The Perfect Alibi (GirlxGirl)

2

The sound of my car honking shattered my ears for what had to be the billionth time as I came running outside with my messy hair and mismatched pantsuit. The sun barely crept above the horizon, and the pavement was still wet from last night's rain. My breath puffed out a cloud of cold air as I trudged into the car, heaving a heavy sigh. "Sorry, the power went off last night and reset my alarm clock," I explained.

"There's this really useful invention called an iPhone. It's like a handheld computer that can-"

I shoved her hand over Kayla's mouth which muffled her speech. "You're a lot more pleasant when you shut up." She licked my hand and I released it, wiping it on my pants.

"Well, I think you're always pleasant."

"How sweet, but we're going to be late if you sit here and marvel at me all day."

She started driving. "You look like a disaster."

"Well, not all of us have the luxury of time to get ready with our overpriced Sephora makeup."

"An iPhone has many functions, one of which-"

"I hate you."

She smiled. "You love me."

Then Kayla rummaged around her feet for the file in her purse and handed it to me. "Here's some information on Mrs. Sheffield and her son."

I quickly scanned through it before providing a brief summary of the necessary information. "Angela Sheffield is her name. She met Greg in university. She'd been studying culinary arts and he'd been studying business. They'd gotten married before he'd made success with his business, so no signs of gold digging. There's more background information, but it's not particularly relevant.

"Their son's name is Louis. He's twenty two and still lives in their house. He went to the University of Chicago for business, to follow in his father's footsteps, but remains unemployed after receiving his MBA. There's no knowledge of any current girlfriends. Again, there's more about him here, but it's all irrelevant."

She nodded. "My guess is that little Louis is too lazy to start a business of his own like his old man so he's couch surfing in his childhood mansion and fucking skanky whores in the back of his father's Lamborghinis."

"I guess we're about to find out," I said as we pulled up to the gold painted gates of the estate. We showed the guard our badges, and he let us in.

The gold-painted gates opened slowly, as if in slow motion, and we drove past perfectly trimmed hedges that could only be the product of a highly-paid gardener's care. The driveway stretched ahead like a private road and the mansion stood at the end in all its pristine architectural beauty. Tall white pillars like those of The White House. It was the type of place that felt more like a museum than a home, like the people inside were as perfectly curated as the landscape.

We parked the car and walked up the fifty front steps to the doorbell I'd been expecting to start playing Für Elise.

"I'll be good cop, you be bad cop," Kayla said.

"I'm not doing that."

"You don't have to. It's your natural state, anyway."

A woman came to open the door. "Good morning Ms. Sheffield," Kayla said. How soon we drop the Mrs. "As we called yesterday, we're detectives from the Chicago PD in charge of your husband's case. We'd like to just ask you and your son a few questions to help with the investigation, if you wouldn't mind."