100 Ways to Solve a Murder-Chapter 65: Murder of the 15th X

Present-day.

Marco sat on the passenger seat while Levi drove towards Guys Hospital.

"Levi," Marco said, trying to get his attention. The slicked blond hummed, urging him to continue.

"Sam’s body, who’s handling her? Is she in Guy’s?" Marco asked.

Were they taking care of her, like she did those bodies she handled? Was she being treated with respect, like she deserved? Marco mentally pondered.

"Was," Levi answered.

"Was?"

"She was cremated, Marco. It was written in her last will. Ashes are flying to America as we speak." Levi lied through his teeth.

"That fast, Levi? It has only been 3 days." Marco replied shocked at the news.

"Would you prefer she be subject to every forensic pathologist scrutinizing gaze, Marco? You know what happens on that examining table." Levi replied jaw tensed imagining it.

Marco frowned, "I’m sorry, I just thought...I thought I’d get to see her one last time." He apologized. He was just sad about not seeing her one last time. He wanted closure maybe, perhaps he needed something concrete to believe she was gone. And that it was time to move on.

"Anna’s people looked after her, she was handled...carefully. Every evidence was taken efficiently and carefully, every fact, every detail..." Levi said that was not a lie. They did take care of her.

"Did you know she had a special clause on her Will? That if she doesn’t die of natural causes, old age, or accident; evidence be taken within 24hours of her demise and she is cremated soon after. We are following her wishes, Marco." The first part was true, but the last part was a load of bull, he knew. But telling something truthful with a lie makes it more convincing.

The two arrived at their destination 15 minutes later.

Janet, Clarke, and Jones worked together in the main Lab, assisting Jones with his tests.

When Levi entered the premises with Marco, Janet frowned. She felt sad. She knew how close the two were. How much time they’ve spent together the past year. It was like since their paths crossed, their lives had changed for the better. They understood each other in ways no one ever could. They had a special bond no one could deny.

Jones exchanged looks with Marco then got back to work. He was under a lot of pressure, more so that their supposed lead of forensics had been murdered. Now, he didn’t particularly like her personally, but he did cry knowing that the legend of forensic science was gone.

Who will they turn to now?

Clarke on the other hand couldn’t help but glare at the blond psychologist, his boss was dead and he was honestly itching to punch the slicked blond who looked like he didn’t give a damn. Just one punch would make a huge difference.

Jones tore his eyes away from the microscope then turned to address Levi.

"Took you long enough," he said.

Levi put on a pair of white latex gloves, and he approached the box of evidence and he inspected it through its resealable bag. "Jones, why are you upset, you hated her," he asked.

"I didn’t hate her." Jones defended, "We just...did not always agree." He added, sniffing. He was getting emotional again.

"Yes, whatever you say, Jones." Levi brushed off, wanting to get to the important things. He didn’t have time to entertain their feelings.

Levi turned to a green-haired woman, "Janet, tell me what you got." He instructed, eyes resting at Clarke for a moment. He noticed the younger man glaring at him with hatred, nose flared. Levi scoffed amused, he always knew the bloke hated him. Jealousy of some kind.

"What? Are you going to punch me? Come at me, Clarke!" Levi challenged him. Offering his chiseled face for effect.

"Clarke, come on. Elle was able to lay one on me. Go ahead." He continued to taunt the man.

Marco scowled, standing behind him. "Don’t antagonize him, he’s upset," Marco advised.

Levi looked at Marco,

"He clearly wants to do it, shoulders tense, jaw clenched and hands fisted." He said smugly as if he’s asking to be punched.

Seconds later Clarke swung his fist towards the slicked blond. Levi avoided it with ease, tripping the young intern in the process. The younger man fell face-first on the tiled floor, skidding a bit as he did so.

Janet felt her blood boil, why were they acting so childishly in such a grim situation. The director just died, she was gone!

"STOP! STOP RIGHT NOW!" She shouted, furious. Getting in between the two-man. She turned to Levi first, and she slapped him real hard, making Marco flinch at the sound it made, Clarke and Jones both grinned in approval. He could be a dick sometimes he deserved to be slapped once in a while, they thought.

Then Janet shifted to face Clark and slapped him across the face as well. His face whiplashing to the side surprised at the strength of the blow.

Both men rubbed their burning cheeks quietly.

Janet bit her lower lip, trembling and she started to tear up, but she reeled it in. She was determined not to cry, she could cry later when this was over.

"She’s gone! Dr. Gray is gone! Now get your asses back to work so we can get her the justice she deserves!" She shouted, tears threatening to fall.

Everyone looked at her surprised but nobody moved. Too shocked at her sudden bout of confidence.

Glaring at each one, she shouted, "BACK TO WORK!" And everyone scurried away.

....

54 hours left.

It was cold, that’s what she initially felt. Then her chest started to ache, lungs burning, begging for air. Memories flashed before her green eyes. Her struggle, the water filling her lungs while she was left in the tub to drown. The lights broke into thousands of pieces from underneath the water.

She thought it was pretty. It’s not a bad sight to see in her final moment, wasn’t it?

She saw flashes of the floor, as she was dragged towards the bathroom. Flashes of Mo, lifeless in her parlor.

Rona, sprawled on the floor, bathing in her own blood.

And one word kept wanting to escape her throat, a name, yet she can no longer scream. Levi.

She was too weak.

Her motor functions left her first, next was her vision, and she could only see darkness.

Sight

Smell

Feel

Hearing

That’s how senses one by one disappear in death.

The hearing was last always to go.

And while her sight and motor functions disappeared, she could still feel him. Hear him hover and move above her.

Her eyes were wide open, but she couldn’t see. She couldn’t even blink her eyes close. She could feel his breath fan against her face, the smell of his breath. The touch of his fingers against her cheeks, her neck.

He was caressing her. Why?

He seemed familiar, she knew him.

Most of all, he knew her. But how?

She tried to recall the seconds before he attacked her from behind, she recalled his hands were gloved and he was wearing long sleeves.

How did he know she could....

Elle saw Sam’s hand move, her eyes started to flicker, and she stood from her seat on the sofa and approached the redhead on the bed.

"Sam. Sam. Can you hear me?" Elle spoke softly, anticipating her return to consciousness.

Green eyes met brown, and Elle expelled a sigh of relief.

She’s awake!

The brunette smiled down at her, "How are you feeling?" She asked while checking her vital signs on the monitor. It was normal.

Elle frowned when she didn’t answer.

"Sam? Can you hear me?" She called again, starting to worry at the young woman’s unresponsive state.

"I can--hear you," Sam replied, voice slightly hoarse, eyes staring up at nothing.

Elle smiled, pleased she was alert and responsive, that was a good sign.

"Great. For a moment there, I thought you’ve gone deaf." Elle replied jokingly, a relieved giggle escaped her.

Sam smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She could hear her perfectly, but something else was wrong.

"What time is it Elle?" Sam asked. "It’s 9 PM," Elle answered though she found the question odd.

"Alright..." Sam muttered, swallowing an anxious breath. "So, answer me another question, Elle." Sam started, biting her lower lip. Something was truly wrong.

"What is it?" Elle asked, anxious, she knew something was wrong based on the redhead’s tone and the obvious tears dripping down the side of Sam’s face.

Elle watched the redhead place her hand over her eyes as if to make sure it’s open.

Sam clenched her jaw, and she blinked, more tears flowing out of her eyes. "Are the lights on?" She asked, her voice cracking.

Elle gasps, both hands reached to cover her mouth. And her eyes started to water.

"Is it on?" Sam repeated once again, this time louder. She needed an answer, someone to tell her the light is off. Tell her it’s dark.

"It is on," Anna answered, standing by the door. Neither Elle nor Sam had realized someone else entered the room.

Anna approached Sam’s bed, waving her hand slowly to her face. She noticed how her pupils dilated, but it did not follow her hand’s movement. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

"Anna," Sam said, recognizing the voice. She could hear Elle muffling her sobs beside her bed. She knew the brunette couldn’t give her an honest answer.

"Then tell me, why can’t I see?" Sam asked as calmly as she could manage. She bit her lip to stop herself from sobbing, but she failed to control the tears from falling. Elle and Anna exchanged a look, then they turned towards the heart monitor that started beeping nonstop. Her vitals just shot up, in panic.

Anna turned to give Elle a stern look,

"Do call the Doctor, Ms. Hart." She calmly instructed, watching the young redhead take deep breaths to calm herself.