Simpler Things

Part 19: Filed.

                                                             Jason Wickham. Died of internal bleeding. Filed under murder, from consumption of an unknown drug. I scrolled the page down. It happened last night, at 11. Some poor girl stumbled upon the body, which was left in a washroom. I stayed home. I texted Charlie, who went back to the hospital. He didn't have plans on leaving. I sat on my bed. After awhile of procrastinating, my phone pinged. Megan.

Did you hear?

I responded,

yes.

She wrote back,

Is your dad on the case?

Good question. I didn't know. I rolled off my bed, leaving my phone. I headed toward the stairs and slid down each step. I stopped at the bottom of the staircase and looked outside. The ground was covered in a couple centimeters of snow. The powdered sugar laced the now bare trees. It was almost poetic. I want to explore. I did. I really did. I hadn't done it in so long.

I went back up the stairs. I opened my door to see my phone screen turn on, the notification sounded. I checked the screen. 4 new messages.

Hello???

You can't get rid of me that easily.

You better be typing something.

I know where you live

I picked up my phone. I didn't feel like responding, but I had too.

Do you have any other friends.

She left me on read. I sent back,

Petty.

She responded,

There are thousands of English adjectives, and you chose that one?

Pitiful.

I texted my goodbyes, saying I wanted to nap, and continued on my day. I needed to get to that crime scene. I just don't know how. Until I got a knock on my door.
                            I opened the door. My father stood there looking at me.
"The blood samples came back." He said.
"And..." I encouraged.
"Poison." He handed me a file, and came inside. I closed the door behind me, my eyes stuck to the file. I opened it and said,
"Why did it take so long?"
"We believe someone in forensics doesn't want those," he pointed to the file, "out in the open."
I opened the file. There were photos of James, laying against my willow tree. The willow tree I climbed. The willow tree I loved. All those memories seemed... rotten. Just like the decaying body of James Cameron. I flipped the image, revealing documents.
"His dad and his mom died?" I asked.
"Back in spring."
"Oh..." I looked back at the file. "Car accident?" Dad nodded.
"You said poison?" I looked up, Dad got up and flipped the pages, finally finding the one labeled, 'Evidence'.
I scanned the page.
"You think it was a suicide?" My dad nodded again.
"But he was shot-"
"The killer. Must've been."
"We have to stop calling him 'the killer'. That son-of-a-bi-." He cut me off.
"Doesn't deserve a name."
"Why did he kill someone who wanted to kill themself?"
"He wanted to make a public statement. You were close to James,  maybe he wanted you to feel... something."
"So you think that Killer X,"
"No nicknames." My father interrupted. I continued,
"Wants to kill people around... me? Why?"
"Daughter of a police. He could be somebody I put away years ago..." He trailed off.
"Can you check on that." I said, flatly.
"Wanna tag along?"
"And skip school?" My dad paused. I continued, smiling devilishly,
"Of course."

                   We headed to the department, careful of the poor road conditions.
"There's another one." I pointed at the car in the ditch. We pulled over to check if the man was okay. He was. We asked if he wanted us to call help, he said he already had. We went back on the road, we didn't see another crash on the rest of the way there.

"So you'd think that someone as skilled as yourself would be able to think of someone, anyone, who would want to, I don't know, kill a bunch of people and traumatize your daughter. Not a single name?" I said, as we pulled into the precinct.

"I have an idea. I just don't want it to be a possibility."

                         We walked, my father headed directly to the captain's office. I waited at a desk near the entrance. a man with a crooked nose came up to me.

"This is my desk."

"Sorry, I'm just waiting for my father." I pointed towards the office.

"Oh... okay... don't do anything illegal." he turned away, then he walked away.
"Okay..." I waited a couple more minutes until my father walked out of the office smiling.
He flicked his hand in the direction he was walking. I got up and quickly walked over.
"So..." I said, encouraging him to explain. We walked down a hallway.
"Cap allowed us to look at all my old case files," We headed towards a door reading 'files', "Dating back to the early 90's." He said, opening the door.
"How long will this take? What if he kills someone else?" I questioned.
"I have someone in mind." Before I could ask, he set to work.
            "Ah." He said grimly.
"What!" I abruptly stood up off of the case file I was sitting on. "What'd you find?"
"It's not a 'what'," he handed me a dusty file, "it's a who."