"Okay, so that wasn't you." I concluded as Charlie joined me by the body, "In that case, we're either dealing with Bigfoot or The Invisible Man. And, since neither of those actually exist, we're screwed. Killers can be smart, but I have no clue how they pulled this off."
"Neither do I." Charlie admitted, still cupping his nuts in pain, "But that shouldn't matter right now. What do we do with the body?" With his free hand, he reached down to touch it.
"Wait!" I shouted, "Don't move it."
"Why not? We need to get rid of it."
"And you called me a moron? Look, if you move the body, you compromise the crime scene. Don't do anything with the body. We already left footprints in the snow. They're going to think that it's us. So, the best thing to do would be to wait a couple of days, until the snow melts, and then call the police. If we do anything else, we'll look like we did it."
On that note, we walked back to Charlie's house. Several minutes went by, before anyone spoke. I had too much on my mind at the moment, and I'm sure that Charlie did, too. We both knew what would happen if the police could tie the murder to us. If that snow didn't melt on time, and someone found the body, we would have no plausible deniability. Not only had we left tracks in the snow, but we had also left indentations where our bodies made contact in the fight. Also, some of our blood could have dripped off of us. And that would be hard to cover up.
Then, I spoke. Partially out of genuine regret, and partially to distract him from having the same thoughts that I had, I apologized to Charlie. It wasn't anything fancy; it was just a simple "I'm sorry about punching you in the face, and possibly ruining any chance that you'll have to ever conceive children."
"Nah, it's fine." He said, "I shouldn't have made that stupid Bambi joke. Let's call it even."
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