The Knife part 1

October 6, 2009
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Seventeen year old Kimberly Bartlett ran to the park in tears. Her whole world had just been smashed into a million pieces. The two people she thought she could really trust and love had turned their backs on her. She ran past the abandoned playground to the special tree she had planted when she was ten years old. She lied on the roots of the young tree and sobbed. It was dim, the nearest light was from a streetlight on the other side of the park. There wasn’t much to be seen of the moon or stars in the smoggy L.A atmosphere.

Finally her sobs subsided and she sat up. Her parents would be worried about her and knowing her dad, he’d have the entire police force looking for her. She knew she should’ve told her parents why she was so upset but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Her dad had always told her that the two of them were not trustworthy. She wouldn’t be able to stand listening to him telling her that he had told her so. Kimberly stood up and dusted all the dirt from her. It was October and the dirt was kind of damp. She pulled out her cell phone to call her parents when she heard footsteps approaching her. She looked up and saw a familiar figure walking toward her.

“Get away from me. I don’t want anything to do with you, you cheating back-stabbing…”her angry voice trailed off as she saw the figure pull a thin silver knife out of their pocket. Kimberly’s brown eyes widened as she stared at the glinting silver blade. The figure asked, “What was that, Kimberly?”

She shook her head and stuttered something unintelligible. The figure laughed at the obvious fear in her brown eyes. “You really think I would use this, Kimberly? I thought you knew me better.”

The figure tossed the knife onto the dirt so that the blade landed in the mud. Kimberly relaxed as she said, “I thought you were really going to do something to me.”

The figure laughed again, bitter and mocking this time, and then it’s voice turned deadly cold. “I was just trying to scare you. I would never use that. I would use this.”

Suddenly the figure pulled something out of their jacket. Kimberly could barely react before a shot was fired and she fell backward, spread eagle, her brown eyes blank. The figure knew that people would be there soon to see what they had done but they could not resist moving a strand of hair from her face with their gloved hand. The figure heard the sirens coming and hastily picked up the knife. As they did, it sliced their finger. The figure didn’t notice as it ran away from Kimberly’s dead body. They had done it, finally achieved what they had wanted for so long. A smile broke across the figure’s face and they ran faster so they wouldn’t be caught. It was so euphoric it didn’t notice when the blade fell from the pocket of the jacket and landed among the dewy grass. The silver blade gleamed red from the blood as the light of the streetlight hit it.

Back where she lay, Kimberly’s blank eyes gleamed in the same light.


Detective Alicia Scott crossed the yellow tape and approached the crime scene. Roused from bed in the middle of the night had not made her happy but as she surveyed the pretty girl’s still form on the floor, she felt a surge of sympathy. Her partner Felicity Allan stood farther away interviewing an eyewitness. When she was done she approached Alicia and said, “Pretty girl isn’t she? Her names Kimberly Bartlett. She’s seventeen years old and lived about two blocks over on Monroe Street.”

As Alicia slipped on her gloves she asked, “What’s a seventeen year old girl doing in a park at midnight?”

Felicity responded, “We’re not sure exactly. We haven’t talked to the parents yet. After we’re done looking over here, the chief wants us to go talk to them.”

Alicia looked over the bloody wound located on the right side of Kimberly’s chest where her heart was. She looked up at Felicity and said, “I’m guessing she died of a bullet wound.”

Felicity nodded, “Yea and guessing from the precision of the wound I’m guessing the shooter was less than six feet way. Since the floor’s pretty damp we managed pull out a partial shoe print right here.”

She walked over to a spot of ground clearly marked and Alicia said, “You were right. Just eyeballing it, I’d think that’s about five and a half feet away. And guessing from the body’s position Kimberly was looking at the shooter when she was shoot but from the cell phone right here”-Alicia looked over at the fallen phone- “you can tell she wasn’t expecting whoever it was.”

Felicity marked where the phone had landed and looked at the screen. “She was about to call her parents when she was shot.”

Just then the medical examiner and Felicity’s husband Joseph Allan arrived on the scene. He pecked Felicity on the cheek as he surveyed the scene.

“How is it that you two are always here before me?” he asked. Tall, with unruly brown hair Joseph Allan was a hearty man working a very dead job. He and Felicity had been married five years. Two years into the marriage, they found out Felicity couldn’t have children. They took in Joseph’s nephew to make due.

Felicity kissed her husband and said, “We’re the investigators. We have to know everything first. Now we’re going to head off to the Bartlett’s home to question the parents. I’ll see you at home.”

Joseph hugged his wife fiercely. After working twelve years with the police station, he had learned that another day wasn’t promised. His first wife Trudy had died while working as a policewoman. Three years later he met and married Felicity Aldridge. While she was opposite of his other wife with her wispy pale blonde hair, small frame, and light blue eyes, Felicity made him happy. As they walked off, Joseph called out, “Good seeing you too Alicia.”

She smiled and called back, “You too Joe.”

As he watched the pair walk away he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful Alicia Scott was. As much as he loved his wife, Joe had always been aware that he had had ignored the chance he had with the young beautiful fiery detective. Her straight red hair set off her brilliant emerald eyes perfectly and complimented her pale skin, so rare in L.A. He turned to his work shaking his head in disgust at himself as the dynamic pair drove off.

Although often underestimated, Alicia and Felicity were two brilliant detectives separately, so together they were a forceful pair. When they had started working together six years ago, the two had clicked instantly, although totally opposites. Alicia was from the Bronx and had moved here after her father, a policeman, was killed on the job. She supported herself during her college, her mother having died when she was a baby and having no immediate family around. Felicity was a native of Beverly Hills, her parents were two wealthy business entrepreneurs. The fiery red head and calm collected blonde were often called Allan and Scott, making them appear to any outsider as a pair of highly efficient men.





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