A silver flask lay on the sidewalk, and she immediately recognized it.Raymond Melton.Now, looking at his clothes, she noted he was dressed in the same attire as yesterday. “It’s Raymond. He must have passed outhere.” She wondered if the judge was out looking for his errant brother.
"Mr. Melton?" she called. "Sir, you need to wake up. It's morning."
No response. No movement at all.
Sara Lee's steps slowed as something cold settled in her stomach. The figure was too still. Too absolutely motionless. Even intoxicated people shifted and breathed. “What…. what…”
“My dear, let me see,” Nana June said, her voice stronger than Sara Lee felt.
Her grandmother walked closer with Pippi still barking at their feet. Raymond sat slumped against the bench's back, his head tilted at an unnatural angle. His silver flask caught the morning sunlight, now being sniffed by Pippi. His jacket was rumpled, and his face was gray.
"He's… just drunk," Sara Lee whispered, her voice filled with uncertainty. "Right? He's just?—"
“No, my dear. Not just drunk.”
She stopped a few feet away, close enough to see clearly now. His chest wasn't moving. His eyes barely open, staring at nothing. His skin had no vibrancy of life.
This was death.
She had seen death before, but the funeral homes had eased the visual, making a person look peaceful, like they were sleeping. This was nothing like that. This was horrible and real, and she couldn't look away.
Nana June approached the bench with careful, measured steps, as Sara Lee pulled back on Pippi’s leash.Her grandmother bent slightly, examining Raymond's face, his position. She didn't touch him, but her gaze was thorough, almost professional.
"Sara Lee." Nana June's voice cut through the panic. Her grandmother moved closer, one hand reaching out to gently touch Sara Lee's arm. "Sweetheart, step back. Call the Sheriff." Her voice was soft and calm. "I'll stay here."
Sara Lee's hands shook as she pulled out her phone and pulled Pippi back. Her fingers fumbled with the screen, nearly dropping it twice before she managed to dial 911.
"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?"
"There's—" Sara Lee's voice cracked. She swallowed hard. "There's a body. In Meadowlark Creek Park. Near the bandstand. I think he's dead."
The dispatcher's voice stayed calm and professional, asking questions Sara Lee answered on autopilot. No, they hadn't touched him. Yes, they would stay at the scene. When she hung up, her hands were still shaking. For some reason she couldn't explain, she scrolled through her contacts and called Carl.
He answered on the second ring, his voice warm. "Sara Lee? To what do I owe this early call?"
"Can you come to the park?" The words tumbled out too fast. "Near the bandstand. There's... something happened."
"I'll be right there." He didn’t question or hesitate, but gave her the immediate certainty she needed.
Sara Lee stood, phone clutched in her hand, trying not to look at Raymond's body and failing. Nana Junehad moved around the bench, her gaze down to where the flask lay, being careful not to disturb anything but clearly cataloging every detail.
"Nana June, what are you doing?"
"Observing." Her grandmother bent over carefully and peered at something on the ground. If Sara Lee wasn’t mistaken, grandmother was sniffing.
"We shouldn't?—"
"I'm not touching anything." Nana June stood slowly, brushing her skirt down. She looked at the flask, at Raymond's jacket pocket where Sara Lee could now see a piece of paper protruding slightly. "The medical examiner will need to see all of this exactly as it is."
The sound of an approaching vehicle made them both turn. Sheriff Gordon's patrol car pulled up to the park's edge, followed immediately by Deputy Parsons’ pickup truck. They must have been together when the call came through. Now that Sara Lee thought about it, they were probably having their Sunday morning ritual of breakfast at the diner.
Sheriff Gordon climbed out of his car with the slow, deliberate movements of a man who'd rather be anywhere else. He was a good sheriff, but he'd chosen Meadowlark Creek specifically because it was quiet. A big fish in a little pond, as he'd said more than once. He’d served many years in a big city, and now appreciated getting to know the residents and helping when he could. Dead bodies sitting on a park bench weren't supposed to happen here.
Deputy Tom climbed down from his truck, his facecreased with concern. He started toward them, but the sheriff held up a hand as he looked around.
"Tom, I’ll need you to secure the scene first."
The deputy nodded and walked over to the sheriff’s vehicle, popped the trunk, and dug around for a few minutes. He finally grabbed a roll of yellow crime scene tape and hustled over. It struck Sara Lee that she couldn’t remember ever seeing crime scene tape put up anywhere in Meadowlark Creek, and that was probably the reason it was buried in the Sheriff’s trunk. And as Tom cordoned off the area, it seemed too bright and official for their sleepy little town.
