"Funny how you came back here looking for something you won't get, detective." Joshua stood on the steps of the front porch, as quiet as a mouse. Yet, as if practising magic, Mrs. Margaret Walters was able to detect his presence. He squinted up at the sun, which heat was capable of turning the tar on the road to muddles. Joshua wasn't wearing his normal outfit of a leather jacket over a white shirt and a slacked tie. He chose to go entirely casual; a grey Under Armour T-shirt with black jeans and white Adidas sneakers. Part of the reason being the hell of a weather they were having, literally. The other reason was because he didn't go as a detective, but as plain ol' Joshua Mulligan. An ordinary inhabitant of Chesterfield Springs. "Well, aren't you going to come in?" She asked. "Or do you prefer to bake out there like freshly marinated meat?" With that, she rose from the white bench on her porch and grabbed her cane. She was indoors in a flash. With Joshua at
Joshua fiddled with the keys for a moment, then slid the appropriate one into the keyhole. After hearing a familiar lock sound, he twisted the knob and opened the door. The apartment was completely different from what he remembered walking into two months ago, although this was the first time he'd seen it in the light of day. The floors had been waxed, walls had been repainted. The furniture had been completely removed, leaving the center of the apartment totally bare. The wall in front of the space that was occupied by a couch had an empty metal suspender, where the TV is supposed to hang from. The kitchen had empty racks, clean cabinets, a shiny sink, and a cleared out fridge. It was an understatement to say that the room had been completely abandoned. Joshua didn't find it at all surprising that he'd find the apartment empty and uninhabited. It might've sounded harsh, but no one would hurriedly occupy a space where a dead man was found. Especially conside
Shawn Zachary was much different than Eleanor had described him. Her description came from many years back when they were still in high school, though, so the fluctuations were permitted to exist. His once reddish-brown hair had a lot of grey in them too, and had already started thinning out. His thick, black eyebrows moved above his sharp, intelligent eyes, which seemed to scan everything that crossed his view. His lips were nearly covered by the bushy moustache that stretched across his upper lip to the side of his mouth. His chubby cheeks multiplied in size whenever he smiled, which was every time. On his hands were rings of immense quality and expense. With his brown Armani suit piece and designer shoes, he looked way too elaborate for the Cyclone Bar. But that was where he insisted they meet. And Joshua had no choice but to agree. Joshua felt completely underdressed sitting next to him at the counter. He had a simple plain blue shirt tucked into light brown trousers.
Night time in Chesterfield Springs was probably the most quiet in the entire country. You could hear the humming of your neighbour's refrigerator from across the street. Or the snoring of your landlord from the upper floor of the apartment building. It was so quiet that you could simply go deaf from the deafening silence. Regardless, it was just the way Joshua wanted it to be. The park was deserted, of course. No one brings kids or walks dogs close to midnight. The strong gust of wind blowing around moved the rusted parts of the metallic rides and swing sets, creating an eerie melody that was sure enough to spook anyone. Joshua was sure the inhabitants at the other end of the town could hear the swing sets and see-saw squeaking loudly. Left to him, the park would've been the last place he would've picked. But, he didn't have much of a choice. It wasn't New York that had multiple deserted buildings littered all over the place. Where he could have picked one and planned t
"I always knew that woman was bad news. The creep kept giving me bad energy." "Me too. But talking to John at that moment in time seemed futile. He was always so madly in love with her." "I don't think I want to remind you where that got him." "Sadly. It's a shame." "Indeed." Margaret Walters' house was the place for the occasion again. This time, with less strangers and more family. The Walters of all ages gathered in the living room, eating cranberry cupcakes and drinking orange juice from mugs on saucers. The entire family in one spot was as rare as the perfect alignment of all the planets in the solar system. Of course, none of them were kids anymore; everyone had a life of their own. Bills to pay, some had extra mouths to feed. But moments like these were ones to cherish. Even when the reason for such a gathering wasn't exactly merry. Fortunately, this one had a celebratory tune to it. So no one could afford to miss it. "Mmm . . . " M
"You're late. But I'm not surprised." Joshua Mulligan smirked as he took the rubber gloves offered to him and put them on. "It wasn't my fault this time, Tracy. You wouldn't believe the traffic I had to scale through." "Well, you made it out alive. Right?" Tracy Morgan's sarcastic tone was really hard to miss. And it made Joshua grin all the more. "So, what's the gig?" He asked casually. Tracy glared at her partner for a couple of seconds, then she shook her head slightly and proceeded into the apartment. Joshua followed obediently, then paused at the doorway. It was absolute chaos in room 367. Joshua would've liked to believe that the apartment he stood in once looked like any other apartment he'd been into: a small, tidy space with a few artistic ornaments to spice up the appearance, perhaps a nice painting on the wall, a cute little kitchen probably facing the living room . . . and all that stuff. Or maybe that was just the standard look of a typical apartment
The news of Jonathan Walters' murder spread round Chesterfield Springs faster than wildfire in autumn. Being the small town that it was, nothing as grave as a murder could be kept as a secret for long without someone finding out about it somehow. And when they did, they made sure everyone else found out as well. It was soon the number one item in the local news channel, found it's way into the front pages of the newspapers, and was being broadcasted by radio stations. Before noon, a day after the incident, everyone in Chesterfield Springs knew about Jonathan Walters' sudden passing. Joshua turned off his car radio after hearing the name 'Johnathan Walters' for the 5th time in the past hour. He shook his head as he pulled up in the parking lot of the Chesterfield Springs police department. He had no idea how things were being run here, he only got transferred in a couple of weeks ago. The request for more 'seasoned' crime detectives had prompted his abrupt ar
Joshua stretched out, releasing a long, tiring yawn that depicted his exhaustion. He stepped out of the bathroom and made his way to his wardrobe, walking past the large mirror he'd hung on his wall, close to the entrance leading to the bedroom. Pausing suddenly, he backtracked and stood right in front of the reflective glass. He was almost taller than the mirror stood, with the top of his blonde head most definitely cropped out. He had a muscular kind of build that was difficult to hide in most outfits, even the large ones. He gazed at the bulging veins that roped around his forearms and into his biceps, flexing them a bit for the fun of it. His head bore solid jawlines, sparse facial hair on the chin and upper lip, a straight nose, and blue tired eyes. To any beholder, they'd say he was a perfect model. To him, he reckoned he didn't look too bad, but he wasn't a hottie either. Especially now that he knew he was stressed as hell. After putting on a sleeveles