Savage Echoes (The Nickie Savage Series, Short Story Prequel) by R.T. Wolfe Page A
Book: Savage Echoes (The Nickie Savage Series, Short Story Prequel) by R.T. Wolfe
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Authors: R.T. Wolfe
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to Eddy. Then again to the recording. This time she noticed the sound of running water in the background.
* * *
The black and white was parked at the top of a bridge. Good thing Nickie wore her thicker heeled boots. It looked like they would be hiking down the incline to the creek below.
It was warm for a fall day in upstate New York. And dry. The brittle grasses poked through her tight-fitting gray slacks as she maneuvered her way to the underpass. Eddy held out a hand. Resisting a sarcastic retort, she shook her head politely instead.
One of the officers straightened when they approached. The other lit a cigarette and leaned against the side of the enormous concrete tubing that went beneath the length of the bridge.
"Lucky for us the creek bed is dry," Eddy said as they approached the officers. "Easier to spot anything left behind."
They were encroaching on the officer's turf. The easiest way to deal with it was to break the ice and blame it on the captain. "Hey, guys. You got an idea why the captain wants us out here?"
The one leaning on the concrete shrugged and inhaled his smoke. His partner held a gloved hand that carried an evidence bag containing the cell phone. "This is all we found, sir—I mean ma'am."
Ma'am ? What was she, a grandma?
"I placed a marker where we found it," the officer continued.
Nodding, Nickie pulled out a set of plastic gloves, then took the bag.
Battery still alive. Location services activated. Was that an accident? Nickie didn't like assumptions and hated gut instincts. She was only interested in facts. Which is why so many of her cases made it through the court system.
Last call made at o-seven-hundred. Six hours ago? A rush of clammy sweat beaded along her neckline. The air around her thickened and started to close in. She sat on the side of the incline and stuck her head between her legs. The smell of dirt and dead grass filled her nose. Breathe, Savage. There were people watching.
Within seconds, Eddy's hands lifted the sides of her face. "Nickie, you okay?"
She would be if he'd let go so she could get some blood back to her head. Instead, she nodded and forced a smile. "Give me a minute. Start looking around, would you?"
Eddy was an excellent detective. They'd partnered up before. After eyeing her cautiously, he made his way beneath the bridge. When he squatted down to get a better look in the dirt, she couldn't take it anymore and forced herself to stand. Ignoring the looks from the officers, she walked carefully.
"Drag marks." He gestured to two ragged lines dug in the cracked dirt that looked like they might be from the skinny heels of shoes or boots. Other prints may have been from a man's shoes. Maybe. Eddy pulled a small camera out of his pocket and took some pictures.
Following the trail, she noticed at the end closer to where the phone was found the marks were more like digs from heels, rather than dragging. They took more pictures.
In the middle of the underpass, on both sides of the concrete tubing, were perpendicular smaller tubes that must drain into the area where they were standing. A person could definitely fit in there. More than one person. She lifted on her toes and peered in. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the deep darkness. The place didn't feel like water came through it. Didn't smell like it either. It smelled dry and cracked.
Her phone buzzed in its holster. Caller ID showed Northridge Police Department.
"Savage," she answered.
"We have the parents in here," Dave said. "Get back when you can."
She took the final round of pictures and pocketed the phone. After giving consolatory nods to the officers, she and Eddy hiked up the hill.
"Where's the water?" She wasn't sure if she'd said that aloud.
"Huh?" Eddy walked to the passenger side as she headed around the front.
"I heard water in the 9-1-1 call."
Eddy smiled and leaned over the top of her unmarked. "I've got a blind friend in the city who says he knows where he's at because
* * *
The black and white was parked at the top of a bridge. Good thing Nickie wore her thicker heeled boots. It looked like they would be hiking down the incline to the creek below.
It was warm for a fall day in upstate New York. And dry. The brittle grasses poked through her tight-fitting gray slacks as she maneuvered her way to the underpass. Eddy held out a hand. Resisting a sarcastic retort, she shook her head politely instead.
One of the officers straightened when they approached. The other lit a cigarette and leaned against the side of the enormous concrete tubing that went beneath the length of the bridge.
"Lucky for us the creek bed is dry," Eddy said as they approached the officers. "Easier to spot anything left behind."
They were encroaching on the officer's turf. The easiest way to deal with it was to break the ice and blame it on the captain. "Hey, guys. You got an idea why the captain wants us out here?"
The one leaning on the concrete shrugged and inhaled his smoke. His partner held a gloved hand that carried an evidence bag containing the cell phone. "This is all we found, sir—I mean ma'am."
Ma'am ? What was she, a grandma?
"I placed a marker where we found it," the officer continued.
Nodding, Nickie pulled out a set of plastic gloves, then took the bag.
Battery still alive. Location services activated. Was that an accident? Nickie didn't like assumptions and hated gut instincts. She was only interested in facts. Which is why so many of her cases made it through the court system.
Last call made at o-seven-hundred. Six hours ago? A rush of clammy sweat beaded along her neckline. The air around her thickened and started to close in. She sat on the side of the incline and stuck her head between her legs. The smell of dirt and dead grass filled her nose. Breathe, Savage. There were people watching.
Within seconds, Eddy's hands lifted the sides of her face. "Nickie, you okay?"
She would be if he'd let go so she could get some blood back to her head. Instead, she nodded and forced a smile. "Give me a minute. Start looking around, would you?"
Eddy was an excellent detective. They'd partnered up before. After eyeing her cautiously, he made his way beneath the bridge. When he squatted down to get a better look in the dirt, she couldn't take it anymore and forced herself to stand. Ignoring the looks from the officers, she walked carefully.
"Drag marks." He gestured to two ragged lines dug in the cracked dirt that looked like they might be from the skinny heels of shoes or boots. Other prints may have been from a man's shoes. Maybe. Eddy pulled a small camera out of his pocket and took some pictures.
Following the trail, she noticed at the end closer to where the phone was found the marks were more like digs from heels, rather than dragging. They took more pictures.
In the middle of the underpass, on both sides of the concrete tubing, were perpendicular smaller tubes that must drain into the area where they were standing. A person could definitely fit in there. More than one person. She lifted on her toes and peered in. It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the deep darkness. The place didn't feel like water came through it. Didn't smell like it either. It smelled dry and cracked.
Her phone buzzed in its holster. Caller ID showed Northridge Police Department.
"Savage," she answered.
"We have the parents in here," Dave said. "Get back when you can."
She took the final round of pictures and pocketed the phone. After giving consolatory nods to the officers, she and Eddy hiked up the hill.
"Where's the water?" She wasn't sure if she'd said that aloud.
"Huh?" Eddy walked to the passenger side as she headed around the front.
"I heard water in the 9-1-1 call."
Eddy smiled and leaned over the top of her unmarked. "I've got a blind friend in the city who says he knows where he's at because
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