The woman’s body lay behind a bush in the darkened yard of my neighbor, as yet undiscovered. On my morning walk, in my neighborhood, over by the huge bush of a neighbor's yard lay a woman's body. My neighbor, who was on an extended vacation in Jamaica, wasn't home and wouldn't be for a while. It was my duty to contact the police. Or at least I thought. While I waited for an emergency response, I thought it was necessary to look around. I wanted to see if I found any clues to the fate of this woman. I was curious but knowledgeable; I should not touch anything, as it would contaminate any evidence. My father taught me a few things from his service. He always advised me not to touch anything at a crime scene. It was evidence in solving the case. After a quick glance over my shoulder, I look both ways down the street. I felt confident that no one was around the area. When I faced the young woman lying behind the bush, I saw it. A glint of sparkle, shining as the sun hit it with its beams. Walking closer, I see that the object is a key. A key? But to what, I thought. What is taking the police so long to respond?
I am sitting on the curb of the road. Always glancing at the surrounding area. The woman's body is behind a bush in my neighbor's yard. I am afraid to move. I fear the unidentified unsub, like my dad used to say, returning to the scene of the crime. So, I constantly jump at every sound of a broken twig. I feel like someone is watching me. I can't seem to relax. I'm ready to run off in a sprint if I were to see someone who looked suspicious. Then I hear it. The sound of sirens in the distance is coming my way. As soon as they reach the house, the cops park their car. It seems like they stop only inches away from where I was sitting.
Two middle-aged men walk out of the police car, with both officers placing their hats on their heads. I introduce myself as Miss Walker, the daughter of John Walker, a secret service agent of thirty years. The second one extends his hand to me. The first one asks if I was the woman who called in the body that was found. I point them in the direction of the body. We all walk over to it while Hubert, the first officer, starts to ask me questions. Questions like, did I know who the woman was? What was I doing when I found the woman? When did I find her? Where were the people who owned the house? And how?... The officer stopped in his tracks and also mid-sentence when he saw that the woman obviously was already decomposing. A fact that told us both that she had been there for a while. I gasped. I took in all the air my lungs held. My hand covered my mouth to stifle a scream. I knew she was my neighbor. At the young age of sixteen, there she lay, decomposing. In her own yard, only feet away from the safety of the front door. But also, why was she here? I was told the family was going on vacation to Jamaica.
