Fishing for trouble(Darrell Case) He was fishing when he hooked her. At first, he thought he had snagged a piece of brush. It couldn’t be a fish. There was no fight, no breaking of the water, just a slow, steady drag on the line. He rowed closer, fearing he would snap the line. He enjoyed fishing the stripper pits. You could see 50 feet down with no problem. Until today. Coming closer, he peered over the edge of the boat full into her dead face. He jumped back, almost as if he were afraid, she would climb into the boat with him.
He let go of the drag on the reel. She sank back to the bottom, her eyes open, staring at him. He pulled back the bile in his throat. Hands shaking, he picked up his cellphone from the bottom of the boat. He almost dropped the phone.
He tried three times. How hard could it be to hit 911? Finally, he got it right. He breathed in deeply of the cool morning air.
911, what’s your emergency?”
“HI, I’m not sure I’m calling the right number.”
“What is the situation?”
“I found a woman. I mean a dead body of a woman.”
“What is your name and location?”
“Worley Brown. Everybody calls me Wor. I’m on Blueman’s lake.”
“Mr. Brown, if you will stay on the line, we have an officer coming to your location.”
“Thank you. It really shook me up. I mean, I thought I had hooked a bush.” He said, taking off his hat. The morning suddenly seemed warm. To warm for his jacket. Coming up Oman road he saw a plume of dust. Faintly, he heard the siren. “I can see the sheriff’s car coming on Oman road.”
“Anything else I can do for you, Mr. Brown?”
“No, no thank you.” Worley said. The officer stopped 10 feet behind Brown’s pickup. Speaking on his shoulder mic, the officer exited the vehicle. Brown waited for him at the back of his truck.
“Mr. Brown?”
“Yes, sir.” Wor shook the officer’s hand. “I found her right out there.” He raised his arm and pointed to the middle of the pit.” I left my fishing rod to mark the spot.”
“Did you touch anything, sir?” The officer said, shading his eyes with his right hand he looked in the direction Wor indicated.
“Nope, well, that is my hook. I don’t know where I hooked her.”
“I would appreciate it if you would wait by your truck, sir.”
“Would it be alright if I set on the inside?”
“That would be fine.”
Shortly other cars gathered until Wor counted fifteen.
For the next half hour, he watched them bring her up. Another hour and the officer came back to him. They set comfortably in the patrol car as he recounted his morning.
“I got up around 5 AM. I always do that when I’m going fishing. Got here about 6. Seems the fish bite more in the early morning. You know the early bird gets the worm.” He chuckled. “Sorry, I’m just a little nervous.”
“You’re doing fine. “The deputy paused writing. “Did you know her?”
“Yes, well no. That is I saw her picture on TV. I mean, all bloated like that. It looks like the missing woman they had on the news. Is it her?”
“Thank you for your cooperation. I have your cell number. If we have more questions, someone from the sheriff’s department will contact you.”
“Thank you.” Wor said.
Shakily, he drove home. In his driveway he set in the truck gathering his thoughts. “Wor old boy. You have got to start remembering where you put your victims.”
His wife waved from the front porch. He waved back. At lunch, he told her about finding the dead woman. Tomorrow, he would buy a new fishing rod. That afternoon he took a nap while his wife made a cake.
Did you find the identity of the killer? It’s hidden in the story.

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