Blinding Lights | Skephalo

sin city's cold and empty

Darryl

Morning arrived with a knock on the door. Darryl, who was neither asleep nor awake, gently pushed Zak off of him so he could get up and answer it.

A police officer's face was not a very pleasing sight to Darryl's tired eyes, yet that's what he was standing in front of upon opening the door.

"Are you Darryl Noveschosch?" The officer asked, his eyes scanning the room behind Darryl.

"Uh... Yeah? Do you need something?" Darryl replies, his voice cracking dramatically. It was clear that he was nervous to both of them, but Darryl just hoped the officer didn't point it out. He hadn't expected to get caught so quickly.

"Do you mind if I come in?" He asks.

Darryl breaks out into a sweat.

Zak is sleeping on the couch. If the officer comes in, he'll see him. I gotta distract him somehow.

"Oh, now isn't really a good time..."

"It'll only take a minute. Promise."

"Look I've just been really sick recently," Darryl coughs loudly, trying to wake Zak up. "I wouldn't want you to catch it." He hears a shuffling sound come from the couch area after a few more coughs, and almost sighs with relief.

"Is there someone else here?" The officer raises an eyebrow.

"What? No, it's just me and my dog, Lucy. She runs in her sleep sometimes," He thinks back to his childhood pet. "It's super cute," Darry laughs forcefully. "But, like I said, it's probably best for you to keep your distance anyways."

"Whatever suits you. I just wanted to let you know that we found your car."

"My car?"

"Yeah, you reported it stolen last night? Unfortunately, we had to take it in to evidence, because it was used to commit a crime."

"Oh, yeah." Darryl pauses for a moment to think. "Wait, a crime? Did the car thief kill someone?" He asks, trying his hardest to sound like he's not pretending.

"No, nothing like that. It was used as a getaway car in a bank robbery. Our forensics are trying to scrounge up a fingerprint, but everything was wiped clean. I've never seen anything like it before. Other than your prints, there's no trace of anyone else ever being inside."

"I guess they wore gloves."

"Yeah, I guess so. Here," The officer hands Darryl a sticky note with a phone number on it. "This is the lead detective's number. If you have any questions regarding your car or when you'll get it back, talk to him. Feel better."

"Thank you," Darryl says, faking another cough.

Zak pops the top of his head down to his eyes out from the other side of the couch as soon as the door closes. "Is he gone?"

"Yeah," Darryl places a hand on the wall to steady his shaking legs.

"You handled that really well."

"I should just be thanking you for reporting the car as stolen. Otherwise, I would probably be in jail right now. Why did you only wipe your fingerprints away?"

"What?"

"The officer said that my prints were the only ones in the car. Why didn't you clean mine?"

"Well... I think it would be pretty suspicious if they found out it was your car, searched your car, and ended up finding nothing of yours."

"Oh, duh. I'm so stupid," Darryl laughs at himself, trying to calm the hysteria bubbling in his chest.