Vermillion, red.

Vermillion, red.

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing19m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Mar 23, 2021
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Fiction
Mystery
"Fine, let me ask you another question, Ms. Patterson. During your employment at Sintery Enterprises, did Mrs. Moore act strange the night of April 1st of 1978? "Other than her usual weird behavior? She seemed troubled like she had known something, and she didn't know what to do with it." Doris replied. "Could you elaborate more on that, please?" Doris looked nervous, probably because she wasn't in the office. Too busy sucking face with the new interns. "Earlier, about 10 minutes before her breakdown, she got a call. She's been receiving them since her...accident." "She always said a certain location and hung up. She didn't want us to hear. My friend and I did some... investigating. We found the location she would disclose led to an old payphone. It was about ten blocks from the office." Doris continued, staring my way. Nosey rat. "Go on." Kenny paced, eagerly waiting for the incriminating answer. "That night, she received a call again, but she didn't leave this time. My fellow intern and I were uh-chatting when we heard the conversation." Doris replied, looking not at us but the bitter old hag behind us. "She seemed angry. At one point, she screamed out the name Lori." "Do you believe this could've been the victim?" "Objection, your honor, leading question.", James said, tapping his leg, anxiously waiting for his turn. "Sustained." "Let me re-phrase. Who do you think Mrs. Moore was talking to on the phone?" "I believe she was speaking to Lori Drew." Doris was staring intently at Mrs. Drew, looking for approval.
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"Fuck!" I whisper in surprise, pulling my hand back to my mouth and sucking my ring finger. The metallic taste of blood seeps into my mouth and I slowly examine the pad of my red finger. There's a shallow hole where I broke the skin, some blood still lingering there. What the hell? Cautiously this time, I find where I started to pull back on a hanger to see what pricked me. A broken hanger piece? A sharp metal point from the rack? No. Not even close. It's the shirt Danny bought, in the same olive-green color. And wrapped into its hanger is a beautiful, fresh rose, with a piece of paper taped to the top of the prickly stem. Confused, I take the rose from the hanger and pull the note close to my eyes. It's in the same scribbled handwriting like the one I found in her locker. I read it, look at the rose, then read it again and again and again: You two were so close. What happened? All because she killed a man? And to think... It could've been you. Ryan Steel should have a good life. He has a good family, a beautiful girlfriend, great friends, and popularity. But none of that matters, because his best friend Danielle Green might have killed someone. Danny disappeared in September, along with a successful young businessman known as James Wentz. After two months of finding nothing, they show up- but Danny has a gun and Wentz is dead. Unable to resist, Ryan is sucked up into the dark secrets surrounding Danny. Did she kill Wentz? No one seems to know, except for whoever is lurking in the shadows and taunting Ryan. He quickly realizes that there is more to the story than he knows and ends up tied into the mess of the unknown, all while juggling a jealous girlfriend, drugs, gangs... How do you defend someone when they never deny being a criminal?

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