Shocking Memories

Chapter 8

"Liv? This is detective Emile, open up!" Came a stern voice, followed promptly by several loud knocks from my door, stirring me to wakefulness. I found that I had passed out on the couch, still wearing my hoodie. I rolled onto my butt, sitting up, and looked down at my outfit, trying to determine if I needed to change. I heard the knock again, and the voice reminding me exactly who was on the other side, encouraging me to at least pull my hoodie off before opening the door, leaving me in a clean tee shirt depicting a happy tree reading: Leafing so soon? I wasn't sure exactly what I was expecting on the other side of the door, maybe a SWAT team? But if I'd guessed 'two grizzled older men who'd been up all night' then I would have been right.

I opened the door, revealing the two stooges. Emile stood upright while Tomblin seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and hunched over. Part of me was happy that it was these two paying me a visit, I could only imagine Hale coming one floor down and knocking on my door, I felt so much more vulnerable than before. However, I also realized this would be my first interaction with them without Jared to fend off their questions, which was a separate concern for another time. The door was open, closing it now would be too soon, I could only hope that such a realization would come faster next time, before I opened the door.

"Hello detectives." I said, trying to keep the nervousness out of my voice. I failed to do so. "How may I help you?"

Emile removed his hat, revealing bushy black hair beneath. "May we come in and talk ma'am? We just have a few questions."

"No." I said immediately, surprising all three of us. "I didn't have anything to hide, but I liked having the option to close the door in their face. Open the door for the devil, and he may never leave, so to speak.

"Well ma'am, I'll be honest with you." Emile continued. "We've been out all night, really busy, some goofs decided to have a street race with a van and flipped the damn thing, really banged it up too. Who would use a van in a street race anyway? What a poor choice."

I blushed, recalling it was I who had been so foolish to race in a van. Emile, a man who seemed sharper than he let on, might have noticed this. "You guys were up investigating a street race?" I asked, hoping that was actually a ridiculous idea.

Tomblin shook his head. "No, there were traces of a smuggling ring in the harbor we came across, that part kept us up." His voice was even, nearly emotionless.

"Smuggling ring?" I asked, looking between the two of them. "What does that have to do with me?" I asked.

"Who said it did?" Emile asked innocently. I couldn't see past his sunglasses, which he apparently wore indoors as well, but I felt as though his eyes had narrowed at me. He detected that he was one wrong word away from getting a door slammed in his face, and back peddled. "What we came to ask you was, if you've seen anything strange around here recently? We believe some of the people complicit in the smuggling ring might be held up here." He looked up to the ceiling, possibly exasperated. "Likely on the top floor, but that's a private floor and we can't investigate unless we have proof for our suspicions. Warrants and what not."

Feeling relief, I let out a small sigh and replied. "I haven't seen anything." It may very well have been a lie, but I didn't need any more attention on myself, much less from those thugs above me. I considered the idea that I could climb up the wall and just take some photographic evidence of the albino being up there, but I could see that information getting out, and who else would they think took said photos? "Would you like me to give you a call if I do?"

It was Tomblin's turn to shake his head. "No, don't you worry about that, we'll catch these guys eventually. We just want you to stay safe."

"Yeah." Emile cut in. "I wouldn't worry about us. We always get our crook." He took one last look around my apartment, a move that felt invasive, and uninvited, before clearing his throat and walking away.