The people of Lakepoint are content with the notion that one of their own walks freely after murdering a fellow human being. If he hadn’t, what would it mean?
No matter the case, to understand the events that took place we must focus mutually on the facts that we have, because in fact there is probably a whole lot that we’ll never know.
I have preferred to remain anonymous, for reasons you should come to understand. And though my sources have been nothing of the second or third hand kind, my professional role in this case was extremely limited. The Lakepoint Police Department briefly brought in an external team to conduct medical analysis on Dale; it would certainly accredit me to mention if I were to have been a part of that team; but, even in the hypothetical vision wherein I was a part of that team, I myself never worked directly with Dale Casper — dead or alive. I chose to exclude myself from the narrative from here on out, to protect myself and the general flow of things.
The greatest, most important fact was that interest in the Dale Casper case had spread far beyond Lakepoint. All the quirkiest of the youths had been familiar with her: “The author from Chicago who wrote The Red Scent.”
Even Dominic had heard that she was visiting Lakepoint — his quiet, rural jurisdiction. It was a topic of conversation all around the small county. Nobody would have suspected that she would’ve needed security, or some sort of protection, or at least security cameras.
It’s still unclear exactly what Dale needed protection from, though it seems quite possible that the answer could’ve been: herself. If that’s the case, reader, then I urge you, in your analysis of the following text, to proceed with caution and heed your most stupefying demons.
It is the strange story of the death of Dale Casper, and more strange, the story of those who were afflicted by it.