Like a Moth to a Flame

Andrew 12

I couldn't have been more relieved when I realized it was Jenna calling and not work. I couldn't bare to listen about Lisa's first meeting with this jerk. He really was apiece of work and I still don't understand how she got tied up with this prick but I hope tonight's visit to his apartment answers some of my many questions.

I finally arrive at his apartment about an hour earlier than Grant. I pull aside the yellow crime scene tape draped across his front door as I unlock it and step inside. It wreaks of iron and a rotting, moldy scent. I place face mask and shoe covers on and head in. The shades are closed and there's a beige couch to the left side of the room which has a giant blood stain on half of it. There's a pool of dried blood on the floor near the couch and a coffee table in front with books tossed about. I walk over to the coffee table, leaning over read the titles of the books he had. "Lolita" and another book by Cormac McCarthy. Interesting. I turn around facing the couch and try and picture the position of his body according to the crime scene photos. This was a bloody mess.

He had 14 stab wounds to his upper torso and arms. One stab wound to his neck, maybe when he was tossing about, trying to fight his attacker, which seemed to have nicked his aorta. That would explain the large blood stain trailing down the side of the couch pooling on the floor. There's a brown wooden bookshelf with more books filling the 3 shelves and there's photos on top of it. There's one of a young teenage girl and him. She's light complected with long brown hair and brown eyes. She's smiling in this photo and has braces. He's standing with his right arm draped around her shoulder with dark brown hair, tan skin, dark brown eyes, as scruffy beard and he's got a closed mouth smile. She looks like him. Could be a younger sister or even his daughter. Did his file ever mention this?

I continue walking around through his kitchen which was right off the living room. There are slight blood droplets leading towards the sink. Attacker probably tried to wash off his blood from their hands and from the weapon itself. I continue down a hallway that leads to his small, plain white restroom and finally to his bedroom.

Its a small bedroom with the shades closed, tan curtains hanging with a flat screen tv on one side of the room and a full sized bed on the other. The comforter and pillows look disheveled. There's a brown dresser with his change and wallet laid on top and another photo of the young girl I saw in his living room. There's also a copy of the book Macbeth. I search through his top drawer, moving about his underwear and undershirts. I feel around the drawer, against the sides and feel something towards the back. I pull out an evidence bag and pull out what I've discovered. Its a black cell phone. Why would he be hiding a cell phone?

I continue feeling around but don't find anything else. I search the other two drawers and come up empty handed. I look under his bed and don't see anything but shoes and a couple of books. This guy liked to read. I remember his file stating he had graduated with a degree in English. I head over to his closet and notice how clean and orderly it is. I move his clothes from side to side, inspecting the closet for anything else that he could have hidden. I look up on the shelf above his clothes and find shoe boxes that housed baseball cards but one of those dusty boxes pushed way to the back housed something different. It contained 2 videotapes and photos of naked women. This pervert looked to have recorded his rendezvous and taken photos of the acts. I put on my latex gloves as I look at each photo of the naked women, different ethnicities, different locations, but in some of these photos, he was in them as well. Some he was positioned behind them, pulling their hair as he screwed them and in one of these photos he was looking straight at the camera with a blank look to his eyes. No reaction. Its eerie.

I put that photo down and go through the next ones, all different positions he had these women either pose in or just randomly set the camera to take the photos.

My mind wanders to Lisa and I hope that none of these photos are of her.

Just then I hear Grant's voice in the front room. "Reynolds, how the fuck did you get here so early and why didn't you let me know?" He sounds frustrated to be partnered with me to figure this one out. "Has your dumb ass found anything of use yet? I've got a date with a woman I met on Tinder in 2 hours so lets get this done asap."

"I'm in the bedroom down the hall and I think I've got something." Grant walks in and sees the photo strewn across the wooden floor as he squats down to get a closer look. "this dick kept the photos?!" "Oh and the videos too" I say as I point towards the box. "No shit, what a dumb fuck. But I guess he never thought he'd be in this position, right?" He pulls out an evidence bag and places the tapes into it as he goes back into the closet and searches again.

We spend another hour canvasing his furniture, turning it upside down making sure we didn't miss any hiding spots because he hid one more photo of a naked woman but it was just of her neck on down so there's no telling who it could be.

Grant heads back out to his car and brings in the crime scene camera and snaps photos of every room,every detail and evidence that we've found as he smiles and says,"this fucker looked like he had it coming."

I find slight pleasure in knowing he's off the face of this earth but I have to know now, who did this and why? I have to know it wasn't Lisa who brutally murdered him. I have to know because she's the last person to have been seen with him and her fingerprints are all over this place. I have to know she's not the murderer the evidence is making her out to be.