That weekend, I spent the evening over at Oliver's. It was pouring outside so he and I rooted ourselves in front of the television in the living room, stuffing our faces with chocolate and ice cream as we binged an entire season of the Ghostbusters. By the time it drew close to dinnertime, our eyes were heavy with exhaustion.
It was after Oliver had disappeared into his room to take a shower that the front door opened. I glanced over my shoulder from where I was resting my belly, to spot Oliver's older sister, detective Kimberly Hall enter, shrugging off her drenched jacket. Locks of unruly brown hair had escaped her tight bun and had tumbled over her brown eyes but she didn't both brushing them away.
I sat bolt upright almost instantly.
"Hey, kiddo," she greeted upon seeing me, too exhausted to muster a smile.
I knew Oliver's dad had left his family when he was little, completely disappeared from their lives without a trace to marry a young, loaded bimbo. Apparently, they hadn't heard from him since. Just a few years prior, his mother suffered a sudden stroke and became fully paralyzed. It was a harrowing experience for them all.
According to Oliver, even though his sister had received a big promotion out of town, she had chosen to stay, determined to remain by their mother's side and nurse her.
Since then, I'd had a great respect for Kimberly.
"Trouble at work?" I murmured as she sank into the sofa beside me. She nodded.
"Lots." She glanced at the bowls of leftover dessert that littered the table across her and chuckled, "I swear, if you and Oliver stay friends for any longer, Charley, you're going to get him obese. Chocolate, wafers, ice cream and oreos, together? What lunatic got you into these unhealthy habits?"
"Your brother." She burst into laughter.
Sobering up, I asked her as casually as I could, "How are things going with my dad's case?"
Her grin immediately stilled, then disappeared as she met my gaze, "Charley, you know it's against the rules to disclose information about an ongoing investigation. I could lose my job for it."
I swallowed the bitterness on my tongue and continued, ignoring her, "Have you dropped all suspicions on Morgan after the trial?"
"Charley-"
"Because I don't think he's innocent, Kimberly," I added desperately. She was looking at me sympathetically and I couldn't bear the sight of it but I didn't stop, "The story he told at court, to me, sounded like the sort of nonsense you'd make up for a trial just to save your ass. I mean, there's nearly a thousand motels in the country, Kim! What are the chances of Christian's rehab being so close to the exact motel dad stopped at during that exact time?"
"So what do you propose he did?" Kim argued, "There was evidence, Charley, evidence of Christian staying at the motel for months before the 24th, evidence of Morgan and your dad being on good terms before that-"
I cut her off impatiently, "But if he called my dad to the motel to... to kill him, then this was planned. So why can't he have sent his brother to that particular rehab for that exact reason? Or why couldn't he have picked that motel specifically because he knew Christian could alibi him out?"
Kimberly stared at me and I could see the wheels of her brain were at work.
"Possible," she finally muttered, "But what about all the evidence they showed at the trial? None of it could be linked to him, and trust me, we tried every possible way."
I opened my mouth, then shut it again. Tried to rack my brain for answers. For a few minutes, neither of us uttered a word. Then finally, I came to a sudden realization, my eyes widening as I did so, "What if the evidence was fabricated?"
"Fabricated?"
"I mean, think of it!" I cried, my heart pounding faster in my chest. I sprang to my feet then, and began pacing up and down the living room, "He knew he was going to be suspected, right? So he wanted- needed- to throw you guys off the trail. What better way than planting the wrong evidence? I mean, he wiped the car clean; don't you think it's a little strange for him to be so careless as to leave soil behind at the actual crime scene?"
Kimberly shook her head, sighing heavily as she slumped on the sofa in defeat, "You've been watching too much TV, kiddo. Charley, I am telling you Morgan Walker is innocent."
"But why?!" I cried in irritation, "You know, I'd tell you to interrogate his brother. But oh wait," I added sarcastically, "I can't do that now, can I, when he very conveniently died in a fire a few months after the trial?"
The detective sat bolt upright, "Wait, how did you know that?" Her brown eyes narrowed instantly in suspicion, "Charley, don't tell me you've been talking to Walker all this time."
I swallowed hard. Okay, maybe adding that last sentence hadn't been the smarted move. Nevertheless, I shrugged nonchalantly, "It shouldn't be a problem, should it, Kim, when you seem so sure he's innocent."
She frowned, "Charley, I get that you want to be involved in this. But I don't want you getting in the way of our investigation, alright?"
"I wasn't. I was just talking to an old friend of my dad's," I lied.
Kimberly cocked her eyebrow in my direction, clearly not buying it. She then stared at me, frowning, as if struggling to decide something.
"Forget about Walker," she finally told me, "And I'm only telling you this because I don't want you digging into this case and getting yourself into any trouble. I don't want you telling this to anybody, Charley, or I could be kicked out of my job. I mean it." She shot me a stern look and I nodded, waiting with bated breath as she continued, "We don't suspect Walker anymore for more than one reason, okay? For one, that night, when he walked into that motel, he was angry; he made a huge commotion. If he planned this murder, then any fool wouldn't have done that, Charley. He would've kept a low profile and tried to slip in unnoticed, but he didn't do that."
"But-" I started, but the detective cut me off.
"Secondly, our professionals estimated the height of the killer, Charley- from the evidence at the scene. I can't tell you what it was, but Walker was way too tall to be our killer. And three, from what the stab wound showed us, our killer was right handed. Walker is left handed, Charley. He has to be innocent."
My heart sank in my chest the moment her words sank in. I was lost for words. What could I say when the physical evidence ruled him out?
Kimberly looked at me sympathetically and edged forward, placing a hand on my shoulder comfortingly. She gazed at me in silence for a moment, before she spoke, her voice low and laced with emotion, "Charley, for all we know, anybody could be involved in this, maybe even someone powerful, more powerful than you or I. We don't know. I know it's tough and I know you're hungry for the truth. But this thing is dangerous. I want you to stay out of it; let me do my job."
My eyes stung with tears and a moment passed before I could answer her and my voice cracked in defeat as I did so, "I can't, Kim. You know I can't."
_____________________
A/N- Alriiight, so there was no Adrian in this chapter. I thought I'd develop on the mystery instead. Sooo... what do you think?
Still feel suspicious of Morgan? If not, who do you suspect??? Lots more to come, of course! I'll be updating as soon as I can; I've finally found time to write!!! So tell me what you think of the story so far and stay awesome ;)

YOU ARE READING
How to Kill a Man in Thirty Seconds
Mystery / ThrillerSince her father's sinister murder three years ago, Charley Green's life has never been the same. She finds her family shattered and frozen in the tragedy that derailed their lives that fateful Christmas morning, in which her father's lifeless body...