On Sturdy Legs

Beyond All Belief

I got past Molly once I got home and headed right to my room. Izzy wasn't in it, so I assumed that she was still out with Matt; they seemed to get along very well and all. If the door had a lock, I would have locked it but settled for closing it.

Molly respected this and didn't come in, but she did knock lightly on the door and call to me. "How did it go? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Molly," I replied to her. I wanted to sound carefree and unphased by the disaster of the date, which I wa. My voice sounded too strained. I didn't even know why.

"Want a snack?" She offered like a person grasping for straws.

It was sweet of her, but I doubted food would necessarily go good with what I was about to read.

"I'm fine," I told her again; my voice still didn't sound right. I forced myself to sound calmer. "Maybe later. Okay, Molly."

She got the message, "okay, just give a yell if you need anything," she replied in her kind voice.

I really needed to give Molly more credit, especially lately. She opened the door but didn't come in or even let me see her; Tarq padded into the room and jumped up on my bed with the actual cat following him. Normally none of the cats came near me.

"Hey, Tarq, hey," I though to remember this cat's name, "Doumu."

Tarq curled up next to me on my bed and the cat sat down near his tail with an expectant look at me. I gave them both a pat on the head before I dared to open the file.

It was clearly a copy of the police file. I had no idea how Mia could have possibly gotten this or why she kept it. Maybe her lawyer gave it to her, maybe she stole it from her. Either way, it had everything: photographs of the crime scene, her statement, and the notes from the rape kit. I immediately put that aside. I didn't need to know that. But even set aside, one phrase popped out at me. There was no DNA of James's found on her or at the crime scene.

I took a deep breath and began to read her statement.

My name is Mia Stone. I began working for James Fisher last December when my old job at the Yarn Barn went out of business. My job was to assist in managing the finances of his business; this involved helping file taxes, plan the monthly budget, and consulting with Fisher on the risks and rewards of the deals he made. I often went along with him on business trips and Fisher often invited me to his home for work parties and out to bars for work parties because he said that it helped his business when people saw me there.

On June 2nd, I attended a party at my friend Ava Adams's house to celebrate the end of the school year. To the party I wore a black cocktail dress that was halter and had two cutouts on either side of my waist. With it was a pair of black ankle boots with a heel, black panties with straps on the hips, and a strapless black bra with lace on it. I got picked up at seven o'clock pm by my friend, Madison Walters, and we got to the party five minutes later.

At the party, I danced for about thirty minutes maybe then I went to the kitchen where some graduated seniors had brought alcohol. I think I had two glasses of orange juice and vodka, maybe half a beer, and a few sips of Ava Adams's Cosmo. Then I went outside to her pool where I stood for ten or so minutes but then one of the boys from school, Jacob Leifeit, pushed me in the pool. I was upset at that and stormed out of the house, but I didn't have a car to drive home and just started walking.

Maybe three blocks or so away from the house, Fisher pulled up beside me in his car--it was a Camaro--and asked me if I wanted a ride. Something seemed off about him that night, so I told him that I was fine and could walk home. He then insisted that I get in the car, and I was scared that he would do something to me if I didn't, so I got into his passenger seat. Fisher drove me towards my house but sped past it and brought me to his house instead. When I asked him why he brought me here, he said, "I think you're a very special girl, Mia. All I want is to love you."