Focus, Pop. Forget about Jax’s masterful kisses and talented hands and focus.
“I’m wearing these black boots,” she continued. “They have tall, chunky heels on them, and when I step on the rock, my ankle twists. I’m trying not to fall, so I throw my arms out to my sides for balance. When I do, the phone flies out of my hand and lands under a nearby dumpster.”
“Do you see the men carrying the body to the car?”
“No.” Poppy shook her head. “Not yet. That’s not for another couple of minutes or so.”
“Tell me what happens in those two or so minutes.”
She thought back, forcing herself to walk through the events from that exact moment frame by frame. “I look around the ground, but I can’t see my phone anywhere. But then it starts to ring. It’s Cam’s ringtone, she’s most likely calling back to make sure I’m okay. I follow the sound, and I realize it had slid beneath the dumpster.”
“The report Detective King had me look at stated that you tried to retrieve it but couldn’t reach it. Is that correct?”
Poppy nodded. “Yes. I got down onto my knees and tried, but it was too far away.”
“Okay, Poppy. You’re doing great,” Isobel commended her. “Now I’d like for you to start really focusing on the details. What does the air feel like that night? What do you smell? Things like that.”
“It’s a little chilly, but not overly so. I don’t really notice much of a smell, per se, until I get closer to the dumpster. It must have been dumped recently because it didn’t smell awful. Just that sort of old trash smell if that makes sense.”
“It does. So you’re on your hands and knees trying to reach the phone, but you can’t, can you?”
“No.” Poppy shook her head. “There’s enough light coming through from the streetlamp that I can see my phone, but I can’t reach it.”
“What did you do next?”
“The phone stops ringing. I decide to try to push the dumpster out of the way, so I start to stand when I hear a door open and shut in the distance. There’s a slight squeaking sound, like it’s a metal door, maybe. And voices. Two men’s voices coming from the other side of the alley.”
“Can you hear what they’re saying?”
Poppy did as Isobel had suggested and really tried to focus on the details. With her eyes still closed, she could see herself crouched down by that dumpster, listening to the conversation that—in a split second—had completely altered her life.
“One is complaining about how heavy the man he’s carrying is. I don’t see what they’re doing yet, but the man says, ‘He’s heavier than he looks’.” Then the other man, the one I think is in charge, tells him to be quiet. He’s worried someone will hear them.”
“Does the first man lower his voice?”
“No.” Poppy shook her head again. “He calls the other man a dumbass and says there isn’t anyone else around to hear him.”
“And what are you doing at this point?”
“Just listening. I don’t want them seeing me, because I’m embarrassed about having almost fallen and the fact that I can’t get to my phone. But I’m curious, so I peek around the edge of the dumpster. That’s when I see them.”
“Tell me what they’re doing.”
“They’re carrying the body of a third person.”
“Is that person dead?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do,” Isobel challenged. “Remember, Poppy… The details are there. You just have to dig deep to find them. Take yourself back to that exact moment and really picture what you’re seeing.”
I thought that’s what I’ve been doing.
Making an effort not to get frustrated, Poppy searched through her memories and pictured the man in question. She remembered his still, limp form. The paleness in the skin she could see. And just now, Poppy recalled seeing a flash of his face—and the half-opened eyes staring out into nothing.
“He’s dead.” She was certain of that now. “I can’t tell for sure because he’s being carried, but I think he’s a little shorter than normal. And pudgy.” The man definitely had a belly on him.
“That’s great. See?” Isobel sounded excited. “That’s brand-new information. Keep going.”