I lay down on the sofa and closed my eyes. I just finished cleaning my girlfriend’s apartment since she went to work. She informed me that she’d be interviewing Mira. I hope it goes well.
Detective Sanchez said that I can go home early since I finished the paperworks extra early but the truth is he dismissed me early so he can go home early too.
We’re not doing any heavy job after Ocean’s case. I’m glad that it’s done since everyone followed the investigation.
There are so many Media people asking us for an interview but Detective Sanchez denied, I’m glad that he did. Unlike other detectives, I don’t want to have interviews on telly.
I went to Kathy’s apartment since there’s not much of a work to do at Jess’ apartment. It’s been a month but it’s still empty. Nothing changed around here except that there’s rotten flowers at the table. It’s all from Jess.
She stopped going here since she got busy working.
I lean closer to her photo displayed on table. “I’m sorry, Kathy.”
I’m sorry that there’s no progress on your Case. I just can’t make it happen. I can’t drop another bomb on Jess and I will never drop this on her. This is not something she can handle, it’s too heavy to know and too high of a price for me.
At least in this way, even if I’m lying, I can protect her.
She lied to, many times. It’s to protect me, yeah?
“If only everything goes well between us, you’ll still be here.” I said. I don’t know why I whispered. I’m the only one here.
Observing the photo, I noticed that there’s something wrong in it. I picked it up to check the back and there’s something between the photo and the frame.
It’s a key and a paper.
There’s an address written in the paper, it’s somewhere in the West.
What is this? What is it for?
I hid the key and the paper inside my pocket. I have no plan to make this as an official evidence because I need to see if whatever is in the address, it’s safe for me.
I went to the living room, there’s still blood on the Carpet. No one came here to clean, since Kathy doesn’t have any family that we know of.
I remember the day she was murdered. It’s a total chaos. Everyone who lives in the building wanted answer quickly so they kept bothering us.Jess too, but only for a few days then she stopped. Made herself busy with work, and trying new hobbies.
My phone rang. It’s Detective Sanchez.
“Hello? Detective.”
“Hey, Archer. Some old man came by the station so they called me in.”
“Why did they called you in? Is it our case?”
“It’s about Kathy. This old rich looking guy came asking for information about her death. Our guys here thinks it suspicious so they decided to call me in. This might be important.”
“What’s his name? Do you need me to come in?”
“It’s not necessary for you to come in because he left. He introduced himself as Mr. Bartley. I looked it up in the system. It’s not his real name.”
I was about to say something when I heard the door move.
“Archer? You still there?”
“Yes sir. Someone’s here.” I walk slowly to check who it is.
“This man got bodyguards. We need to find more about this Bartley man. It can be a new lead.”
“Yes sir. I’ll come in tomorrow early.” Before he says something, I dropped the call.
I’m getting ready to swing my arm incase whoever entered the apartment is a bad person.
“Hello? The door’s open so we just came in.” It’s an old man. His mouth formed an ‘O’ when he saw me.
“Hello, young man. What are you doing in Kathy’s apartment?” He asked me, he’s smiling now.
“Oh, hi sir. I am one of the Detectives in charge of Kathy’s case.” I said. I’m trying to control my face expression since I don’t want them to think that I’m doing anything suspicious in here. Also, his Guards looks so tough so I want to look tougher.
“You’re investigating wearing house clothes?” One of the guys said. The old man lifted his pointing finger to shut him up. Good, I don’t like his tone.
“Rufus, it’s fine.” Old man said. “I’m sorry about him.” He apologizes.
“It’s okay, sir. He’s right.” I smiled awkwardly. I have to explain why I’m wearing house clothes now. “My girlfriend lives in this building, she’s gone so I cleaned her apartment. Felt bored so I came here to see if we missed something.”
“Did you?”
“Unfortunately, no. It’s still the same.”
“That’s sad.” He puts his other hand above the other one, which is positioned at the top of his walking cane. “I haven’t introduce myself.” He reached my hand in shake hands form.
“Mr. Bartley.”
——
Mr.Bartley and his guards are now in the living room. I don’t know how many times I told his guards to sit down but they kept ignoring me which is so annoying. I bet they have real guns so I tried my best to keep my mouth shut.
“Tell me, Detective. How did my Kathy died?” He sips his tea.
I cleared my throat. “I’m afraid I can’t disclose any information to you sir.”
“Come on, young man. Do I seem like a threat to you? I came all the way from west to ask the Investigating team this question.” West? Like in the address?
“You’re not a family, sir.”
“I may not be written as her family but I care for that child.”
“You promise not to tell anyone about this?” The only reason I’m telling him information is because I feel pity towards him.
“You can assure that.”
“Kathy got stabbed 3 times.” I cleared my throat. “That didn’t kill her.”
“So what did?”
“Her throat was cut open, sir. I’m so sorry.” I didn’t see any reaction from him, except he said “That’s horrible.”
“I know, sir.”
“You got any leads?”
“That, I can’t tell you sir.”
“I understand. Thank you for telling me.”
“Actually, may I ask you a question?” He nodded. He goes to sip his tea again.
“A witness said that Kathy was arguing with his boyfriend. Do you know his name? Did you know about this boyfriend?”
“Oh, I knew him. That boy is everything that is wrong in this world. He might have a curse living in his body. He’s obsessed with my Kathy, enough to follow her here.”
“Follow her here?” I ask.
“Yes, young man. Didn’t you just said that there’s a witness who saw Kathy arguing with her boyfriend?” He said, moving his hands in a sarcastic, offending way. This time, it’s not making me annoyed. It’s making me nervous.
I smiled as my way of admitting that he was right. “What’s his name? If only you know, sir?” There’s always a second gap between when I’m questioning him. I don’t know why I am so scared to offend him or make him feel that I’m disrespecting him in any way.
“His name was Tristan Martinez.” Was?
“I’m sorry, sir. Was?”
He puts his tea down. “I took care of him. You must understand my grief, young man. We all deal with death differently.”
He just walks away. Leaving me still processing what he just said.
Who are you, Mr. Bartley?