CHAPTER 3:

Zaria’s Pens

“Hello?” An older woman’s voice can be heard on the line now. “..Hi.”  “My name is Samara Richardson. I’m the sister of the victim. She worked for Elle Summer as her accountant.” Zaria’s eyes lit up. This woman's voice spoke calmly but with a hurting and painful undertone. Like she was trying to keep herself from breaking down. Zaria had adjusted her position on the curb. The rocks against her itched but she was too lazy to get up. 

“I know you don’t know her, but she was amazing.” Zaria had heard that line before. She has a great memory. Except when it comes to certain things. “She was really nice and…she died too young. The police said you could help? They say they would help me but that it would take a while because of the serial killer that’s going around…murdering people.” 

Oh yes. The serial killer going around murdering people. On the other side of the city, a murderer is going around killing people. Zaria had read about it. Some guy, running around strangling people. Zaria always thought she had a short temper but this guy was a whole nother deal. Zaria never really paid attention to that case since it was so far from Philly. His targets were always around Erie. Not at all close to Philadelphia. But sometimes his targets would be in Philadelphia, and other parts of Pennsylvania. Which is why everyone in Pennsylvania was looking for the guy. Or at least trying to help. “The police said you could help? Leon said you could help.” She pleaded with Zaria, practically begging her to take the case. “Please, my family deserves to know what happened. We deserve closure.” Something about hearing Samara plead changed Zaria’s mind; a little bit. Everyone did deserve closure, that she did believe. But for her to do it? To give the family what they want? What if she fails? What if the culprit gets away? She can’t fail. She never fails. Not again.

“I’m not guaranteed to find out what happened.” Zaria finally spoke, “But I will try my hardest.” Plus, she needed the money. She was one dollar away from not paying her rent. Plus ultimately, she would never be able to live with herself if she turned down someone's request. Especially at this severity. Suddenly, she saw the Chief and D.A. Alexander walking out. “I’ll call you back,” Samera quickly thanked her before hanging up. The Chief noticed her sitting on the sidewalk and practically dragged the D.A. over to her. Zaria’s smile was always wide but this time it was wider. “I’ve changed my mind. I’d be delighted to help.” Zaria’s smirk said otherwise but she really was delighted. “How much are you willing to pay?” The Chief chuckled to himself and the D.A. rolled his eyes. “Double your salary here, deal?” D.A. Alexander stated. As he did, Zaria stood up, hands on her hips and grinned. “Deal! But don’t expect a miracle. Well then let's go.” “Go; Where?” “To see the victim, obviously. You think I can just think of what happened based on nothing?” The Chief led her to his squad car and D.A. Alexander followed. He wasn’t the biggest fan of getting civilians involved in law enforcement. Maybe because he thought he could do everything by himself. Or maybe he was afraid that a common newspaper girl could figure out a whole murder. The Chief was starting to like Zaria, it reminded him of his daughter, he thought. 

Arriving at the familiar pink white house, Zaria felt a bit excited. She’s never been involved in a case before, let alone a murder led one. She’s still on the fact that a murder happened just after she left. She doesn’t know for sure that it was after, but she has a pretty good hunch that it did. Otherwise, everyone would have been on edge trying to hide it from a journalist. Or maybe no one knew. That’s a possibility. But not very likely.

“Don’t act stupid. This has to go professionally.” D.A. Alexander’s voice stiff and serious to Zaria. “Well technically, I’m not law enfor—” “Don’t start being smart now. Maybe try when it's time to actually solve the case.” Zaria had no idea why the D.A. hated already. His voice was mean and aggressive, like she killed his family or something. She would never, but she does know how. “Me solving the case started when you guys came to my job.” Zaria blew past D.A. Alexander, and happily skipped to the front door. “Good afternoon Clay.” A smile wide on her face. Clay did not feel the same. He did not feel like it was a good afternoon the moment Zaria pulled up. “What are you doing here again?” His voice was unamused and annoyed. That tone was usually expected when dealing with a hot chocolate charged woman in her early 20s. “Don’t worry I’m not alone this time, anyways—we need to go inside.” Zaria pointed to the door. Clay finally noticed Chief and D.A. Alexander behind her and reluctantly moved. 

Elle was there. Sitting and waiting patiently in her gown. She looked surprised to see Zaria again. “What’s she doing here again?” Elle asked, clearly unamused that Zaria was present. “She’s here to help.” The D.A. reluctantly admitted. “What are you?” Elle is now talking to Zaria. Zaria was now pacing around her living room. “Some undercover cop? FBI? CIA?” “Nope!” Zaria doesn’t go deeper into the question. She just bypasses Elle and walks around. She wasn’t able to do that when she was here before. 

“Is she…okay?” Elle said, actually concerned. The Chief shrugged and the D.A. rolled his eyes. They started to follow Zaria around. Despite telling Zaria where the body was, Zaria wasn’t going there. She was checking every room, every bathroom, everywhere but where she was supposed to look. Talking with everyone about what seemed like random questions. “How are you? What’s your favorite drink? How old are you? Do you like bowling?” Not knowing this was one of Zaria’s tactics she learned off Youtube, the D.A. got tired of her. “Listen!” The D.A. stopped and folded his arms in frustration. “You’re supposed to be here to help! Don't wander around looking at everything you want.” Zaria rolled her eyes, huffed and puffed, and dragged herself to the kitchen. “The victim, Sandra Richardson, is in the kitchen.” She repeated to herself as she walked to the kitchen. 

Zaria had watched a lot of fake stories about fake crimes so she wasn’t squeamish. The kitchen was big, huge, gigantic, Zaria thought. She analyzed everything but the elephant in the room. What seemed like hundreds of plates, so many pots and pans, spatulas and forks; knives and cutting boards. Other officers and people around the kitchen. And the woman in the purple dress, bleeding from her mouth. Dead. On the floor. Inches away from the fridge. A napkin and a water bottle right next to her. The water bottle was wet, even though it wasn’t open as it seemed. “Dang.” Is all Zaria had to say before circling around Sandra’s body. Her eyes were wide open and so was her mouth. The red stuff covering her mouth and going down her neck. “What do you guys think? How do you guys think she died?” Zaria asked the Chief. “Well we’re not really sure. Maybe some stuck something sharp in her throat? Or maybe it was an accident. We’re waiting on forensics.” He replied. Zaria tilted her head in confusion. “Can I touch the stuff?” She insisted excitedly, feeling like she was a real detective. Before D.A. Alexander refused, one of the officers on duty handed her some rubber gloves. “Thanks!”

After putting on her gloves, instead of inspecting Sandra first—she picked up the water bottle. “Mh…” She stood up and noticed that the napkin holder was right next to the fridge. “Mh…” Elle must have been getting tired of Zaria’s ‘Mh’s because she then spoke out. “What? What’s wrong?” Sounding irritated. She probably was uneasy since a murder took place at her house. ‘I guess I would be uneasy too if someone died at my house.’ Zaria thought. As Zaria got closer to Sandra’s face, she noticed something. One, her lips were a bluish color. And you could visibly see her neck muscles. Usually that happens when someone is struggling to breathe. Two, nothing sharp was in Sandra’s throat. Nothing that would make her bleed. Maybe she threw up blood? But that’s the thing. The blood was…weird. Zaria had gotten hurt before and bleeded but this? Looked like a liquid version of blood. It wasn’t thick like it was supposed to be. It didn’t even smell like blood, just like lots of chemicals. Almost a medicinal smell. She lightly picked up Sandra’s head and felt a dent. When she picked her hand up, real blood was on her gloves. Zaria stood up and smiled. ‘“It’s too red. Too bright. Blood clots, it doesn’t stay this runny... I’ve bled before. This? This is marker blood. Movie blood. Halloween party blood.’ She thought. “Fingerprints?” She asked, and the Chief shook his head no. “Okay, I’m ready to share with the class.” 

Zaria stood on one side of Sandra’s body while Elle, D.A. Alexander, and the Chief stood on the other side. They probably were on edge since Zaria was smiling. She wasn’t smiling because a young woman died, she was smiling because she had figured something out. 

“This water bottle is next to her, it's wet and cold but closed. So that means she got it from the fridge. I don’t know how that comes into play yet but I know it does.” Zaria was now pacing again. She had a habit of doing that. “There’s blood and a dent on the back of her head. Meaning she probably hit her head and fell. Or someone hit her with something heavy. But that would bring a bigger picture considering we don’t have the object she was allegedly hit with. So I don’t think she was hit, the debt felt like something sharp, probably this corner she’s right next to. Considering there is a bit of dried blood here. I don’t think she died from the blood in her mouth either. But I also don’t think she died from hitting her head. Her lips are blue and her neck shows that she might have been struggling to breathe. But we won’t know anything until forensics tells us how she died.” Zaria then got on one knee and the group followed her to the ground. “See?” Zaria points to the blood on Sandra’s body. “This doesn’t seem like blood. It's liquidy, like someone mixed water with red food dye. But it's thick enough that it's sticking to her throat and mouth. I don’t know, maybe cranberry syrup or red pen ink. Or maybe I don’t know what blood looks like. But it definitely doesn’t feel like the blood on the back of her head. And if she threw it up, it would have a different texture. But we need forensics to answer if it's really blood or not.” 

Neither the Chief nor the D.A. knew whether to be amazed by how much information Zaria got or scared since she was here not too long ago. Elle started to get terrified of how good Zaria’s deductive reasoning skills are. “And no, I have never killed anyone. I just watch a lot of crime shows.” Zaria jokes, then she gets back on task. “Do you like cranberry juice? Syrup? Anything?” Zaria asked, her randomness coming back into play. “Actually I’m allergic, so there’s nothing in this place that has cranberries in it. Not even my employees bring it.” Zaria hummed for a second before bringing her hand to her chin. 

“Also, this is just a hunch but if she died from loss of breath then her eyes are likely to stay open. Just like if she instantly died from blunt force trauma then her eyes would stay open. But the dent on her head doesn’t feel deep enough to cause her to instantly die from that, maybe just go unconscious. So why are her eyes open? But this is just a theory, we won’t know anything until forensics shows up.” 

“Did you know,” Zaria said, now sitting crisscrossed next to Sandra’s body because her legs got tired, “that when you die, your muscles relax—including the ones that keep your eyes closed? So unless you go out mid-blink like some dramatic soap opera star, they usually stay open. Creepy, right?” Elle shifted uncomfortably, her arms crossed tight. “Okay, seriously—can someone remind me why she’s here again?” Even the Chief who had seen actual lunatics and psychopaths was getting a little nervous. A smiling Zaria was then kicked out of the kitchen and kept away from Sandra’s body for now.

A few minutes later, the Chief and D.A. Alexander came out of the kitchen; and Elle followed after. Zaria was now slouching on a wall with a juice box that one of the guards gave her. They were actually starting to warm up to her, but not Clay. Zaria finally notices them and excitedly jumps up towards them. “Find out anything I didn’t already?” Her cocky-ness shining through. Her hands were on her hips. “You’re full of yourself, you know that?” D.A. Alexander declared, and Zaria nodded in agreement. “So what do you need now? Do you know who killed Sandra?” Elle said, clearly worried but not for Sandra. But for her reputation. “Well I guess I should find out who killed her if someone even did. I guess forensics can wait–” “Wait what?” The Chief interrupted Zaria. Zaria hated getting interrupted. 

“What do you mean ‘if someone even did’?” Elle questioned what the Chief was thinking. “Just considering all possibilities; I mean, for all we know she could have slipped and hit her head. Or maybe she had medical issues and that's why there’s “blood” on her.” Zaria clarified, now stretching because she had been up all day. Usually she would be at home contemplating if she should order take out or eat the huge cockroach in the corner of her room. She refused to get anywhere near that corner considering she’s terrified of bugs. “So this was an accident?” D.A. Alexander said, he sounded relieved even though that’s not what Zaria meant at all. “No? I’m just considering it might be for legal reasons, you have to consider all possibilities. But me? I think someone intervened. Something had to have happened otherwise why would she be like that? Eyes and mouth open? Suspicious blood coming from her mouth? It doesn't connect.” The D.A. looked more calm and lightly pulled the Chief closer. “If this was all an accident, I want to know by tomorrow. This will go way better with the press and civilians.” He said, and the Chief reluctantly nodded. ‘All they care about is this being an accident. They don’t care that some woman could have been murdered…’ Zaria thought; that made her even more annoyed with the D.A.