Free Tunnel Vision by Brenda Adcock Page A

the side of the rusty dumpster. Everyone working at the scene wore a filtered mask to avoid the smell, except Frank. Brodie often thought he must have been born without olfactory nerves. Otherwise, no one could have stood the smells associated with his work. She was grateful for the slight breeze that seemed to be blowing the odor from the body and the dumpster away from them. Frank smiled when he saw her.
    “Great afternoon, huh, Brodie?”
    “Delightful, Frank. How’s it going?”
    “He’s about ready to come out of hiding,” he said, looking behind her as he spoke. “Glad to see you brought the fox with you. Single?”
    “I have no idea, but since she’s still alive and kickin’ I don’t think she’s your type.”
    “Ah, yes. But hope springs eternal.”
    “Maria would deep-fry your cojones for lunch if she knew you were even looking,” she said.
    “Which reminds me. Farmed the kiddies out to grandmacita for a coupla days and Maria and I have made big plans that don’t involved a deep-fryer,”
    Frank said with a wide smile.
    “No plans until I get my report, Frank.”
    “Don’t worry, I’ll give you a complete report on the Headless Horseman before the close of business today. You want me to send him over to Travis County?”
    “Yeah. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to get another John Doe from us.”
    She looked around to see what had happened to Nicholls and Maggie. Nicholls was talking to a uniformed officer whom she assumed had been the first on the scene. Maggie was squatted down next to two boys who looked about twelve or thirteen years old. One of the boys was doing all the talking, using his hands like a hyperactive Italian. The second boy was sweating profusely and appeared to be on the verge of fainting. Maggie patted the boy’s shoulder and handed him a tissue from her jacket pocket.
    “Hey! You! Shit for brains! I know the guy’s already dead, but try not to mutilate him any further,” she heard Frank yell. One man climbed out of the dumpster and was holding onto one end of a stretcher. He had to stand in an awkward position to raise the stretcher through the opening which was an inch or two narrower than the stretcher. Frank trotted over to help his men turn the stretcher just enough to get it out. The black body bag strapped to the stretcher glistened as sunlight struck its vinyl exterior. Nicholls and Maggie joined her as she watched the men work.
    “Think it’s the rest of our victim?” Nicholls asked.
    “I sure hope so, or we’ll be hunting for body parts again. What did you two find out?”
    “The uniform didn’t know much. Checked the dumpster and lost his lunch,” he said.
    “I’m sure those kids found that extremely
    helpful,” she said.
    “The kids appear to be okay,” Maggie said. “Their parents have been notified and I had a unit transport them to the hospital.”
    “Were they hurt?”
    “Not really. One of them may be suffering from shock, but he wasn’t the one who found the vic. The second boy was in the dumpster. When he found the body it startled him. Scratched his arm on the dumpster, so I thought someone should look at it. Might need a tetanus shot or something.”
    Brodie looked at her and smiled. “Good thinking. We can get a statement from them tomorrow. Give them a chance to calm down a little.” Remembering a time they had discussed having one or two of their own, Brodie’s smile faded away as quickly as it had appeared.
    “The Scoutmaster said they’ve been collecting aluminum cans for recycling and received a phone call this morning telling them to check out the dumpsters around here,” Maggie added, looking over her notes.
    “Did he get the name of the caller?” Brodie asked.
    “No.”
    “Who the hell calls in a tip for aluminum cans?”
    Nicholls asked.
    “Maybe the perp figured we needed a little help locating the body,” Brodie said.
    “Well, there’s no way in hell we’ll get any useable prints off that dumpster,”