365 Days

6

I pulled into Joe's partner's driveway and killed the engine, ducking out of my car. The box was resting in my lap. I tucked it under my arm and headed towards the front door.

A guy opened the door before I had a chance to knock and shoved a peice of paper at me.

Peter?

I looked up at him, confused. He raised an eyebrow. I suddenly realized what he wanted. I nodded. He took the paper from me and pressed it against the wall, writing something else on it before shoving it back at me.

Thanks.

I read it before handing over the box. "No problem."

He started to turn away, but I stopped him. "Wait."

He turned back around, one eyebrow raised again.

"I...I'm sorry about your friend. If there's anything I can do, call me."

He didn't repsond, but he didn't turn away.

"The wreck your friend was in wasn't an accident," I continued.

The guy turned to face me fully, eyes wide. He waited a moment, probably thinking. Then he turned and motioned me inside.

He shut the door behind me and motioned me into the living room. On his way, he grabbed a notebook from the shelf and flipped it open to a new page. He sunk down onto a leather chair and I settled on the chair across from him.

"Uhm..."

He looked up at me.

"Can I get your name?" I asked.

He wrote something down on the notebook and handed it to me.

Sorry. It's Tyler.

I handed it back. "Thanks."

He shrugged, wrote something else down, and handed the notebook to me again.

What happened with Joe?

"I went to go visit my mom this morning. I was there for at least two hours before I came back. I passed a blue Ford that was waiting on the side of the road. I didn't pay much attention to it. It was old and rusty and I figured it had just broken down there. When I came back, your friend was at a red light for just a moment. I saw the driver of the Ford notice your friend and hit the gas."

Tyler sat there, looking at his hands for a while before writing something down and handing the notebook to me.

What do you do for a living?

"I work."

No, seriously.

"Seriously, I work."

He looked frusterated with me and I finally just answered him.

"I'm actully unemployed right now, but I have my bachelors in forensic science and have worked in crime labs in the past."

His eyes widened and he quickly wrote something down on his notebook and shoved it at me.

I need your help then. I can't pay you though, sorry.

I shrugged. "I don't need to be payed. What do I need to do?"