Bookview Valley 2

Chapter Four: Are You F***ing Kidding Me?

Wednesday, January 15th (Edited 6/30/24)

Rushing out of the bathroom, the door slamming behind me, I look around the coffee shop. A crowd has gathered around the spiral stairs that lead up to the loft; all of them looking up. I spot Nick among them, staring up in horror. I slowly walk over to him.

"What happened?" I ask.

"Uh," Nick glances at me, his blue-green eyes refuse to fully meet mine, "I really don't think you want to know..."

"Nick. Tell me."

Nick clears his throat, but before he says anything sirens sound from outside. The crowd parts as the officers rush in, along with paramedics, and a stretcher. My stomach drops as a strange feeling rises in me. I hold my breath as they rush up the stairs, frozen in fear. We watch as the paramedics come back down with a body on the stretcher. They haven't covered it yet. I peer around the crowd, trying to see who it is.

"Mark..." I whisper as they finally cover the body, "That was Mark. Why are they covering his body?" My voice rises.

"Morgan..." Nick reaches out to me.

"Don't touch me!" I scream, yanking away from him.

He stares at me in shock, "Morgan, I didn-"

"Leave me alone. Don't..." I rush out of Brewed's doorway, and then heave into a small bush connected to the sidewalk. Wiping my mouth, I watch as the ambulance drives away. An officer walks over to me and hands me a handkerchief.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, you can't leave, yet," He says, "We're going to have to question everyone."

"I know," I sigh, wiping my mouth and sleeve off with the cloth.

"Oh," He stares at me for a second, "Wait, you're Morgan Brooks."

"Yes, I am," I say, pocketing the cloth, because I know he doesn't want it back, "and I already have a suspect."

"I'll get the Sheriff." The cop scurries off as Nick comes out of the building. He glances around before he spots me.

"Morgan, are you okay?"

"No, Nick, and I would recommend you stay away from me," I growl at him, piercing him with my eyes.

"Nick, I didn't kill Mark," He tries to plead with me as the Sheriff walks over.

"Sheriff Mulligan," I say.

"Morgan," He says and glances at Nick, "Nick."

"Sheriff," Nick says.

"Who's your suspect?" The Sheriff asks. 

"Nick fucking Harris," I say, not looking at Nick once. The Sheriff glances at Nick and back at me.

"Would you two mind coming down to the station?"

"Not at all."

...

I sit in the cold interrogation room, steel table under my arms, and yet I somehow knew I'd be back. I take a sip of coffee from the mug that was offered to me earlier. The Sheriff comes into the room and sits across from me. His beady black eyes stare into me, it's hard to read him, but I have a feeling I'm not going to like what he tells me.

"I just finished speaking with Nick," The Sheriff says as he wrings his hands over the desk. Sweat seems to bead the top of his forehead, matting his dark hair onto his head.

"And?"

"I can't exactly say anything, but he did have a point about the many people at Brewed being his alibi."

"That's horse crap, but even so, what about for the other murders?"

"He says his family can back him up," The Sheriff replies, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Don't you think it's suspicious that he left, without a single word to anyone, right before the final throw down with Jamie?"

"I mean..."

"I have reason to believe that there was a second Skeleton all along," I say, "This isn't a copycat. I've told you what Jamie said to me, there's a second one, and I think Nick is it."

"The times were rough, his family was probably just trying to get out of town," The Sheriff reasons, his beady eyes haven't left me once. He's nervous, but determined; trying to let me down softly. All that does is start a fire in my chest, the anger bubbling deep inside of me.

"Everyone is guilty until proven innocent," I say, my anger erasing my common sense.

"That's not ho-"

"Besides, I have some more evidence."

"Go on."

"Last night, I agreed, through text, to meet up with Nick at Brewed today. He told me he couldn't last night, because he would be busy. Then last night an innocent woman dies."

"That is a weird coincidence," The Sheriff says, then takes a breath, "For the moment we don't have any stable evidence and we still have to talk to Nick's relatives. Until then, Nick is a free man."

"He could kill again!" I exclaim. This is incredulous! We have the killer right here, under our noses, and the Sheriff refuses to do anything about it! He's just going to let Nick kill more innocents?

"Ms. Brooks, I'm sorry, but my hands are tied for the moment," The Sheriff gives me an apologetic look, "For now, just keep your distance and stay safe."

Sighing against my own better judgement, I give in, "Okay, Sheriff. Thank you for your time."

I walk out of the station, ignoring the looks from the officers. I stand out on the sidewalk as I wait for Luci, spotting Nick out of the corner of my eye. He's walking over to me, his usual jean jacket wrapped around him against the cold January air.

"What did I tell you?" I ask him, not sparing him another glance once he reaches me.

"I know you said to leave you alone, but please, Morgan," He says, standing next to me. I can tell he's facing me, but I refuse to move, "you have to believe me. I would never hurt Mark."

"I can't believe you."

"At least know I'm sorry for everything that's happened," Nick sighs, "I'm really sorry and I wish I would've never left." Luci's car pulls up. Without another words I walk to the car, throw myself in, and tell Luci to drive.

"Isn't that Nick?"

"Yes, and you can catch up later, but right now I need to go home."

"Okay," Luci says and backs out. Nick watches us drive away, but I refuse to make eye contact with him. The drive home is silent and uncomfortable; when we get there I go instantly to my room. I make sure my  door is locked as I flop onto my bed and finally cry. Mark's gone, Nick is probably the killer, and there's no one I can talk to. I mean, I can talk to Luci, but he's my brother. All of my friends are dead or killers. I sob into my pillow for hours, ignoring my mom when she tells me dinner is ready, and when she tells me goodnight. I stay on my bed, curled in a fetal position until I fall asleep.