Death, doves and a little bit of panicking
To Absquatulate is to leave abruptly; to leave without saying goodbye.
That was exactly what Barbra Holland did on Sunday April 10th 1993, though it was not by choice, and most certainly not by accident.
*
She eased herself into the pool, glad of some way to relax after organising endlessly for her boss, and though she liked her boss, enjoyed her company as well as her job, Barb was glad of some time to herself in the warm night air, shutting her eyes and laying her head back she allowed the water to ebb over her, to explore her every ache, her every annoyance of the day, she allowed it to take them all away.
Dismissing the light footsteps behind her the redhead continued to be in a state of her own mind, a fatal mistake on her part.
A mechanical clunking trickled through the night air, slim marigold gloved hands grabbed her shoulders, her head was under water, her lungs were filling, she struggled, she kicked, a knife on the back of her ankles rendered her struggling pointless, she bled.
She died.
*
"Drowned?" The forensics knelt against the mosaic of bloodied blue tiles around the pool.
"Seems it" one of the detectives peered down at the waterlogged, pale corpse, laid out in a white body bag, something was off.
*
Some exceedingly peculiar feeling enveloped Nancy Wheeler that Monday morning as she brushed her hair out of her face, the orange of sunrise merging with the pink, shining in her eyes warmly, this was the sort of day that things happened, and of course on this particular day something did happen.
Making her way to her office through the city streets proved difficult that morning, in opposition to her home town New York City was one of the busiest places on earth, cab drivers shouting left and right and hurried pedestrians shouldering their way through crowds, glad of the fact that she'd worn a sturdy pair of boots Nancy trudged on, glancing at the sky briefly, taking to account the oncoming rain.
"Miss Wheeler?!" Chrissy's mild New Jersey accent yelled to her from her small,not an ounce dingy, office.
"Coming!"
She quickly shrugged off her tanned trench coat and let down her hair, throwing the discarded garment across the back of an old armchair and rolling up her shirt sleeves, adjusting her suspenders.
The blonde sat at her desk, the tardis blue phone pressed against her ear.
"Mhm" Chrissy paused, jotting some things down in a notepad "mhm, okayy mr Hagen she'll be back to you soon, okay, Mhm, Bub-bye"
Nancy gave Chrissy a puzzled look and her partners cheery disposition changed quickly into one that was only seen when she was onto something.
"Murder case up at Long Island, victim is a 25 year old Caucasian female, red haired, finger shaped bruises to the shoulders and neck, heel tendons cut clean in half"
The blonde observed as Nancys face paled, perhaps it was the fact that she'd been called to deal with a murder case, perhaps she hadn't taken her aspirin, Chrissy continued.
"Barbra Holland, assistant to a Ms Robin Buckley"
Barbra Holland.
Nancys old high school girlfriend.
She'd been a sweet girl, pretty too, but Nancy hadn't been able to live with the fact that she perhaps wasn't as much of a clean slate as she thought, the break up had been mutual, neither girl held anything against the other, and yet Nancy felt an immense amount of guilt that she'd outlived Barbra.
"What're we being asked to do?"
She ran a hand through her hair, falling in neat curls around her defined jaw, doing her best to keep herself collected.
"Sit down and I'll tell ya"
Nancy allowed herself to melt into one of three plush, mismatched, armchairs as her crime scene photographer (and best friend) Jonathan Byers strode through the door, sweater and hair drenched through as he slid off his shoes and perched them upside down on the electric heater by the desk, wordlessly going into the back room to develop some film.
*
Robins stomach churned, she hadn't eaten since yesterday, she hadn't had time to, barb was dead and there was nothing she could do but wait on private investigation, she set her head down on the desk, mind filled with thoughts about her friends last moments, her last words to Robin had been overly formal for someone she'd known since middle school, Robin had found (and still did find) that that had been very strange.
She hadn't a single inkling of what happened to the redhead, and yet she was being questioned left and right.
"Would there be any reason for someone to kill Barbra?" Officer bowman and chief Hopper stared at her from across the table
"Not that I know of- you will find whoever did it soon right?"
"We're trying Miss Buckley"
Vomit had been sitting in her stomach since she'd first found out, it burned her throat when she thought of the unusually red tiles by the pool.
A knock at the door pulled her attention away from her thoughts as the downpour outside became heavier, she opened the door, vaguely making out two figures behind the misted glass.
"Byers Wheeler detective agency?" The woman, around a head shorter than herself, asked, large blue eyes peering up at her, Robin felt her heart skip slightly as she looked down at (who she assumed to be) miss Wheeler.
Nodding she allowed them in, offering them each a drink and a seat.
*
It was unknown to Jonathan why Nancy appeared so passionately frustrated about this case, or rather why she was more passionately frustrated than usual, he'd watched her give the lady that answered the door a curt nod and a sympathetic smile as the two spoke about what could've possibly happened the night prior.
He wasn't interested in that too much, he peaked through intricately patterned antique lace curtains into the yard, eyeing the half closed pool cover, he'd keep it in mind to investigate at later.
*
Nancy could see that miss Buckley had been crying, she could see it in the way that there was blood on her lips and streaks along her cheekbones, her eyes were slightly pink, as if the sadness had left her in a state of being stoned, it didn't appear that Buckley had many coherent thoughts at this time.
"Do you know of anyone who would've had anything against Barbra?"
She placed a hand tenderly on Buckleys leg as she opened her mouth, originally for no words to fall out, her clients voice wavered as she spoke, as if it were made of cracked glass
"Not that I know of.."
*
The urge to be swallowed into a pit of poisoned molasses overwhelmed Robin, at the moment she didn't want to think, she didn't want to breath. Her eyes prickled, her lungs shrank and her throat burned.
"Excuse me for a second please."
She disappeared into the bathroom, locking the door and leaning over the sink.
Whoever killed Barb obviously hadn't bothered to acquaint her, she was a lively soul, sarcastic, smooth talking, Robin had liked her, she had been a good friend for a while.
Though she couldn't bare to look at herself Robin stared intensely into the mirror, she looked like she hadn't slept, overly pale she reminded herself of the Edward scissorhands movie, she felt sick thinking about that film, barb had shown it to her.
She wretched, keeling over as the contents of her stomach emptied into the sink. Not often was it that she threw up, but every time she did she felt some inhuman disgust that she could do such a thing.
In hindsight she supposed it was a good thing her stomach was empty because once again she felt the spinning of nausea in her abdomen, and once again she threw up. (Clear this time, for the only thing she had left was water)
Someone knocked at the door, she assumed it'd be someone she knew, checking on her, then she remembered they were all out of town this weekend, they wouldn't be back until tomorrow.
Carefully she creaked it open, poking her face into the gap. Nancy Wheeler stared up at her.
"Hi..why don't you let me in yeah? We can talk away from the others that way?"
Reluctantly Robin allowed the detective to pass through the door, she perched herself neatly on the edge of the bath, Robin followed suite, lifting herself onto one of the counters.
After around a minute of silence the detective spoke up, staring at Robin contently.
"You miss her?"
Robin nodded, Nancy pressed, feeling the repent of her previous fear as she went on.
"What was she like?"
A faint smile lingered for a moment on robin's lips.
"She was one of my best friends..probably the brightest person in the room..hell i already muss her"
She picked at the green nail polish on her fingers and Nancy nodded.
"You know, we never did introduce ourselves properly did we?" The curly haired of the two asked, tilting her head and observing her reaction carefully "I'm Nancy"
She nodded, giving the woman a small smile "Robin"
"If you like I can give you something of Barbs? We were acquainted a while back"
Very well acquainted actually, with every single inch of eachother, but she wasn't telling Robin that.
As Robin nodded Nancy removed one of the charms from her bracelet, leaving two behind, the one that she dropped into robins hand was a dove, one of the two left behind was its counterpart.
"You guys were friends huh?"
Nancy nodded, biting her tongue slightly.
"I can help you put it on if you'd like?"
"Please?"
Robin unclipped the thin chain around her neck, allowing Nancy to thread the dove onto it, Robin felt the girls thin, warm fingers graze the back of her neck as her hair was pushed aside, she could smell Nancys perfume, though she couldn't place it to save her life, the pit of her stomach jumped to her mouth and plummeted between her legs to her knees as if she were in a supersonic elevator.
She couldn't help feel every movement the detective made as she fumbled slightly with the small clasp, she could feel Nancys thigh against her back and her bracelets brushing the nape of her neck like whispers loose from their secret corral.
"Done" she patted robins shoulder, once again giving her an empathetic smile.
"Thank you Nancy..you've been more useful than the two walking muppet parodies outside.."
Nancy chuckled, she'd done nothing really, but comforting Robin had too put her mind at ease, she quite liked the girl, she seemed to be a quiet chaos as opposed to the chaotic quiet that she was used to spending all her time around Jonathan. Speaking of which-
"Nancy! Come look at this!"