Vindictive (Complete)

IV

    “Coffee, extra sugar... please.”
    “Sure.”
    Edward rubs his forehead, this night has been long enough. On nights like this, being a detective doesn’t seem worth it. His coffee is placed on his favorite coaster, a picture of his son stretching his mouth to make a funny face. He takes a deep sip, knowing it will be too hot. His tongue burns, as expected. The sunrise shines through his office window, burning his eyes.
    “Nine millimeter shells. That’s it.” Edward taps his fingers on the table, annoyed.
    Edward Smith is a tall asian man. He has dark black hair and an average looking face with a twelve-day stubble. He became a detective to keep his family line blue, however, sometimes he regrets his decision. 
    “No fingerprints, no DNA, no nothing. He must have worn gloves. He is a shadow.” Edward looks to his partner, and coffee maker.
    “I’ve listened to Isaac’s phone call several times. Awful, really, but nothing helpful other than proving Isaac isn’t the shooter.” Stephanie twirls her blond hair, exhausted.
    “Has anything turned up at his apartment? Any motive? Weapons?” Edward takes another sip, temperature just right.
    “Nothing. Very average home. We are starting the search of the Hunter household now, asking questions to Sarah Hunter and her daughter. Poor thing.” Stephanie drinks some of her water, she hates the taste of coffee.
    Edward taps his desk and looks toward the questioning room, knowing he is waiting. The white blinds on the questioning room window are bent, causing a mild annoyance during his entire career.
    “It’s time.” Edward stands up, bringing his coffee with him.
    Stephanie jumps up and joins him, ready for questioning. They open the door to the questioning room. No fancy one-way glass, just a metal table with a few chairs sitting around. Isaac has his head on the table, making no sound.
    “Hello Isaac, we are here to just ask a few questions.” Stephanie tells him.
    Edward pulls out a metal chair, making a quiet screech across the floor. They both sit down, looking at Isaac’s ash brown hair dig into the table. Edward turns on his tape recorder and looks back at his hair.
    “Isaac.”
    Isaac slowly looks up, eyes are bloodshot from crying all night with black rings surrounding them.
    “Isaac I only have a few questions, but you are allowed to have a lawyer under law, if you wish.” Edward mentions, taking another sip.
    “No,” Isaac shakes his head, “I’m fine. I don’t care.”
    “Right. Let me hear the story one more time, from your perspective.” He moves the tape recorder a little closer to Isaac, before drinking more.
    “I received a phone call around one a.m. It was my best friend, calling me to say he’s… been shot,” Isaac begins to tear up again, his eyes exhausted, “He told me he started selling drugs to afford his daughter's medication for her heart disease. He tells me to drive to the metro to find his body, no one else would go for him.”
    Isaac makes fists with his hands and snot can be seen in his left nostril. He sniffs it back inside.
    “I heard a gunshot and him scream, then the phone lost connection. I puked in the sink.”
    “We saw.” Edward finishes his drink, Stephanie glaring at him.
    “I drove down as fast as I could, then I called the police. I told them what happened and ran inside the metro. His body… oh fuck me.”
    Isaac places his head back on the table, crying.
    “Your house came up clean. We are going to do a full inspection of the Hunter household and try to find leads. We don’t susspect you for murder after reviewing the phone call and tracking your phone’s location at the time.” Edwards stares at Isaac’s hair again.
    The room is silent, except for the sound of Isaac crying.
    “You are free to go. We have no further questions. You aren’t being charged for trespassing and we are leaving you with a warning to wait for the police next time, for all our safety.” Edward turns off the tape recorder and stands up, rubbing his face.
    “Off the record, I’m so very sorry.” Edward sighs and leaves the room.
    Stephanie holds the door open for Isaac, who isn’t moving.
    “Isaac. You’re free to go, sir.” She holds her frown on her face, feeling bad for him.
    Isaac slowly stands up, wiping his nose.
    “Sorry.” He slowly walked to the door, his head aimed at the floor.
    “It’s okay. I’m so very sorry for your loss.” Stephanie closes the door after he leaves, sighing.
    Isaac enters the elevator, Edward watching him leave from his office. The elevator door closes, sealing him inside. His mind is clouded, unsure what to think. His is confused, sad, and furious. Rage has released that Alex had helped him hold back, now flooding his body.
    He thinks about the man who had killed Alex, that monster. He thinks about torturing him very slowly, bringing him the most pain possible, slowly peeling his flesh as he thrashes around. Screaming, begging. Isaac can almost hear it. He wants to murder his family right in front of him, slamming their heads into concrete before him. He wants him to know what it feels like to have the one thing in life you love most, destroyed. He wants him to have to know what’s left behind. He wants him to know what it’s like... to be him.
    The elevator opens, Isaac taking his leave. They parked his car just outside, letting him drive home. Isaac works in a few hours and he doesn't care anymore. He needs justice. He needs something to bring Alex back. The blue car unlocks with a beep, he climbs inside.
    It’s time for him to go home. Isaac drives down the busy city roads, looking at all the happy people. He hates them all. He hates them so much. The drive continues for several minutes, until his apartment can be seen. The police are done scouring his home, and he needs his sleep. He needs a shower. Isaac parks his car and enters the building, the front desk looking at him.
    “Good morning Isaac! You have a bill in your-”
    “Fuck off.”
    Isaac steps in the elevator, looking at the man’s offended face as it slowly closes. Fourth floor. Room three twenty-two. Isaac hangs his coat and looks around, the apartment looks the way it was. He checks his sink, they cleaned it for him. He stops and checks the lamp and under the tables, no bugs can be found listening to him. He doesn't think they have a reason to listen in to him.
    No ears to hear what he has to say. Perfect, he can do what he needs to. Isaac screams on top of his lungs, so loud the entire apartment floor can hear. He throws his glass vase at the wall, shattering it into pieces in the kitchen.
    “Fuck all of you! Fuck every last one of you!” He falls to his knees and continues to weep, exhausted.
    Neglecting the shower and calling his job to tell them what happened, he lies down on his couch. He falls asleep after a few minutes, he didn’t sleep all night.