scrapped: a cumberland creek mystery by mollie cox bryan

7/30/2019 Scrapped: A Cumberland Creek Mystery by Mollie Cox Bryan

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Chapter 1

Spending Sunday afternoon watching the police draga body from a river was not what Annie had planned forthe day. She was kicking a soccer ball around in the

backyard with her boys when she was called away.She took a deep breath as she walked through the

crowd and over the yellow tape, which roped off thesection to the river where the police and paramedics hadgathered. Red and orange lights circled and flashed.

Ducks swam in the river. A comforting arm slid arounda woman standing in the crowd. A group of Mennonitesstood from the bench they were sitting on and loweredtheir heads. What were the Mennonites doing at the parkon a Sunday? Odd.

Across the river, where the park was more populated,Annie saw children playing on the swings and bars onthe playground. Also, a rowdy game of basketball wastaking place in another corner of the blacktopped sur-face. In the grassy area, a Frisbee was being thrown be-tween three friends. Groups of mothers had gathered onthe benches, trying not to alert their children or to looktoo closely at what was happening across the rushing

Cumberland Creek River.A hush came over the crowd on this side of the river


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as the nude body of a small red-haired woman emergedfrom the water in a torn sack, her hair dangling over the

side, along with a foot. The body, mostly shrouded bythe shredded sack, was placed on the ground. Camerasflashedagain.

Every time Annie viewed a dead person, she silentlythanked one of her old journalism professors, who hadinsisted all his students witness autopsies. If youre

going to get sick, its better here than in front of a cop.Hell lose all respect for you.Hello, Annie, said Jesse, one of the uniformed

police officers she had come to know over the past yearof reporting about Maggie Rae and her family. NowAnnie found herself under contract with a publisherto write a book about the case, which she was just

finishing up. But she was still freelancing for theWashington Heraldfrom time to time and was calledin this morning to check this out. Was this incident an-other murder in the small town of Cumberland Creek?

Hi, Jesse. Wheres your boss?Behind you, came his voice. Then Detective Bryant

walked by her to look over the body more closely. Hiseyebrows knit, and he leaned in even closer, slidinggloves on his hands. What the hell is this?

Scratches? Jesse said, looking closer.Annie was hoping to avoid looking closely at the

actual body. Although shed seen way too many deadbodies during her tenure as a reporter, it never was any

easier. And she thought shed left this behind her whenshe left Washington. Shed gotten sucked back into re-porting during the Maggie Rae case. She was just begin-ning to get some breathing spaceher book sent off tothe publisher, nothing much else to report on in Cum-

berland Creekand now this. She hoped it was an ac-

cident and not a murder.No, Detective Bryant said. Look closer. They are

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little markings of some kind. I cant quite make themout. Wheres the coroner?

Annie forced herself to look at the gray-blue arm thedetective was holding gingerly in his hand. Okay, its

just an arm, she told herself. But she could see themarkings.

It looks like Hebrew, she blurted.Really? Jesse said.

Look again. Thats not Hebrew, Detective Bryantsaid.Annie leaned in closer. She had to admit, now that

she was looking closer at it, that it didnt look likeHebrew at all.

The detective turned to the coroner as he walkedcloser to the group. I want close-up photos of these

markings. Photos from all angles.Must be a recent drowning, the coroner said. If

thats the cause of death.What makes you say that? Annie asked.You can still recognize the body as a person. If it

goes too long, its difficult.

Annies stomach twisted.As Detective Bryant dropped the arm, she viewed theface of the victim between the clusters of shoulders ofthe police as they backed away. Young. Blue eyes star-ing blankly. Tangled red hair. Her face showed no signof strugglelike a grimace or a look of anger or regret.The woman looked like a gray-blue rubber doll. Of

course, what expression would a dead person have butnone?

Who found her? Annie asked.It was a runner this morning, a Josh Brandt, Detec-

tive Bryant answered. Hes home now. Id appreciateit if youd give him some time before you zoom in for

the kill, he said and grinned, his blue eyes sparkling.Annie refused to engage with his taunting. She

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watched as he brushed away a strand of red hair fromthe young womans face. It was the most gentle gesture

shed ever seen him make.So what do you think the markings are? Annie

asked the detective.Ive no idea, he said. But Im going to find out. I

have a friend that specializes in symbolsif that is whatthese markings are.

Will you let me know?Sure. Ive got nothing better to do, he said andsmirked.

Any idea who she is?None, he said. Check back with us tomorrow.Thanks, she said and walked away.It was a beautiful fall dayso much colorgolds,

reds, crimson, orange, yellow. Fall in Cumberland Creekwas as colorful as any painting or photo. It could be anadvertisement for the way fall should look, with itsmountains, colors, and crisp blue skies.

Annie looked off into the distance at the mountains.Bryant would probably not let her know about those

symbols, Annie decided. She would have to researchthem herself. She was sure of it. She stood on the dirtpath and quickly sketched some of the symbolsif thatwas indeed what they were, and not odd scratches froma struggle with rocks or the limb of a tree. If they weresimply scratches, though, the markings were weirdlysmooth. Her stomach twisted again. Another murder.

They just needed to confirm the cause of death and callit onebut Annie felt that it was. That the body was ina sack made her more certain, and she wondered if thesack had been weighted before the rivers rocks and cur-rent slashed it to pieces.

She walked along the riverside path toward Cum-

berland Creek proper, where she lived. She walked rightpast Veras dancing school, closed, as were all the town

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businesses, because today was Sunday. It wouldnt doanybody any good to open on Sunday. There would be

no customers. Most of the population in CumberlandCreek spent Sundays in church and at homeexcept forAnnie, Vera, and their friends, who were usually nurs-ing mild hangovers from the Saturday night crop, whenthey gathered to scrapbook in Sheilas basement.

Annie reached the sidewalk, which veered toward

Veras house. When shed talked with Vera this morning,shed said Cookie was coming over and was planning towatch Veras daughter, Elizabeth, and make her special

pumpkin soup, while Vera went to the grocers. Anniesmouth began to water. The woman could cook.

She could also do some yoga, twisting her body intoall sorts of poses as if it were nothing at all. Annie loved

Cookies Friday evening class. She had taken classeswhen she lived in the D.C. area, but none were like this.Cookie created a safe environment in which you couldexplore and reach out for new posesshe was not ateacher who pushed you to do anything painful.

Cookie explained to them one evening how she kept

a yoga journal as a beginner and how it helped for herto see how much shed progressed. Now Annie wasworking on something similar, a combination scrapbookor dream book of sortsmundane, with ordinary begin-ning techniques interspersed with writing about a poseor thought. She was using self-portraits. This was a dif-ferent kind of scrapbooking than what Annie had first

learned from the Cumberland Creek crop; it was morelike art journaling.

Annie thought about stopping by for a few minutesbefore heading home, but she should be getting home toMike and the boys. But it would be nice to see herfriends after witnessing the disturbing events at the

park. Of course, shed have to fill them all in.Oh God, there you are! Sheila came around the

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corner, nearly knocking Annie over. Her hair neededbrushing, her glasses looked crooked, and her T-shirt

was a wrinkled mess.Whats going on? Annie said, steadying herself.

Why was she so tired today?Did you hear? They found a dead body in the river,

Sheila said, panting.Man, this place is amazing, Annie said. News

travels so fast.What? Sheila said.I was just there, Annie said.Well, for heavens sake, Sheila said, taking her by

the other arm. Are you heading to Veras place?Annie nodded. Okay, so she wouldnt stay long.When Vera opened the door, smiling, the smell of

pumpkin, cinnamon, and cumin, with its promise ofwarmth, met Annie, the image of a drowned youngwoman fresh on her mind.

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scrapped: a cumberland creek mystery by mollie cox bryan

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