Thirty two stab wounds, made by multiple knives, mutilated genitalia, a body about a week old suggestively posed, and cause of death was excessive bleeding. Going by the amount of overkill, this was personal. Coach Duran had been tortured.
Unfortunately because of the recent rains, coyote bites and maggots, it was going to be very difficult to get any prints or clean DNA.
There was nothing further to be done here.

Nothing like this had ever happened in sleepy Oothu, and despite the obscure location of the crime scene, a large crowd had gathered and the chatter was on.

Detective Sky stayed back to listen. Small town gossip often revealed useful clues.

“Who would want to kill Coach Duran?”

“I don’t know. But remember the old rumours.”

“Surely you don’t believe that!”

“Crap, it’s hardly been ten days since the school honoured him.”

“God, so many of his star athletes came into town for the felicitation.”

“Ya, almost thirty two of them, right?”

 


Written for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers with photo prompt provided by Tim Livingston with the blog, The ForesterArtist.

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