32- Another Victim.

"Mazurka?" Harlowe's voice faded into the background as Mazurka's mind kept wandering.

'Why can't I remember?'

At first, he hadn't even heard the ring tone, his mind consumed by trying to remember what Quayleigh's eye had looked like, but no matter how much he struggled, all he could see was the delicate blue rose embroidered on the navy surface.

"MAZURKA!"

The sudden increased volume of his name erupting through his phone directly into his ear, snapped him from his wandering, grabbing his attention once again.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm a bit distracted."

"No kidding! Have you heard a SINGLE word I've said?"

"Sorry, sorry. I'm with you now."

He heard the heavy sigh from Harlowe as he pulled his keys from his pocket.

"Just tell me where you're at?"

"I'm still in the Downs," he replied as he started his car. "I was just about to head to the last crime scene to get another look around."

"Fine but be quick. We've got another body."

"Another? Recent?" Mazurka questioned as he sat up straight and looked over at his clock. 'How long have I been sitting here?'

"I don't have the details yet. Got the call from the Chief over in Clairemont Heights. The Daughter called it in. The Detective there confirmed that it's one of ours. I just forwarded you the details. Folsten and I are headed to the MET. I can't afford to miss the meeting."

Mazurka's phone chimed, notifying him of the arrival of the text. Checking to ensure that it was from Harlowe, he responded, "Just got the info. I'll head there now. I can swing back here later."

"Good. I'm counting on you. Stay focused."

"Yeah, I got it."

"We'll meet up with you after our meeting. I doubt it will take long," Harlowe grumbled before hanging up the phone.

"Shit! I need to keep it together!" He slammed his hands against the steering wheel as he berated himself. 'Idiot! Think about her later! You need to focus!' Taking a breath, he rubbed his hands up over his face and then vigorously shook his head before slapping his cheeks. "Okay, head in the game. First things first, where in the Height's am I headed."

Picking up his phone he read over Harlowe's message muttering, "Churchill Parkway," as he entered the address into his navigation system.

Mazurka left the parking lot as the system instructed him on the fastest way to reach his destination, which was on the northwest side of Clairemont Heights, only a stone's throw from the most affluent area of Center Hills.

It took a little over a half hour for Mazurka to arrive at the address Harlowe had sent. Pulling into the driveway of the very large estate, he was surprised to see that it was still swarming with police, crime scene investigators, and near a dozen civilians huddled together on the front lawn. He assumed they were the family and friends of the deceased given the wet eyes, reddened faces, and distraught expressions, with the exception of a tall, lanky man dressed in a designer suit.

"Who calls a lawyer this quick?" Mazurka snickered as he parked off to the side, not wanting to block anyone in.

Stepping from his car, he took a long, slow, deliberate look around. He wanted to take in the terrain, to see what was visible. Mansions on the distant hills, the open manicured lawn and sculpted hedges. The apple trees hung low with vibrant red fruit, six in total; three strategically placed in a row up the center of the lawn on each side of the lengthy stone drive.

The grounds felt secluded surrounded by soft pines, but from the tree rows to the house, there was very little cover, making it appear open and airy.

"Detective Yechiel Mazurka?" Someone asked from behind him.

"Yes, that's me," he replied, turning to face the man who had spoken.

He was a shorter individual with the build of a marathon runner, sharp features, deep tan complexion, and a long, thick, wavy mane of black hair.

"I'm Detective Hakan Kavak from the sixth precinct. The Chief told me to expect you and to get you up to speed."

"Hakan, I thought I recognized you. It's been a few years, but we were at the Turnage police academy around the same time."

He smiled and chuckled, "I didn't think you would remember. We only ran drills together a couple of times before I graduated. I admit that I was surprised to see your name come up when I was told to expect a member of the special task force. I figured the higherups would have wanted their most seasoned veterans on this case, especially given Freetier's reputation."

"You aren't wrong. I'm only a part of this because of my partner. Our chief wanted him heading up the taskforce, so I got dragged into this mess with him."

"Well at least you already have a few years under your belt. This is not a case I'd want to work as a rookie," Hakan remarked as he motioned for Mazurka to walk with him.

"I couldn't agree more. So, fill me in. What's going on here?"

"The victim's name is Makayla Schneider. She was discovered in her bedroom, face up on the floor, around a quarter passed ten by her daughter Hallencia, who goes by Haley. That's her in the black dress," Hakan explained as he pointed towards a mid-thirty's brunette in a long-sleeved black cocktail dress standing next to the tall gentleman, Mazurka had pegged for a lawyer.

"Have you spoken to her yet?"

"She insisted on waiting for her lawyer."

"Silver hair in the suit?"

"That would be him. He only arrived a few minutes before you, so I haven't made my way over there yet. Given the nature of the victim's death though, I doubt she will be able to tell us anything about what happened."

"You were the one who confirmed the victim was a part of our case?" Mazurka asked as they stopped just outside of the entry way to the large stone mansion.

"I was. I've been briefed on what to look for, but I wasn't prepared to see it." Hakan's eyes waivered as he looked off to the side recalling what he had seen.

"No one can be prepared. I've seen them all, and it still gets to me," Mazurka consoled him with a heavy hand upon the shoulder. "Have they moved the body yet?"

"Not yet. The team's still processing the scene."

"So why the lawyer?" Mazurka said more out of curiosity than a posed questioned.

"Probably because the place was ransacked. What we don't know is if that happened before or after the murder and we're waiting on a warrant to obtain the security footage."

"Are there cameras inside or only on the exterior?" he questioned with a sharpened glare.

"We discovered a 'nanny cam' in the bedroom, and given the way these people live, we just requested a warrant. No point in hoping that they would just hand over the footage. They maybe cooperative, but don't expect anything useful for free."

Mazurka swallowed at the news, questions circulating through his thoughts; why was there a nanny cam? Why was the house ransacked? Why did this crime scene feel so different from the last?

"Well, should we go have a word with Ms. Schneider?"

"It's Mrs. Baxter, and after you."

Mazurka grimaced as he pulled out his notepad and pen and began to make notes as they walked towards the group of people on the lawn.

"Mrs. Baxter?"

"Yes?" the woman in black replied as she turned and looked up at Mazurka. She was petite, and the raw reddened hue of her cheeks looked painful but didn't take away from her pleasant appearance.

"I'm Detective Yechiel Mazurka. You've already met Detective Kavak. I was hoping that you would be willing to sit down and speak with us for a few minutes. Your lawyer is more than welcome to join us," he added as she glanced up at the silver haired man.

"I'm Diederik Maarschalkerweerd, the family's attorney. I've advised Mrs. Baxter to cooperate as best as she's able, but given the circumstances, at this time, I'd ask that you keep it brief."

"Diederik was it?" Mazurka questioned as he turned towards him.

"That is correct."

Mazurka smiled unamused, "I think it's best if you let me decide when I've asked enough questions. Mrs. Baxter, is there a place we can go to sit down?"

"There's a patio, around the side. This way," she replied, her voice meek as she wiped the tears from her eyes and proceeded to guide the detectives around to the side of the large house to a veranda with a patio set.

Once everyone had taken a seat, Mazurka began his questioning.

"When was the last time you spoke with your mother?"

"Yesterday afternoon. She was supposed to meet me for breakfast, but never showed. She's never late for anything, so I tried to call. She never answered her phone."

"Was this unusual behavior?"

"Yes. It was completely out of character, but I kept thinking that maybe something came up. I know Christopher…"

"That's her older brother," Diederik interrupted.

"Yes, my older brother. I know his wife isn't due for another month, but maybe the baby came early, and her phone wasn't charged, or in her excitement she forgot it and couldn't message. I was wrong. I called Chris and he said he hadn't spoken to her. I tried calling again. I gave her a million excuses as to why she wasn't answering, why she hadn't shown up. I thought maybe I had misunderstood our plans. That I had made a mistake with the hour, the day, the location, something, anything. I just didn't think I needed to rush over. I told myself everything was fine, and I was overreacting to nothing. I tried calling from the car, but when she didn't answer yet again, I started to panic. I knew something was wrong. When I got here, the front door was open. The alarm had been disarmed; the house is in complete disarray. My mother would never allow the house to look like this. I knew she had to be home, her car's still in the drive. I ran through the house yelling for her; she never answered." She drew silent as tears began to drip down her cheeks again.

"When you found her, did you call emergency immediately?"

"I… I was in shock," she stuttered as she looked up at Mazurka. "I ran out of the house. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I thought I was going to be sick. That couldn't have been her. She looked so frightened. I've never seen my mother scared. She isn't afraid of anything." She paused and swallowed, taking a breath to regain her composure. "I don't know how long it took me to call. Fifteen, twenty minutes, maybe."

"It's okay, Mrs. Baxter. I know this has been tremendously traumatic for you. But I need to ask you one more question. Did you go back into the house after you called?"

"No, no I haven't been back inside." she straightened herself in her seat and took another deep breath as she wiped at her cheeks. "Detective, what happened to my mother?"

Mazurka lowered his eyes to the table. He couldn't tell her that her mother was a victim of a serial killer or a hit man's target. He couldn't admit that it was probably some form of magic that killed her. At present he only had Hakan's word to go on that this was even a part of the case, thus he opted for the standard police response, "I don't know Mrs. Baxter, but that's what we're here to find out."