Big Sur

Sabrina stood outside of her beach house on the patio facing the ocean, music from her cd player Elephant's Memory was heard.The winds blew her hair back beyond her neck line, flapping in the wind her collar, blood stained and her white satin dress drenched in blood.She walked to the edge of the patio railing and looked below, staring at a forty foot drop to the rocks. The waves and surf could be seen rushing in from the moon light, shining from above and capturing the soft white peeks of the surf.The swells crashed against the rocks and at a distance a ship passed with twinkling lights.The sound heard below was soothing to her mind.She turned around and face the sliding glass doors to the living room.

Her blue-eyes were glistening from the security lamps on each corner high above the deck of her patio. Her blonde-hair was soaked with bright red-blood. She shimmered with awe and fear. Gingerly, she pulled bits and pieces of broken glass from her hair. She was badly cut and losing allot of blood. Incoherent and overstuffed with love and hate she stammered as she fell to the floor of the patio. Her voice sounded asthmatic, wheezing and gurgling with the sound of internal bleeding.

Inside the beach house her husband lay dead on the floor of the living room with his throat slashed. The splattered blood was all over the flowery wall paper and above the fire place stood a portrait, a woman ,effeminate and more beautiful than the eyes could imagine. It was a portrait of Sabrina painted shortly after her marriage to a very rich man. Stephen Foxx was a collector of valuable stones and gems. laid on the floor next to him his box of valuable ruby's and gems sprawled everywhere in the room.

Lieutenant Scott Polanski from the California Bureau of Investigations was first on the scene and followed by local police afterwards. He drove his unmarked car up the winding driveway to the two story house. Upon arriving, he notices the front door opened wide. The lights in the house were on and the outside security lamps burned bright. Scott had drawn his .40-caliber Beretta, from his shoulder holster and approached the hallway leading to the living room. The burglar alarm was heard wailing and Scott called on the radio to send back up and also to disarm the security unit. He than hollered in the house and slowly moved towards the living room.

"Hello, is anybody here?" he yelled.

Slowly, he proceeded to walk through the hall and as he turned left facing the living room he notice the blood splattered on the walls. He stood horrified in shock, his heart beat fast and momentarily lost his senses only for a little bit and then carefully walked in the living room. He glance at Stephen laid in a pool of blood. He reached over and gently place two fingers on his jugular to check for a pulse, there was none. He looked at the broken glass, on the patio Sabrina laid helplessly bleeding. He called on the radio and ordered an ambulance and the coroner.

From a distance he could hear the police starting to arrive with their sirens as they approached the beach house. Scott walk towards Sabrina and carefully viewed in every direction. He was scared and had every right to be. His finger lay pressed against his trigger of the gun, he was ready to shoot at any instance he was wrongfully approached. He bent over and checked Sabrina for a pulse, barely a pulse she was alive. He again called on the radio."This is lieutenant Scott. I need an ambulance at 125 West Shore Drive quickly. I have a woman down and barely alive, she has lost allot of blood." "10-4 Lieutenant, the ambulance should arrive momentarily. They have already been dispatched."