Sleep was the last thing on my mind when I arrived home. I stood in my bedroom, staring at a crack on the windowsill as I thought over the night’s events. Jared had looked at the photo’s I took of the crime scene and ignored what I thought were clues left behind by both the killer and the victims. After he told me I was a complete waste of his time he said he would be in touch again. This time around it didn’t sound like he meant it.
I rubbed my eyes with the heel of my palms, tired and lost. Maybe it was the exhaustion talking, but I started doubting that what I’d see were clues to something more—maybe those books were a coincidence. Maybe that necklace had just fallen into the cushions, and it wasn’t some sign from Alice. My footsteps padded lightly to the living room where I flipped on the television and fell onto the couch.
“Another body was found today at Ellengale Community College,” Cindy said, “police have released that witnesses say it was the work of an Eidolon”—I never said that—“and the deaths of Rosa Navarro, Charlotte Hill, Alice Harper and Alexi Stafoff are connected. The suspect that was brought in earlier this week had been released for insufficient evidence. The manhunt is still on for—”
The rest of the report was a blur as my eyes drifted closed. I would snap awake to the sound of the dogs downstairs barking, only to find my eyelids falling again. My mind drifted somewhere between listening to the reporter and thinking I was in the studio with her.
For a moment I thought they might actually name Luke, but she quickly switched the topic to world news, blaming more tragedies on the Eidolon’s. A particularly loud yelp from below snapped me awake enough that I didn’t want to fall back into my almost-dreams. I began switching channels, hoping to find something that would help me turn off my brain for a while.
It didn’t work.
It never did.
“Liv,” came a voice, “hey Liv! Wake up!”
My eyes wearily opened, sleep still holding on. Luke’s figure loomed over me, his words muffled by the toothbrush that hung from his mouth. “Did you sleep on the couch all night?”
“I guess so,” I answered as I sat up. It had been a while since I had fallen asleep on a couch, and I had no idea what time I’d passed out. I grabbed my phone off the coffee table—11AM.
“I got called into work,” Luke said walking to the bathroom. I heard him rinse out his mouth before he stepped back into the living room. “So I’m heading in. What are you going to do today?”
“I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.” Like visit Dr. Wineman and find out why he lied to the police for us.
Luke eyed me, suspicious. He knew what people felt better than himself, but he nodded at me and shrugged. Living in denial as usual was easier than confrontation, I supposed.
“Well, I’ll talk to you later then.”
I said goodbye and he headed out the door. There was a brief moment I worried that Luke might slip-up and tell someone about what happened; he’d never been a good liar. The murders were most likely the best watercooler gossip every office in Ellengale had, and Luke’s place wouldn’t be the exception. At some point someone would ask, “Did you know any of them?” and maybe Luke wouldn’t be guarded enough to say no. He had a connection to every victim, maybe even Rosa. It’s not like he would remember if he bumped into her on the street or passed her at The Corner.
Then again, I was connected to all the victims, too. I sat on the couch, the commercials on TV becoming white noise as I thought everything over.
Why were they all dying? What did they have in common? Charlie, Alice and Rosa were all at the club the day before they died, but what about Heather? From what I remembered on the news last night she hadn’t been at The Corner before she died. She was at a college lecture on the Eidolon.
I sighed. Then there were the bullets found where she died. Had they been near her body and I just didn’t see them? That wasn’t like me, even if I was thoroughly distracted. But what exactly did the bullets have to do with anything? Nobody had been shot—there was no blood at any scene except for Alex’s. At least, I assumed that was the case.
I relaxed back onto the couch, holding my phone over my head as I scrolled through photo after photo. The stone necklace made me hesitate. Jared didn’t see any significance in it, but something about it stuck with me. Something in my gut told me that this meant something.
A shuffling outside the front door caught my attention, shifting my train of thought. Was somebody in Charlie’s place?
I walked on the balls of my feet to the front door and peeked through the peephole. There was a glimpse of a police uniform disappearing out of sight, muffled voices complaining about a superior. I waited a few minutes before poking my head out, ensuring they were gone.
Charlie’s door was still cornered off with yellow tape, but the red tape that sealed the door was cleanly cut. I arched my eyebrows. “That’s lucky.”
I had been too surprised and terrified to see the room clearly when I’d found Charlie. With Jared showing up, and the police, I hadn’t had the time to look around and find any connections between the two crime scenes. I gulped, hating that I had to think about Charlie’s apartment that way. A crime scene. A murder scene.
Gingerly, I twisted the cool knob and stepped under the yellow tape into the warm apartment.
The light hallway made me stumble before catching myself. Everything was different; brighter and…normal. Like the terrible events from the other night hadn’t actually happened, and I was going to turn the corner and find Charlie smiling at me. The photos that hung on the wall featuring her with family and friends made me feel sick; their smiles mocking and empty. My bare feet came to a halt, lips loose as I let out a sigh at what I’d noticed for the first time. A picture of Charlie with Alice and two other women; Rosa and Heather.
Charlie sat at the square bar with her arms around Alice and Heather, while Rosa stood behind the bar, smiling. I’d already known they must have met at some point, but Rosa’s name had never come out of Charlie’s mouth—and she told me everything even when I asked her to shop.
Now they were all dead. Did the police find this connection already? I tilted my head, observing the photograph. It was strange being in a dead woman’s apartment, I felt like I had to keep checking over my shoulder to see if she would pop up, but all I found was empty space. I took a photo of the picture on the wall and walked into Charlie’s living room.
I could still see the ghost of her bouncing around the room. I saw her on the sofa, watching television, saw her vacuuming and dancing around on the carpet. If I’d been asked me a week ago if I would care if Charlie moved out, my answer probably would have been no. But now, I realized how comfortingly normal she was; she didn’t care about the Eidolon’s, accepting them with ease just as she had me. I wondered if that was why Luke liked her.
The room where Charlie died looked exactly as before, plus two bullet holes in the far wall. They never came up in any news reports, and if they were never mentioned what else wasn’t? I had always assumed police kept most details about active cases quiet, but I thought two gunshots would be mentioned—surely the rest of the apartment complex had heard them.
Tucking a stray hair behind my ear I debated where to start looking. Nothing seemed out of place like it had at Alice’s crime scene. The stack of magazines still sat on the coffee table, the little figures of Charlie’s favourite characters still stared with black eyes at the room, and the decorative pillows were still disorganized on the couch.
I stepped over to the sofa and dug around in the cushions. Careful to remember where each one was supposed to be, I pulled up the pillows one by one until I came across a silver chain, hidden beneath them all. I pulled it out to reveal a dark green stone, exactly like at Alex’s home. My phone clicked as I took a photo, but this time I pocketed the stone. I’d thought they would go over everything here with a fine-toothed comb, but clearly some of them didn’t want to spend much energy on their job. I was surprised Young and Miller hadn’t found the necklaces—they, at least, seemed serious about this case.
I placed the pillows back where I had found them, smiling as I noticed all of them had teddy bears across their face.
I took one last look around the room, hoping something would jump out at me that could lead to the killer, but there was nothing. Nothing was out of place; it was as if Charlie just laid down and died.
Unable to take any more, I walked back to the photo of the four girls. The police were done here, so nobody would notice it missing right? Maybe they’d assume one of the officers bagged it as evidence.
Carefully, I lifted the frame from its hook and turned it over, taking the photo out. I set the frame back in its place and stared down at the picture, contemplating how they all knew each other. Studying the rest of the photo I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, there was nobody in the background watching them, nothing on the counter to suggest something suspicious, the only thing—my thoughts were interrupted by the floor creaking behind me.
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