09:42 PM

ABBINGTON, MICHIGAN

09 NOVEMBER 2018

Police responded to a domestic violence call at 111 Burley Street Friday evening to find that both parents were deceased. Rachel and Dean Harper had both been victims of homicide, both estimated to have been murdered Both were heavily mutilated with a blunt end of a weapon. The wounds inflicted were too deep to have come from a kitchen knife; police believe an axe or hatchet was likely the weapon. The couple’s ten year old son, Ethan, has not been found anywhere on the premises. No suspects have been identified.

The air was crisp that Friday night, frigid with the harrowing reminder that the biting winter was only a mere month around the corner. Soon enough, Abbington, along with all of the Detroit metropolitan area, would be coated with a thick layer of snow.

However, the time for snow and ice was not yet.

Detective Oliver Thibodeau arrived on the scene at 9:42 to see the horrors that had befallen Rachel and Dean Harper. He was used to this kind of bullshit happening on an almost daily basis on the south end of Detroit, but this police work was a rare occurrence north of the GM offices. Maybe once a month was there any 911 call he was involved in.

Officer Wyatt Haddock was the one to meet him at the bottom of the porch steps. “Good evening, Detective Thibodeau,” he greeted.

“Good evening, Officer Haddock,” he exchanged, “I was told the call was put in for domestic violence. Is that not the case?”

Haddock shook his head. “It began that way. The caller, who we established was Ethan Harper, hung up suddenly about six minutes before officers arrived on scene.” Haddock showed Oliver a picture. “This is Ethan Harper.”

“Oh shit. The boy called in and then hung up?” Oliver asked.

Time frames like that were never good. If it was thirty seconds before police arrived, that would be a different story; there was a more definitive scope of what might’ve happened to the kid. But six minutes . . . six minutes might as well have been six years. The scope of possibilities blew up from a few lawns to a few NFL football fields.

He sighed. “What was happening before the call was disconnected?” Oliver inquired.

Haddock bowed his head as if he was a guilty dog being yelled at for getting into food they weren’t supposed to. He then said something no detective wants to hear, especially in a case that involves homicide and missing kids. “There was silence on his end.”

Oliver breathed a deep sigh before he trudged up the steps and into the bloodsoaked house. To his left was the kitchen and dining room, to his right was the (red) living room. There were gallons of blood splashed in every direction like someone had dropped two of the massive jugs of Hawaiian Punch. The carpets were soaked, the chairs were stained, the walls were freshly coated with a new shade of maroon, and the bodies on the floor were drenched from head to toe.

“No weapon was found?” Oliver questioned.

“Correct,” Haddock confirmed, “No weapon or blunt object that could’ve done this was found on the premises.”

Oliver knelt down over the bloody corpses and examined the scene with his own two eyes. No pictures could ever truly capture just how disgusting the scene was. “Do you know which one died first?”

Haddock paused. “Is that a trick question or do you not know?”

“I don’t know,” Oliver explained.

“Well neither do I,” Haddock responded.

Oliver gave another deep, heavy sigh. He ran through some quick scenarios in his head to try and see how exactly it’d all play out.

Obviously, most of the wounds inflicted were post mortem. The killer decided that cutting throats or stabbing hearts wasn’t enough for this one crime scene.

If the attacker had killed Rachel first (her body had slumped towards the living room table, meaning she was trying to escape from the corner of the room), then that would’ve left Dean time to attack the killer. While it was possible, it was more likely Dean had been stabbed or lacerated first, with Rachel trying to flee the scene. Obviously, the results proved unsuccessful for poor Rachel; that must’ve been one of the final thoughts that ran through her head.