Morning all. I hope you had a good day yesterday. We had a barbeque between rainstorms. Run despite, or maybe because of that. Even showered I think I still smell like smoke. But it is time to look at the last prompt of the week and see what we come up with. Are you ready? Fabulous, timers set and off we go.
Not what I expected. It usually isn’t but I generally don’t write mysteries unless they are wrapped up in something supernatural. Maybe this is and I just haven’t gotten to it yet.
Friday, June 20th: The truck was red.
The truck was red. More than that, there were few details that matched. Some claimed it was an older model, others a newer one. Some said it had instate license plates, others out of state. One even claimed there was no license plate, just a dealers tag with a square of information taped to the inside of the windshield. Despite only one person mentioning it and others dismissing the boy, Chris, Charles, Connor…Something with a C, Brian thought it was worth looking into. Despite the others giving no credence to anything he said, the boy had a quiet definite air about him. He seemed to notice things.
‘He also came up with a few more details I suppose,’ Brian reminded himself. The others shouted him down until he stopped talking, but again, Brian thought it was worth looking into.
‘Especially since the only definite things the others had was that it was a red truck.’
He made a mental note to find the quiet boy again and to find out more than that his name began with a c. ‘Always helpful to know the name of the person you want to talk to.’
He sighed and walked away, knowing that someone else would be writing down all of their names and getting their contact information. Even now he could see the kids lining up to give their details to the officer. He knew better than to pull the quiet kid away and ask his questions now. The kid would take heat for it and as the others had already shouted him down once, he might be reticent to say anything more.
‘Later then,’ he promised himself. Brian headed off to the car and his next destination. This was not the only stop the red truck made. “So pointless,” he mused as he turned the engine on and continued down the road. “Well pointless to me,” he conceded. Clearly there was a point to someone else.
As he drove, he reviewed what he knew. A red truck dropped off a bundle and kept going. When said bundle was opened, by whoever happened to open it – there didn’t seem to be any attempt to target anyone in any location as a specific recipient – they found bloody bits. The first two were analyzed. One turned out to be a deer’s internal organs and the other bits from a wild boar.
‘Maybe the type of organs and the animal means something,’ he thought. He would check the details after he made the rounds.
The sites appeared to be random, at least they hadn’t found anything connecting them yet. ‘Could be personal to the individual,’ he thought. ‘Probably is unless he is choosing the most opportune spots. Thus far every location had people there when he arrived but they were a distance off. They could see the bundle being dropped but by the time anyone walked over to see what it was, the truck had kicked up dust and was disappearing around the corner.
“Opportunistic or personal, could go either way.’
The organs looked like they were removed with surgical precision, so either a doctor or a hunter with skill was what he was told to look out for. ‘As long as they are driving a red truck.’
Ten til Midnight 