CHAPTER 4
The next day, Sgt. Patterson arrived from camp at 6:30 a.m., just in time to see
if Eloise had finished her labor. Only she, oddly enough, didn't get to see it.
"Patterson!" yelled Corporal Jenks as she ran over to you. "I have bad news,
it's about Brown." He motioned over to the coke piles, one half moved. The
still-naked body of Eloise Brown lay there, covered by a sheen of ice, her eyes
locked open in a final gasp of terror, a light dusting of snowflake crystals
encrusting her frigid skin.
Patterson gasped. Even her hardened self couldn't bear to see that. And she
didn't even know what this woman did. "She's.."
"Dead," completed the Corporal. "After you left yesterday evening, the
temperature fell."
The Sergeant nodded her assent. "Yes, I saw the weather report. Record lows last
night." She shook her head. "Poor bitch didn't have a chance. Well, pry her up,
we'll need to get her into the morgue somehow."
...
A few days later, a plain manila envelope landed on Patterson's desk. She opened
it questioningly-- inside was a thin folder of oak tag, with a post-it note on
front, with the message, "Freda- heard you wanted to see this. Marc." She stared
at it questioningly. She didn't know anyone named Marc. But then she saw the
name on the folder's tab.
Eloise Brown.
Carefully, but still quickly, she opened it. Her curiosity finally whetted,
though this girl'd been dead for .. gee, how long was it? Four days?
She stared at the rap sheet, confusedly. She was, evidently, in for indecent
exposure.
