Like a Moth to a Flame

Andrew 2

I can't shake this feeling I have about that woman in the room. I know she's one of our suspects in the murder and I know I'm not supposed to get emotionally involved or attached, but something in me wants to help her. Something in me wants to protect her and I don't know why. Staring at her as she was recounting her memories, watching her get lost in the memories that she had of this man almost had me wishing it was me who's face she was seeing again and that's when I knew I had to take a break.

I walk over to my desk and stare at the open file folder with her name on it and stare blankly at the crime scene photos. James was stabbed multiple times and the empty look he has in one of the photos is enough to give anyone nightmares. I need to do my job and find out what happened and who killed this man who had no criminal record on file. I read my notes from yesterday. "The people interviewed had nothing but nice things to say about him. Family described him as a family man, giving of himself, caring and loving. Co-workers said he was funny and hard worker. Approachable. Made employee of the month several times. No priors."

I glance back at the photo of his body. What could've prompted someone to kill him in such a heinous manner? Was he hiding who he really was? Was the image his family, friends and coworkers remembered, a facade? Could Lisa know who he really was? And are there more women out there who have first hand accounts that could help crack this case? I take a sip of the bitter coffee and remember I offered to bring some to Lisa, but instead I decide on getting her a Coke. She's been through enough and I can't torture her with this toxic stuff I'm forcing myself to drink.

As I'm walking back to the interview room, Coke in hand, I stop just as I reach the door. I walk down the hall and into the room that shares the two way mirror with the one she's in and I look at the petite young woman, so lost and confused as she sleeps. So far she's the only person we can place at the scene of the crime and things don't look good for her right now, given how little we have. I continue watching her as she slowly lifts her head off her arms and looks in my direction and I swear she can feel me watching her. She stares as she blinks a few times and I feel like I've stepped over the line doing this. "Andrew, what the hell?" I can hear my subconscious chastising me as I walk back into the room, placing the soda on the table between us.