emerged into the overgrown back yard and a fairly chaotic scene.
The Sorrento cops setting up the
crime scene had to work around the ambulance crew, who were just at the point
of helping Alec onto the stretcher. Nash could see Elliot and Penelope hovering
near the stretcher, trying to help, but being carefully held back by Deputy
Steve Pitot. The big deputy was having trouble restraining Elliot, who was
clearly distraught over her son. Nash made his way quickly in her direction.
“Ellie?” he called out as he
approached.
Elliot’s head came up like a
flash, her big blue eyes fixing on Nash. She looked as if she was ready to
erupt but Alec heard Nash also and turned in the man’s direction.
“I’m okay,” he assured both Nash
and his frantic mother. “I don’t even need this stretcher. I can walk on my
own.”
Nash made it to the side of the
stretcher, next to Elliot. His instinct was to put his arms around her and
comfort her but he restrained himself, not wanting to create a spectacle that
could possibly be construed as inappropriate. It was one of the biggest
struggles he’d ever had to face. He kept himself cool and professional as he
focused on Alec, listening to Elliot’s soft sniffles beside him.
“What happened, Alec?” he asked.
“Uh, sheriff, we got this,” a fat
sergeant with a big Smokey the Bear hat spoke from the other side of the
stretcher. “We’re settin’ up a crime scene right now. We’ll handle it from
here.”
Nash looked at the sergeant. He
knew the man vaguely, a good old boy who tended not to get worked up into a
sweat over anything, violent crimes included. This wasn’t Nash’s jurisdiction
so he had to force himself to back off.
“I can see that,” he replied.
“I’m a friend of the family. My questions aren’t in an official capacity.”
Sergeant Rollens nodded as if he
didn’t believe him but, to his credit, he didn’t say anything. He turned back
to his crime scene as Nash refocused on Alec.
“What happened?” he asked again,
more quietly.
Alec tried to shrug but he
couldn’t; his entire right arm and shoulder were bandaged up tight, including
both hands. The medic was hooking the I.V. to the gurney as they prepared to
roll it out.
“I was back here trying to figure
out if I could get the propane tank to work, you know, pulling away the vines
and stuff, and all of a sudden that old dude came rushing out of the trees with
a big hatchet in his hand,” he pointed to the body laying in the overgrowth
several feet away. “He caught me in the shoulder so I kicked him away and the
hatchet fell. He picked it up and tried to swing it at me again but I blocked
it. I finally grabbed the hatchet and he tried to fight me for it, and… well, I
stabbed him with it. It was an accident but I swear to you, he was trying to
kill me.”
Nash didn’t react other than to
pat the young man consolingly on his good shoulder and move around the gurney
that they were starting to roll towards the ambulance.
He went over to the taped off
crime scene, gazing down at the bloodied body of an older white male dressed in
a dirty tee shirt, dirty jeans and old shoes. The man was lying in a pile of overgrown
weeds with a hatchet buried in his chest. Nash was staring at the body when he
felt someone walk up beside him.
He glanced over to see his
brother standing there, also looking at the body. Nash snorted ironically.
“Got more than you bargained for
today, didn’t you?” he said.
Beau Aury grinned up at his
younger brother. Shorter than Nash by several inches, he didn’t look anything
like his studly sibling. He had dark curly hair, brown eyes, and the round body
of a man who used to be muscular in his youth before age and an inactive
lifestyle caught up with him. But he was as honest as the day was long and
funnier than anyone Nash had ever met.
“You always get me mixed up in
the craziest things,” Beau muttered.
“Me?” Nash lifted his eyebrows.
“All I did was
The Sorrento cops setting up the
crime scene had to work around the ambulance crew, who were just at the point
of helping Alec onto the stretcher. Nash could see Elliot and Penelope hovering
near the stretcher, trying to help, but being carefully held back by Deputy
Steve Pitot. The big deputy was having trouble restraining Elliot, who was
clearly distraught over her son. Nash made his way quickly in her direction.
“Ellie?” he called out as he
approached.
Elliot’s head came up like a
flash, her big blue eyes fixing on Nash. She looked as if she was ready to
erupt but Alec heard Nash also and turned in the man’s direction.
“I’m okay,” he assured both Nash
and his frantic mother. “I don’t even need this stretcher. I can walk on my
own.”
Nash made it to the side of the
stretcher, next to Elliot. His instinct was to put his arms around her and
comfort her but he restrained himself, not wanting to create a spectacle that
could possibly be construed as inappropriate. It was one of the biggest
struggles he’d ever had to face. He kept himself cool and professional as he
focused on Alec, listening to Elliot’s soft sniffles beside him.
“What happened, Alec?” he asked.
“Uh, sheriff, we got this,” a fat
sergeant with a big Smokey the Bear hat spoke from the other side of the
stretcher. “We’re settin’ up a crime scene right now. We’ll handle it from
here.”
Nash looked at the sergeant. He
knew the man vaguely, a good old boy who tended not to get worked up into a
sweat over anything, violent crimes included. This wasn’t Nash’s jurisdiction
so he had to force himself to back off.
“I can see that,” he replied.
“I’m a friend of the family. My questions aren’t in an official capacity.”
Sergeant Rollens nodded as if he
didn’t believe him but, to his credit, he didn’t say anything. He turned back
to his crime scene as Nash refocused on Alec.
“What happened?” he asked again,
more quietly.
Alec tried to shrug but he
couldn’t; his entire right arm and shoulder were bandaged up tight, including
both hands. The medic was hooking the I.V. to the gurney as they prepared to
roll it out.
“I was back here trying to figure
out if I could get the propane tank to work, you know, pulling away the vines
and stuff, and all of a sudden that old dude came rushing out of the trees with
a big hatchet in his hand,” he pointed to the body laying in the overgrowth
several feet away. “He caught me in the shoulder so I kicked him away and the
hatchet fell. He picked it up and tried to swing it at me again but I blocked
it. I finally grabbed the hatchet and he tried to fight me for it, and… well, I
stabbed him with it. It was an accident but I swear to you, he was trying to
kill me.”
Nash didn’t react other than to
pat the young man consolingly on his good shoulder and move around the gurney
that they were starting to roll towards the ambulance.
He went over to the taped off
crime scene, gazing down at the bloodied body of an older white male dressed in
a dirty tee shirt, dirty jeans and old shoes. The man was lying in a pile of overgrown
weeds with a hatchet buried in his chest. Nash was staring at the body when he
felt someone walk up beside him.
He glanced over to see his
brother standing there, also looking at the body. Nash snorted ironically.
“Got more than you bargained for
today, didn’t you?” he said.
Beau Aury grinned up at his
younger brother. Shorter than Nash by several inches, he didn’t look anything
like his studly sibling. He had dark curly hair, brown eyes, and the round body
of a man who used to be muscular in his youth before age and an inactive
lifestyle caught up with him. But he was as honest as the day was long and
funnier than anyone Nash had ever met.
“You always get me mixed up in
the craziest things,” Beau muttered.
“Me?” Nash lifted his eyebrows.
“All I did was
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