Murder Case #201

CHAPTER 10- GRIEVING PERIOD

As my heavy eyelids droop, struggling to stay open, Detective Ace gracefully places a steaming cup of aromatic coffee in front of me, rescuing me just moments before my weary head collides with the unforgiving tabletop. The persistent tendrils of drowsiness have been ensnaring my senses throughout the day, but I summon every ounce of determination to wage a valiant battle against its relentless grip. The rich aroma of the coffee swirls around me, offering a temporary respite from the weariness that threatens to consume me.

"Thanks, Detective Ace," I murmur, my voice infused with a mixture of gratitude and fatigue.

Yesterday's somber occasion marked the solemn cremation ceremony for Kira, yet a conspicuous absence loomed over the gathering—Daxxe, nowhere to be seen. Contemplating the enigmatic void, two possibilities emerge, their nebulous tendrils teasing my thoughts. Either Daxxe and Kira had long severed their connection, drifting apart like distant stars, or perhaps the knowledge of the girl's tragic fate had remained shrouded, inaccessible to Daxxe's awareness.

"You can call me Ace," he suggests, his voice carrying a hint of friendly informality. "Drop the detective. Doesn't it feel cumbersome to say? Maybe you'd even like to include my last name as well."

In the face of this proposition, I find myself engulfed in silence, grappling with the realization that I have never uttered his name without the accompanying honorific. Maintaining a certain distance, an invisible barrier, seems necessary to me, not only with him but also with the others present, except for Lesia.

To shed the honorific would imply a camaraderie that, in truth, has yet to manifest between us. We are merely coexisting within the confines of this room, bound by the shared pursuit of justice for Kira. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Where's Lesia?" I inquired, my curiosity piqued by her absence.

"They've stepped out to attend to some matters," he replies, his concern evident in his voice. "Would you like to head home for now? You haven't had a proper rest yet."

"I'm alright," I assure him, determination lacing my words. "Although I won't be able to make it here tomorrow either due to my classes."

"Take good care of yourself," Ace advises, his voice laden with genuine concern. "You've managed to capture the attention of a female killer. If anything feels amiss or out of the ordinary, don't hesitate to reach out to me, alright? I've discreetly shared my phone number with Marie, stored safely in your phone."

As the weight of his words settles upon me, I appreciate the gravity of the situation. The perilous dance with danger has begun, and I find solace in the knowledge that Detective Ace is ready to lend a guiding hand, his unwavering support serving as a beacon in the encroaching shadows.

I feel lost, like a ship adrift in a vast sea. If only I were a detective, maybe I wouldn't be juggling like a circus performer, trying to balance my time between this confounding case and my role as a teacher.

"So, spill the beans, how did you and Kira cross paths?" I inquired, leaning in with genuine interest.

He shifts his gaze, avoiding eye contact. I can sense his discomfort, but darn it, my curiosity has a mind of its own when it comes to their enigmatic relationship.

"Well, if it's a touchy territory, no pressure to spill the beans," I chuckle, hoping my light-heartedness can soothe any nerves. He might think I'm a total oddball, or worse, insensitive.

"I messed up on a mission once and ended up in Xell Hospital in a hurry. And guess who's assigned to be my caretaker? Kira, of course. That's how the stars aligned for us. Love at first sight? Seems that way."

Love at first sight? Must be one heck of a rollercoaster. But truth be told, I can't quite grasp that feeling. I haven't even had a flutter of a crush. Maybe I am the poster child for abnormality.

"Ah," I mutter, taking a sip of my coffee as if trying to drown my thoughts in the bittersweet liquid.

"Got any more burning questions up your sleeve?"

"Huh? Oh, nah, I'm good."

"Are you not gonna grill me on what I find appealing about her?"

"Well, she's pretty and kind, right? Plus, she's a doctor, and you're a detective, so it's like a match made in heaven. The world of medicine and investigation, they go together like peanut butter and jelly," I say, attempting to put his mind at ease, even though I'm not entirely sure if my words are hitting the mark.

"Pretty, oh yeah, she's a sight for sore eyes. Kind... Well, she can be a bit frosty at times, but that's part of her charm. We've only known each other for ten months, and just last month, I caught a glimpse of her genuine smile. You're right, I don't know her completely yet, but if she hadn't vanished like a magician's trick, I'm positive I would have unraveled the depths of her being."

My lips stay sealed for a moment. Even though I played my cards right with him, guilt and conscience still nag at me like pesky mosquitoes on a summer evening.

Seems like I was born to be haunted by the ghosts of guilt and conscience, forever lingering in the corridors of my mind.

"Aside from her friend named Zeen, she never mentioned anyone else. I didn't bother delving into her past, so I remain clueless about it. Her history didn't hold much significance for me until her life was tragically cut short."

Sadness and confusion are evident in his words. As much as I want to comfort him, it wouldn't serve any purpose in our current situation. What has happened is in the past, and there is no room for pity regarding his current struggles. Allowing our emotions to prevail would only further deceive us from the enemy's grasp.

"Besides her friend Zeen, how frequently did she mention that name?" I interject abruptly. He chuckles in response.

"Why?"

"Just answer the question."

"It depends on our conversations."

"Have you noticed anything peculiar whenever she brings up that name?"

He pauses, taking a moment to reflect. I'm not insinuating Zeen's involvement, but exploring all angles is crucial. In my experience with 200 murder cases, what may initially appear insignificant often demands attention. Trust issues extend far beyond mere words.

"She avoids making eye contact when she mentions that name..."

"Why do you suppose she does that?"

"Maybe discussing it makes her uncomfortable?"

"And why is that?"

He ponders once again. Now I comprehend why they hesitated to assign a detective closely connected to the victim. Bias becomes inevitable.

Yet, there's still a part of this man that yearns to safeguard every aspect of Kira's life. Perhaps he's still immersed in the grieving process.

"I don't know. You tell me. I haven't had the opportunity to truly know Kira yet."

As a detective, it's implausible for you to be oblivious to the reasons behind Kira's behavior.

I gasp, averting my gaze from the man. I fear uttering words I may come to regret.

Reaching my cellphone, I compose a message to Lesia.

"Please exclude Detective Ace from this investigation. He's no longer assisting."

Sighing, I stare at Kira's reply, adorned with laughing emojis.

Deciding it's time to depart, I gather the picture of Kira and Daxxe from the table.

"Let me borrow this for a while; I'll return it to Lesia tomorrow."

He nods in agreement, prompting my exit. It's only now that I notice the enveloping darkness outside. The station's perpetual illumination blurs the distinction between day and night.

I swiftly hail a taxi, and after approximately 20 minutes, we arrive at the corner where I need to alight. Settling the fare, I step out onto the pavement.

A short walk remains before I reach home. At this hour, our subdivision exudes tranquility.

Lost in contemplation, I stroll unhurriedly. I sense our pursuit of the killers drawing nearer. Merely a handful of questions remain unanswered. We stand on the precipice of completing the puzzle.

Or is it truly just one piece? It's premature to conclude, Lynn.

I halt my steps as a sense of being followed washes over me. Swiftly, I retrieve my cell phone, feigning interest in a message.

My pace quickens, surpassing its previous speed. The footsteps I hear an echo in synchronization with my hurried strides, solidifying the fact that I am indeed being pursued.

I suppress the fear that lingers within. I am not their primary target yet. As long as Doctor Jhasmine remains alive, I am not their objective. Perhaps their intention is simply to intimidate me.

A chain-like pattern emerges in my mind regarding the killers. They select their initial target and proceed to methodically eliminate all witnesses to their atrocious crimes. However, this current modus operandi may alter, considering the fact that they operate as a pair.

Lost in contemplation, my attention locked onto the footsteps trailing behind me, I inadvertently collided with someone.

"Oh, my apologies, miss," the tall man offers his narrow eyes, prominent nose, and enticing lips instantly capturing my focus.

"Ah, I'm sorry as well. I didn't see you," I responded apologetically, swiftly scanning the surroundings.

"Is there a problem? Your walking pace seems unstable. Is someone following you or something?"

I find myself gazing at his face, illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlights. His features are unfamiliar to me, adding an air of mystery to his presence. It's as if he's a passerby at this moment or perhaps visiting someone nearby.

"How do you know?" I curiously inquired, my voice tinged with intrigue.

"Oh, I spotted you from afar. You seemed too preoccupied to notice me. I'm Race Castillo, by the way," he introduces himself with a friendly smile, extending his hand towards me. I stand there silently, hesitant to reciprocate the gesture.

Does he really feel the need to introduce himself in the midst of this dimly lit street? It strikes me as an odd choice.

With a slightly sheepish expression, he withdraws his hand. "Ah, I apologize if I seemed overly familiar. In case you're wondering why I'm here, it's because I recently moved to Block 11, Lot 2."

I realize that his new residence is in close proximity to where I live. Our house is situated in Block 11, Lot 8. Could he be the owner of the vacant lot, which has long been unoccupied due to the owner supposedly residing abroad?

Is he the owner's son, or did he simply purchase the lot for some other reason?

"Sorry once again, I should continue ahead," I say, taking the lead and resuming my steps. Though I can sense his presence trailing behind me, I pause momentarily and glance back at him.

"Oh, we happen to be heading the same way. I'm not following you," he clarifies, sensing my unspoken question.

"Don't you have somewhere specific to go?" I inquire, curiosity driving my words. It seems unlikely for him to be walking this path without a destination in mind unless his intention is solely to encounter me.

"I'm just taking a leisurely stroll. Considering the possibility of rain, I'm heading back home," he replies, his voice carrying a hint of lightheartedness amidst the darkness of the night.

I halt my conversation with him and resume my stride. It's evident that I will simply pass by his house, leaving him with no choice but to offer me a fleeting glance.

A gust of wind forcefully sweeps through as I finally step into the house. In the living room, I find Mother engrossed in the glow of the television, her attention instantly captured by my presence.

"I'm fine, Mom," I offer a reassuring smile, striving to alleviate any concerns etched on her face.

"Have you eaten? I'll prepare something for you..."

"I'll eat later, Mom. I'll take care of it. You should eat and rest as well."

"Shouldn't we eat together?"

"I still have a few things to do."

Before she can further insist, I retreat into the sanctuary of my room. My sling bag is casually flung onto the bed, while my cell phone and the picture of Kira and Daxxe find their careful place on the study table. The room remains engulfed in darkness, a comforting ambiance to which I am accustomed.

The man residing in Lot 2 infiltrates my thoughts once again. His affability now rings alarm bells of suspicion.

Or perhaps, my tendency to harbor trust issues amplifies my doubts?

An exclamation escapes my lips as a resounding thud reverberates from the window. The impact suggests a forceful strike against its surface.

Reacting swiftly, I rise to my feet, peering intently outside. With the window facing the street, it offers me a glimpse of the figure responsible, if indeed there is anyone.

The darkness veils the surroundings, hindering my ability to discern a person's presence near the gate. Squinting, I strain my eyes, questioning the authenticity of the figure before me, uncertain if my perception deceives me.

The silhouette reveals a back, concealed by a hood. The gender remains elusive, prompting my uncertainty as it gradually pivots in my direction.

"Die, bitch."

My throat constricts, a convulsive swallow betraying the fear that courses through me. Overwhelmed, I collapse onto the floor, succumbing to the chilling echo of those words.

The killer... The male killer has arrived, casting a sinister shadow over my realm.