Who killed her?

*14*

It feels like I wasn't home in a long while. The smell of the flat turned from tuna and salads to beer and mould. If someone entered here, they would think that someone either died or will die and frankly, I wouldn't blame them. I did die here, for a few weeks.
My mind died and my alter ego took over. I hope he didn't screw everything up. 
I looked around, eating up the depressive atmosphere. 
Like the true detective I am, I made sure that every spot in my apartment is noticed and every hint doesn't seem like a coincidence. 

I approached the windows and opened the blinds, so the room can get at least a few more hours of sunlight. It already feels bigger. 
Folded the blanket and turned the air condition. I need to turn this flat back, just like I need to get my life back.

I don't feel like the same man anymore. 

I walked over to the kitchen, finding empty cabinets and fridge. This explains why I look like a skeleton. I can just imagine myself sitting at the table, eating air that Nancy made. If I didn't die out of overdose I would've died of starvation.
 Right at the centre of the table is Nancy's vase which is completely empty and dusty. I have a pattern during my blackouts. 

 How did he even find it, I hid it so well under the sink cabinets.  I am an idiot.

With silent steps, I walked to her room. Untouched, like always. No sign of them touching anything, which means Larry was also here. It stopped smelling like her for many reasons, time being one of them. Her perfumes are organized by name while her lipsticks are by colour. She was an OCD freak. 

''I need to just pick which perfume suits best this dress and we will leave.'' She touched every bottle like it is calling her. ''The car keys are on the kitchen sink. I found them under the couch.''

I should've bought her more perfumes. I thought to myself as I am looking at the massive collection on her shelf. Since when cars hold scent so long?

I shook my head from the pile of thoughts that always come when I am close to her room and continued straight. The hallway seems wider than I remember it and none of the picture frames remained on the walls. Any reason?

And then there is my room, which is ruined.
Larry wasn't exaggerating when he said that they raided my flat. 
But also it is always like this, so it wouldn't surprise me if I came back home without the raid and found my room in the same state. Even my alter ego didn't want to spend much time here. I can tell by the bed cushions who are on the bed and the sheets which are folded perfectly, meaning I didn't sleep here, not even once.

I walked back to the living room, not being in the mood to clean that mess and on the way closing the door of the bathroom, not wanting to deal with mould problems yet.

 I need to get to work asap. I need to find out what I was doing all of this time. 

And with that, I saw the string board leaned on the couch.
Of course, I had that bad boy during this mess.
I picked it up carefully and put it on the wall, where its place is. 

There is a lot of names here. How is it possible there are so many suspects and why so many insults Ken? This girl didn't have it easy...

I froze. 

She reached out her hand and smiled. ''Vivien.''

I smiled at the woman whose fingers were shinning from the rings. ''Are you French?''

''No, are you?'' I giggled at her confused face and sat down out of reflex. 

''No, I am not. But your name in French means alive. I thought maybe you were.'' I kept nodding like an idiot, trying to distract her while I am staring straight at her lips and neck.