to the TV. The local news report was just about to start when the breaking news banner flashed across the screen.

"A police chase through downtown has ended with tragedy tonight. A car stolen earlier tonight crashed into oncoming traffic, killing the drivers of both cars. Yamhill between Third and Fourth is closed at this time, Jim Donahue is on his way to the scene for an updated report."

The local news came on, and then the sports report. Dana had almost dozed off when her phone rang, startling her fully awake. She check the caller ID before picking up the call, it was the work number. Picking up the receiver, she listened as Jeff gave her an address over in Northeast. She looked at the clock, at this time of the night; she could make it there in about fifteen minutes.

Thankful that she had replenished her film supply before going to the gym, she grabbed a jacket and ran down the stairs to her car. She scanned the street before getting into car, checking the back seat when the light came on as she opened the door.

Arriving at the house, she parked and unloaded her trunk and went looking the lead investigator. Her heavy camera bags bounced against her hips as she walked up to the open door. There were several people in the house; an officer pointed her in the direction she needed to go. As she passed through the front room, a woman sat on a couch crying while an officer tried to talk to her. In one of the bedrooms was a young man, crumpled up on the floor beneath the window. Dana overheard part of the conversation behind her.

"The mother says he was in here playing his music with some friends. They left and about ten to fifteen minutes later, she heard a loud thud. When she opened the door, she found him like this."

"Did she move him at all?"

'She said she didn't, but it doesn't make sense that she wouldn't try to help him"

Dana tuned the conversation out and got her tripod set up. Slowly and methodically, she took panoramic shots of the room, and then zoomed in on areas that she knew would be important, and were usually requested. She took a close up of the curtain rod that the young man had apparently hung himself on before it broke. Carefully taking pictures of the body from every angle possible, she took several shots of the man's neck and the ligature wrapped around it.

Normally she wouldn't be called in for a suicide, but there were suspicious circumstances concerning the friends, so they wanted the photographs in case the investigation turned something up. She finished and got her gear all packed. On her way home, she would drop the film off. It was late and she was ready to get some sleep.

On a whim, she decided to cruise down Burnside just to see if Candy was around. Driving south on MLK Blvd, she turned right to go over the bridge and down past Candy's regular corner. With the new construction, it was a pain to drive around. She didn't see any of the girls, but as she drove farther down, she noticed a tall man dressed in black walking down the street just inside the construction cones. His jacket collar was high enough that she didn't see any tattoo, but she got such a chill from seeing the bald head that she was sure it was him. He kept his eyes straight ahead, not turning as she passed him by. Her stomach flipped and she felt sick all of a sudden. She took the next turn she was able to, just to get as far away from him as she could. An irrational fear had gripped her, she felt like she was choking and couldn't breathe. She needed to be home, locked up safe and sound.