Entropy by Robert Raker Read Free Book Online Page A

shadows cast by a huge tree that overlooked an abnormally large patch of dead grass. There was nothing else around besides blackness. All of the farming equipment must have been in or behind the barn, or maybe stolen and salvaged for scrap.
    I noticed a pronounced slope in the ground as I walked. There might have been a pool there once, or possibly a pond. I kneeled and moved my hands across the area and pushed aside a piece of rotted fruit. I dropped it back onto the ground and inhaled to the point where I could no longer compress air within my lungs. I couldn’t swim on land, much as I wanted to. Leaning forward, I noticed an insect cocoon. I picked it up. It was still unbroken after all this time. I stood up and looked at the circles from the flashlights passing across the landscape. The coroner’s van pulled away from the house.
    I walked towards a neglected cornfield, kicking several petrified cobs as circles of light continued to dance in the gloom. I looked around. There were hundreds of rotted cobs that were spread, like brave and fallen infantry soldiers of an unrecorded military campaign. When my father’s body had been found in our pond, he was surrounded by peaches; burning spheres of boldness and authenticity resting on the surface. His lungs were satiated with water. No one had reported him missing for three days. I should have been there. The chrysalis broke apart between my fingers. There were still the remains of an insect inside.
    Body Number Four (April): Molly Janikowski, 14 years old. Her body was found inside a scrap metal storage facility that was under construction. Construction had been suspended at the site. Molly was discovered floating in the basement foundation. The 5,000 square foot area was filled with little more than forty-two inches of water and mud, washed down from the hillside at the rear of the site. The land of the building site used to be a small golf course.
    An 8:00 p.m. curfew was instituted for anyone under the age of sixteen. The Governor of the state was beginning to apply pressure because of the complete absence of any real physical evidence; nothing that could guarantee a conviction in a court of law. It would all be circumstantial without conclusive DNA evidence. The District Attorney wouldn’t prosecute without the confidence that he could secure a conviction. After so many months of investigation, there were still no reported suspects, just a few “persons of interest”, and no substantial evidence that could be used to determine a clear motive, or link an individual to each of the crimes. All registered sex offenders were accounted for and had been cleared by the department with help from officials in surrounding counties. The radius of the search now covered almost 100 miles.
    Mull, the coroner and the lead forensic investigator had been called into several meetings over the last few weeks to provide updates to local politicians and news stations. There were several leads phoned into local and national tip lines that had been set up by volunteers, but nothing materialized from any of them. Pressure mounted on State and Federal agencies to come up with a fresh lead and a suspect. Some parents and local community leaders had scheduled a town meeting, to address the situation and possible upcoming changes in the investigation. They felt that they weren’t being kept appraised of what was happening. It was rumored that an undercover agent, who specialized in cases involving the sexual assault of children, had been assigned to the case, but no one in the department knew for sure, not even Detective Mull.
    The soil around the foundation of the structure looked like spilled paint; a bright, rusted color spread out across the ground, a unique hue reserved for antique light fixtures and Southern-styled patio furniture. It came from the color of the clay unearthed during the construction. Detective Mull paced the edge of the scene slowly, wearing a pair of