Who Murdered The Night?|✔️

Chapter Three

The sound of thunder made me shudder as I drove to the station. The rain splattered on the car, it's drops rolling down the windows, almost distracting me.

I drove into the wet parking lot and parked my car.

I always wanted to be a detective. My parents were surprised when I majored in it.

The main room was how it always looked. Dull grey walls and black gates securing the windows. I nodded at officer Cooper and walked into Melvin's office.

Melvin was the other detective that was assigned to me. There he was, sitting behind his desk and munching on cookies.

"You'll never have enough of that, will you?" I shook my head as I took a sit opposite him.

"This brand is the best in town, you need to check it out." He winked.

"So much accolade for a pack of cookies?" I laughed.

"How was the night?" He leaned closer, studying me. He knew my problems.

"Good. Very good." I said to keep him out of my face.

"I was wondering if we could drive together to the McDane's place, my car broke down again. He said, his eyes on his keys.

"Sure, we can. The earlier, the better." I said, getting up immediately.

"Who doesn't know how detective Flauvia does her thing?" He smirked and got up too, rubbing his slightly oversized tummy. He grabbed three chocolate bars and extended one to me. I shook my head and he dropped them in his pocket.

The twenty minute drive was silent, save the noisy munching on chocolates provided by Melvin.

I pulled into the McDane's driveway. Their car was not there, making me wonder if they were not at home. We got down anyway. Melvin noticed my hesitation in pressing the doorbell and he went ahead to do it.

I felt my chest tighten as I heard Kendall's voice from inside, telling us the door was not locked. Melvin opened the door and stepped in. I followed.

The silence in the house was not strange. I had the same feeling I had every time I opened my door, expecting to see Camille.
I figured Kendall must feel the same way. Expecting a boisterous teenager to welcome you and a gust of silence hits you instead.

"Detective Flauvia." She nodded and I noticed how botched her eyes were.

"Hello, Mrs McDane." I greeted and walked closer into the house.

"I'm sorry but I didn't get your name the other day." She faced Melvin.

"Melvin. Detective Melvin." He said and sat down. I did the same and got ready to ask questions.

"How are you doing?" I asked, even when the answer was quite glaring.

"Getting to terms with the fact that I'll never see my baby again." She said and faced down. I nodded and she continued.

"Blanche is not around, he went to pick his daughter." She said.

That was new information.

"Blanche has a daughter?" I asked.

"Yes. Night is his step daughter." She clarified.

"Do you think you can answer questions today? We could come back anytime." I asked and Melvin shot me a glare. He did not understand, did he?

"Of course, I am." She forced a smile.

"How would you describe your daughter?" Melvin dived in immediately. She smiled.

"Night Levine is everything. So cheerful. Always on top of the class. So carefree. You know like every other twelve year old, she has no problems." She said. I noticed she still said everything in present tense. "Everyone likes her." She continued. "I think she had a teeny tiny crush on Max, a boy in her class." She smiled as she recollected the memories.

I nodded for her to continue. I watched her eyes glisten with tears she was trying to hold back in.

"I heard noises that night, it was like people were arguing in hushed tones. I paid no attention to it. She stopped and grabbed a tissue paper and wiped her nose.

"Why?" I asked, trying to stay sane.

"No one could possibly be angry. We had prayed and gone to bed, just three of us. Then the noises came. It wasn't my fault that I paid no attention to it. I had a cold and I took drugs, the drugs made me oblivious to what was happening." She sniffed.

"So you can't remember what the people were saying?" Melvin asked her.

She tried to think. "No, I guess. It's fuzzy. I want to remember but I can't. I remember the voices were angry, and no one ever gets angry around here. I thought it was a dream." I could tell she was blaming herself so badly. Knowing you could have prevented an incidence before it took a life could be so tasking. The thought weighs on you and leaves a large irreparable hole in your chest.

"So you woke up the next morning to meet her dead body at the foot of the staircase?" Melvin asked as if he did not know already.

"Jesus Christ!" Kendall exclaimed. "It breaks my heart to think about it." She sobbed into her palms.

"Where was your husband during all these? The midnight encounter to the morning reveal." Melvin asked, his eyes perking up with interest.

"He was in his office."

"Office?" Melvin and I asked simultaneously.

"Home office." She corrected. "He sometimes works from home. I remember him say he was not getting any sleep and that he'd be at the office. He usually does that."

"What time did this happen?" Melvin sat back in his chair.

"Around ten, I guess. We pray and go to bed at nine thirty." She shrugged.

"And the incidence took place much later." Melvin said, more of a statement than a question. Kendall squirmed under his gaze.

"Thanks for your time, Mrs McDane. We'll be in touch." I intervened. I ignored Melvin's protesting looks. The woman was uncomfortable, she was doing so much work telling us all that. How could he not see it?

I thought the ride back to the office would be silent, but it wasn't.

"If the McDane man was at his office at ten and the incidence happened later..." He trailed off.

What was he insinuating? Blanche murdered Night? But why?

It didn't feel right.

Somehow, it felt too... direct? Yes, that's the word.

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