Detective Dan Withers sat in the sweltering Arizona sun, outside of the home, of what he hoped was the innocent spouse of the remains found in a shallow grave, no more than half an hour from where he sat in this Prescott, AZ neighborhood. He sat watching his fellow detectives and various police agency busy bees, comb over the Crames residence, asking questions, rifling through the grieving husband's sss personal life.

He sat eating his third peanut butter and jelly sandwich that day. He didn't know exactly when this love affair with the sandwich came about, he did know he was addicted to them, he also knew that they were not helping his now portly figure. Oh well, it could be worse, he could still be addicted to the bottle of whiskey. That earned him his divorce from wife number two, for none other than his whiskey habit.

It was not that he was a violent or abusive drunk, no, he tended to disappear on benders, and have to get picked up, or bailed out, of odd scenarios. Not too many women view that as their prince charming. Rolling up the window, he slowly made his way to the home. Some of the other detectives were milling about the yard and inside, he spotted Alvarez. Detective, smoking hot ass fuck Alvarez. She was already with the husband, interviewing him. Slowly strolling up, making eye contact with Alvarez, nodding at, Deonte Cramer. Nothing at all seemed odd about Deonte Cramer. He stood about six feet, unremarkably muscular, short hair, and black. That part was odd. Prescott AZ, was for lack of a better term, extremely white. If anything was odd, it was that.

Forty-five days ago, if you go by the media reports, Jennifer or Jenny Cramer disappeared from the home I stood in now. Deonte Cramer has been descended upon by any camera-toting human in the area. We've even had some folks from Glendale, AZ, and CNN come to speak to Deonte. Jenny Cramer was a local sweetheart, practically the cities daughter. Her family owned several of the grocery stores throughout Prescott. When I say a few, I mean all of them. Deonte, for the most part, has appeared distraught, a model husband, and father.

Yes, Lydia Cramer. Toddler, and when they say, "good looking kid," they mean it for Lydia. Part of the reason this story has gained so much traction is this child. Everyone wanted to know, who would take this child's mother. Approaching Deonte, "hello I know how tough today must be." Deonte nods at me, I found that response odd. The nod given was the type of nod you might give a stranger, as you pass each other in a shop. Who am I to judge though, the man is just learning, his wife's dead remains have been found.

"I don't know why this happened to her, who would do this, I need to be here for Lydia, we need yo move on," I am again, starting to have a strange feeling about our husband. "Do you know if she had any people upset with her?"  Im asking this rhetorical question, in this line of work, the spouse never knows anything. " No," is the expected reply. I ask all my usual detective questions. Im left with absolutely zero new information. Jenny was found badly beaten, bound, and dumped, in of all places, behind one of her father's stores. The volunteers, which included, most anyone with a TV, had combed the likely areas meticulously.

The gruesome discovery was actually made by one of the store's employees. Randy Edgehorn, certainly made a meal out of being the one to discover Jenny. There wasn't a station not getting the beaming recount of Randy's fateful trip out behind the store. The public was both devastated and in a state of closure. It's up to me now, to put a reason for this tragedy to have occurred. My initial assessment was extra marital affair gone wrong. The location of the body, and the more time I spent with Deonte, had me rethinking that. Something was off about him.

Without prompting, Deonte days, "you know, people didn't like, Jenny was with a black guy." Im a little taken back by this. "You think this is somehow racially motivated?" Im certainly not believing this. A racist would have left a warning of some sort. I just nodded. "I don't know what happened to her, I'm just saying." Again, I'm not sure if Deonte is aware of the way he sounds, but my spider-sense was tweaked all the way up now. Something was certainly not right.

Thanking Deonte for his hospitality and assuring him that all these people would be out of his home shortly, I motion to Alvarez to follow me. Standing by my cruiser, I mention to my beautiful co-worker, "I don't like this guy, something is off, did you catch the way he answered some of my questions?" Alvarez just smirked at me with that perfect face, "Be careful Dan, nobody suspects this guy." "I know, I think we should talk to the family again." Alvarez rolls her eyes me and says, "whatever Sherlock, it's your case., "

Jessup Folgers and Carolyn Folgers were about as royal as it got here in Prescott. Jessup a familiar face at golf clubs, I couldn't afford, Carolyn a mom, and friend to just about everyone here. We entered their massive home, we're greeted by a caretaker and we're ushered into one of what I assume was many waiting areas. Finally, Jenny's parents arrived, arriving as if coming from a gala, in the middle of the day. They were truly well to do a couple. "Good afternoon, I begin the unpleasantries." "You must be the lead detective," Jessup practically sneers. "I am, " replying with as much humility as I could muster. Rich people like Jessup, hate when we commoners act all high and mighty, in a strange bit of irony. "Im looking to find who did this sir, I have to ask if you suspect Jenny had any enemies?" "That's preposterous Carolyn blurted." Hiding my annoyance, "I am sorry, I'm only trying to give you both some peace."  This seems to calm them.
I spoke to Deonte, he seems to think this could be racially motivated. Do you think there is any merit to this? Jessup slams his fist on the  table, "that psycho would!" I found his word choice to be interesting.

Carolyn quells her husband's outburst as only a wife of many moons can do. "I'm not sure where he would get that, maybe he has had some experiences Jenny was not aware of, she tells us everything." My usual questions go on for some time. Again, I'm getting nowhere fast. In the back of my mind, I'm thinking of Jessup, I want to get that guy alone. Gesturing to Alvarez, I gave the signal we used over many an interview. "Carolyn, id like to ask you some questions alone, is there someplace we can talk?" Alvarez and Carolyn slowly leave the room, leaving Jessup and I alone.

I see a rather ornate liquor cabinet. "These are some finer spirits you keep Jessup," I remark, hoping to curry favor. "Thank you, detective, are you a drinking man? " I mention my demons with alcohol, it quickly ends that conversation with most drinkers. I turn at the moment, "Jessup, what do you think of your son in law?" I can tell ive caught him off guard with this. He glares at me a little, understanding the trap that was laid, "Do you suspect Deonte of this?" He asks in an almost cool manner that frankly shocks me. I stammer over my reply, "I dont know what to think, we dont have many leads, " I get just a deadpan look in reply, "well, I hope you catch whoever did this, for Carolyn's sake." Either this family is full of robots, or they simply dont know how to respond with emotion. Gathering up Alvarez, we thank the family and walk away empty-handed again.

Im out investigating an unrelated case, sitting outside a Starbucks, eating my third peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Its been a week or two on the Cramer case, no new leads, and really no progress. My phone rings, "This is Dan," I answer. Its Alvarez, "you won't believe this," she sounds both frantic and excited, "we have a suspect and a confession in the Cramer case!" I about spit up my sandwich. Cranking my engine, I bullet to the station. I can't believe this turn of events. Entering the station, I head straight to our interrogation room, Alvarez is already waiting for me. "Who is it," I asked, "Jimmy Collins," she says with a smile. I almost can't believe my ears, my immediate response shows "Jimmy Collins!" He just got home from prison and his longterm girlfriend is pregnant; he has been pretty clean since he got out, he even got a job at the grocery store she was found behind.

My interview with Jimmy yielded a typical result. He claimed it was a robbery gone bad, he panicked,  bound her, and hid the body behind the store. I had to admit, everything fit. It just fits perfectly. I couldn't argue it. Jimmy had a violent record and here he was confessing in hopes for a lighter sentence. Something just didn't seem right about it. Why would a guy destroy his life robbing someone he essentially worked for? The news media are up the narrative and Jimmy's life was plastered on screens across the nation.

A few days after a fairly short trial and the sentencing of Jimmy. I decided to pay Jimmy's girlfriend a visit. Given his confession, Jimmy was given a lighter sentence and would likely do about four years with good behavior factored in. It didn't sit right with me that his girlfriend was not present through any of the trial. Knocking on the door to their small apartment, she answers, takes a look at me, and slams the door. "I ain't talking to no more police!" She shouts out at me. I expect this, "I dont believe Jimmy did it," I yell back. Slowly the door creeps back open.

I can't believe my ears. The information Jimmy's girlfriend provides, only confirms my doubt. She tells me of frequent meetings he had late at night and his assurance that she and her baby would be taken care of, that he was doing something for the family, and that he was making a sacrifice. I am back on fire about this case. Mainly because the info is damming, and the real killer could still be out there. Something the girlfriend told me about Jimmy's late-nights at the store with who he called the big boss, made me want to talk to Jessup again. I arranged the meeting and flew to Jenny's parents' home.

To my surprise, upon the usual wait, both Deonte and Jessup greet me. I go over my discoveries with both the men. I'm shocked again by the response, rather, the lack thereof. Here, i just told a husband and a father, a potentially innocent man is in jail, and a brutal killer is on the loose, in a very cold, and unfeeling manner, both the men, with dead eyes, expressed the same sentiment. This was the end of the issue, and it was best if everyone, just moved on.
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