The tea kettle started whistling loudly, making me jump off my chair to turn off the gas before one of the neighbors think that I'm having some kind of a fire in the kitchen. A brew tea is always a good call on a Monday night.
Monday. It has been a week since Elizabeth Miller was murdered and roughly four days for Alice Studman's death as well. My mind was focused on her family now. How are they handling it? Really stupid question. Garrett is probably still blank staring the window with his kids crying beside him, missing their mom.
It must be really frustrating to be sitting at home, waiting for the police to show up at your door, unannounced, with information about the person who murdered your wife. How can you stand the fact that the one who did it is out there, walking peacefully without any care in the world?
I've placed the kettle on a tray after pouring the boiling water in a cup because that's how I liked its temperature. Then, I plunged the raspberry tea bag in it as I watched my beverage simultaneously becoming reddish.
One of the little things that makes my nerves relax is the fluid color of an aroma slightly blending with the water.
Science really is amazing.
I took the tray to the living room before plumping myself on the couch, opening the TV.
No, I wasn't in the mood for weather reports or any documentary about a caterpillar building a cocoon to become a sublime multicolored butterfly.
After switching over the channels, I've found "Amityville".
Just what I needed.
I've watched this movie a hundred times and I never get tired of it. Though, I couldn't stop thinking about what was Garrett doing right now.
This man is still a suspect to me.
I glanced at the pill boxes that I placed on the coffee table, the day I found them in the dumpsters. I'm not sure if he was the one who threw them away, knowing that the police requested every single object that led to Elizabeth's death. If he really did it, then he must've seen the knife and the piece of fabric. Was he aware that his wife was exposed to a serious threat? Or was he the threat himself?
I saw someone hiding behind the parked truck when I dreamt about Elizabeth hurrying herself to the apartment, a few minutes away.
Maybe he was the shadow.
I refused to ask myself another question and not getting any answer so I made my way to his place. I lifted my hand, hesitating for a moment, then deciding to knock on his door which he opened, in an instant.
-"Miles Montgomery. That's... Unexpected." He said, with a smile in the left corner of his lips.
I arched my eyebrows at his sudden mood. He was really different from the last time we interacted. No pale face, no sour look. Nothing. He looked roughly like someone whose wife recently died and was, on the contrary, baking his favorite pie for dessert.
-"Come in." he offered, opening the door wide and letting me in.
I stepped inside, glancing around. The apartment was really neat. Maybe, he focused himself on the cleaning to avoid thinking about the tragedy.
-"Ian! Julie! Come say hi to... Our dear neighbor." He cheerfully called his children. There was a hint of irony in his voice.
The two kids came from their room; Ian extended his hand. I laughed at his gesture before shaking it. Meanwhile, Julie was standing behind her brother, silent.
YOU ARE READING
Two Miles to Heaven
Mystery / ThrillerThe story takes place in the Big Apple where Miles Montgomery, a former police officer in Boston decides to move back after getting fired. Reuniting with his high-school best friend Kendall Jones, he will put his heart and soul to solve the mysteri...