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I feel both sets of curious eyes on me, and my heart rate picks up a little. I look between them both.
“I ended the relationship during the trip.” Trying to remain confident, I take a deep breath. Deciding to elaborate further. “I ended the relationship before my flight to New York. Things haven’t been good for a while. With my dad passing, staying somewhere where I was unhappy didn’t feel right.” My voice begins to crack, and the eyes avert from me.
“Has your father ever discussed his business here within the city?” Detective Strode asks.
His tone is much kinder. Almost reminding me of a warm fatherly figure, but I shake my head.
“No, I just knew he owned and ran some businesses here. There was never an indication when we saw each other or spoke that there were any issues. He didn’t really like talking about work much, but when we saw each other, he was more interested in how I was and how school or work was going.”
I notice how Detective Strode nods and gently smiles.
“And how often was that?” He asks as he jots down some notes on a notepad.
I feel myself deflate, trying to focus on the last time we spoke, but the sadness of not seeing him as often as I’d like feels like it’s eating me from the insides. Placing my elbows on the table, my head falls into my hands, staring down at the table Infront of me. My body begins to shake.
A thick knot of guilt forms in my throat and I can feel my mind beginning to shut down, the pressure of the situation becoming too much to handle.
“Can I get you some water?” Detective Strode leans in and asks calmly.
“Yes, please.” Not moving, I weakly answer.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to gather my thoughts and maintain my composure, but it’s so fucking hard.
Once the cup of water is placed in front of me, I take a sip, watching as my hand shakes.
The interview carries on into the early evening. The room has no clock, but I can see it’s begun to get dark outside. Both detectives continue to ask questions, but after some time, I feel flat. I can’t offer them anything about my dad’s murder, which breaks my heart. I’m here, but I’m fucking useless to them, and I want to help, but there’s nothing that has ever stood out about him or his lifestyle which could indicate why anyone would want to hurt him.
Sliding my coat back on, Detective Grey abruptly leaves the room. He said very little during the interview, which made me uncomfortable. Detective Strode asked most of the questions, but I could always feel those forest-green eyes on me. Stealing a few glances here and there, his expression never changed. No smile, no nod of the head. It was as though he was a fucking robot. But the more he stared, the more I wanted to ignore him.
Detective Strode walks me out, passing Detective Grey on the way. He doesn’t look up, remaining focused on the notebook in front of him. His dark, wavy hair obscuring his face slightly. But that doesn’t mean as I pass, I don’t feel his white-hot gaze on me as I walk away. I roll my eyes as the entrance nears; the sulky persona doesn’t work for me, and it never has. I just hope I don’t have to deal with him anytime soon. He makes me feel guilty, even though I’ve done nothing wrong. I don’t like being silently accused. That chapter on dealing with difficult men is definitely over for me.
Stepping out into the cold winter night, I see my breath instantly. Pulling my coat tight around my body, I turn back to Detective Strode as he speaks.
“Are you sure I can’t get you a ride home?”
I shake my head, looking up at him as I take a few steps down the street.
“I think the fresh air will do me good. No offense, it’s fucking roasting in there.”
His hearty laugh takes me by surprise, handing me a card.
“Here, if you run into any issues or remember something, anything. Just give me a call, ok?”
I nod, “Thank you.”
Chapter Six
Summer?
Feeling the tense muscles in my body begin to loosen with each step, I feel an odd surge of adrenaline rush through my body but, at the same time, an unbelievable exhaustion that I’ve never felt before. Putting it down to the intense day, I continue down the street. After a few moments, I begin to look at my surroundings. Quickly realizing I’m lost, I look around the street, hoping to see something familiar from earlier, but it’s no use.
As the dark evening has descended, the entire street looks completely different. Letting out a frustrated sigh, I pull my phone from my purse, admitting defeat and searching for an Uber. As the app opens, I feel a presence approaching, but before I can turn, I feel myself being shoved into the adjacent alleyway. Losing my footing I hit the concrete floor with a thud. Blinking a couple times, a large silhouette stands in the entrance of the alleyway. Spotting the knife in their hands, I beg.
“Please just take it.” I throw my purse onto the floor in front of them. “Just take it.”
My pleading words appear amusing to the figure as they chuckle. I squint a couple of times as they lift their balaclava off, revealing a familiar tattooed face from the McDonalds last night. Moving from my side, I sit on my ass, trying to ignore the pain and blinding fear.
The figure takes a couple of steps forward, and squatting down, he reveals a crooked smirk. His facial tattoos make him appear more than unsettling. I study his face, but he seems to be taking his time with his mugging.
