4|Careful There

The investigation on Rivera’s death forced me to endure Paul’s presence. I hated how he acts as though nothing has changed between us. I was tempted to request Chief Perez to hand over this case to another detective, save myself a lot of pain at seeing him on an everyday basis, but my pride won’t let me. This is my case, and he’s the one crossing over my jurisdiction. Plus, he was the one who cheated on me, not the other way around. He should feel uncomfortable and not me.

While waiting for the coroner and crime lab’s report, Paul and I are interviewing the people who saw the body first, all five of them. A group of young campers coming down from the mountains were first insight. They called it in the moment they saw the body and everyone had their alibis checked out.

Corina, a twenty-three-year-old hairstylist, was the last on our list.

In a coffee shop named Coffee Hut, just right across the salon where Corina worked full time for the last three years, Paul and I sat across from her. She held a cup of espresso black with both hands, eyes glancing everywhere but us, flinching with every sound. She kept eyeing the door near the counter with the words EXIT on top of it with a stance ready to bolt out of the shop at the first sign of alarm.

“Miss Parker.” She flinched at the sound of my voice. Frantic green eyes stared back at me.

Corina chewed on her lip, “w-what was the question again?”

I sighed, tired from the sleepless nights and going around town interviewing her friends. This is our last stop. It’s Friday and I’m bound to drive back to Seattle after this interview. “Can you tell us your whereabouts on the night of January 4?”

Blue painted fingernails wrapped around the cup. She lifted it to her lips, eyelids fluttering shut, while she took a sip of her drink. I took notice of her heel’s continuous tapping sound against the walnut-colored vinyl floor. Despite the six degrees Celsius temperature outside, the heater inside the cafe was working perfectly fine. Yet Corina here was sweating like it was sweltering inside the shop. Beads of sweat were visible on her forehead, slipping through her blond hair while she set the cup down on the wood laminated table, palms shaking and slipping a little from the surface.

To say I was annoyed would be an understatement. I’ve repeated this question fifteen times. My patience could stretch beyond the entire Pacific, but this woman is clearly avoiding answering my question. But given the circumstances, I let out a breath, throwing a sideways glance at Paul who was already wearing a frown.

He sensed me looking at him, letting out a breath before excusing himself, saying he needs to have a smoke.

Paul never smokes, never drinks. He is a great believer that his body is a temple. Would you believe someone with that mindset would be able to cheat on me? I shake that thought out of my head. ‘It’s all in the past,’ I reminded myself.

Corina’s eyes followed Paul’s retreating figure out of the cafe. I waited until her eyes darted back to me, needing her full attention.

“Look,” I said, straightening my posture, “this is just standard procedure. Off the record, your friends already gave their statements, so why don’t you do us both a favor and answer all of my questions. You are a witness to this case, not a suspect, but if you continue to stall and waste my time, I might change my mind about you.”

Her lips quivered. Mist formed on the brim of her eyes. She blinked them away, closing her eyes before glancing up at me with determination in those green hues.

“I was with my friends the entire time,” she said, gaze still locked with mine.

At the first syllable that came out of her lips and the moment she looked into my eyes, I knew she would lie. And I wondered why.

“I was skeptical at first, you know, to go on that trip. Who would go camping in January here in Salvatore Hills?” she chuckled a bit. Gone was the nervous Corina. “Anyway, Brad…” she cleared her throat, a pink patch began to spread from her neck up to her cheeks. “He invited me to go with him and his friends.”

I nodded, Brad Winston, six foot four, dark hair, pretty blue eyes with the body of an athlete, a typical ladies’ man at such a young age. I know because he tried to hit on me while we talked to him. Paul nearly strangled the guy with every attempt to ask me out on a date.

“I agreed,” she said, the blush on her cheek deepening. It was obvious that she liked him. Although that’s not the point of this interview, I let it play. At least she’s talking. “I have had a crush on him since I was fifteen.”

I nodded, listening to her narration of how Brad invited her, how they trek up to the mountains, set up bonfires even though it was illegal, and drank booze to their heart’s desire. Honestly, when she was narrating all of this, I kind of missed camping. Although dad and I were always the duo campers in the family, Paul joined a few of our trips.

I made a mental note to schedule one in the summer.

“It was so cold up there, but when Brad texted me he’s waiting outside Siti and I’s tent, I still went out. We… we…”

I hummed in understanding, “you two had wild sex in the mountain.” Her cheeks turned redder than a ripe tomato.

“D… Did Brad?” I nodded my head. “Oh god…” I gave her a moment to gather herself. Her mind is probably working overtime on how to avoid the guy and everyone who knows them.

“Just move forward to the time when you saw the body.” At my suggestion, her shoulders went rigid, the red blotch on her cheeks faded.

“I… I’ve never seen anything like it before,” she said. It was there again, the signs that she’s not telling me the entire truth. She kept tucking her hair behind her ears, lips quivering, eyes frantic, the beads of sweat began to form in her skin. “A dead body… I mean. I know that guy. I’ve seen him before in the salon… brought in different girls every week for treatment but never took one for himself.”

I nodded, jotting down the details she’s saying in my journal. Noting all the signs disturbed physical gestures as well.

“Can you tell me what you saw that morning?”

Her already wide eyes almost popped out from the socket of her skull. She tucked her hair behind her ears, aiming to hide the shock clearly written on her face.

She reached for her cup of espresso, taking a huge gulp. “We… We traced back the trail we took the day before. I remember the path was very slippery and Brad volunteered to hold my hand. When we were almost on the road where we parked our cars, Siti… she was leading the trek… and Brad and I were behind… We heard her scream. Brad and I ran to where everybody was. Siti was crying on Alex’s shoulder. I… I’ve never seen something like that before detective… All that blood…”

“Blood?” my brows furrowed. The actual crime scene was in the HD version in my head. Not to mention, I still have dreams about Rivera’s death.

She nodded her head. “It was all I could think about…” people in shock could see things beyond what they really are. I wrote that down, giving Corina the benefit of the doubt. “I have had a hard time sleeping since that day… I… I don’t know what kind of ‘monster’ would do that.”

The way she uttered the word monster differed from all her stuttering. I’ve heard witnesses call the killer a lot of things. Devils, monsters, demons, beasts… Why does this one sound different? Like she was actually referring to something real rather than just a descriptive word to define a killer?

We need to keep an eye on her and I’m afraid that this is not the last time I’ll be facing this excruciating talk.

Glancing down at my Lola Rose leather wristwatch, I pursed my lips. It’s already five in the afternoon. At this rate, I will have to drive back to Seattle in the morning to meet my parents’ place.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Parker.” I handed her my card to wrap this thing up. “Call me if you remember anything you forgot to tell me today.”

She nodded, taking my blue card with both hands, shoving it inside her purse.

I closed my journal, fingers running over my name engraved on it as I fixed the black strap to lock it. I stood up, Corina followed suit, running her still shaking palms over her jeans before smoothing down her gray top, giving me a sheepish smile.

We both put on our coats. It was freaking cold outside today although it wasn’t raining. Looking back at Corina who was now checking the content of her purse, murmuring to herself. I pressed my tongue on the inside of my cheeks, pitying this woman who had to endure this kind of situation, so I added. “… and if you want to go to counseling, I can also help you with that.”

She halted her movement, looking up at me with a look that I saw for the first time since I met her. A genuine gaze that tells me she needs more than counseling. She knows more than what she told me, and I know she’s finding the courage to speak up.

‘Just tell me,’ I whisper in my head, but knowing people like her, a cop is probably the last person she’d confide in.

“Thank you, Detective Grayson. That’s very kind of you.”

I nodded at her, turning on my heels, noting to drop by the supermarket to restock my wine cabinet. It’s the only thing that’s been helping me to find little peace in my sleep. Even in my drunken state, I keep having a glimpse of images, scenes, and pieces of events that always end up with me in the arms of the silver-eyed man.

I don’t know who he is, why I’m seeing him in my dreams, and it’s bothering me more than it should. The scratch on my wrist has already faded and the bruises on my body as well, but my mind was another issue. I can’t stop thinking about him, about what happened that night. I’ve considered talking to our counselor, but that would lead to fucking lot of questions more than answers.

Deep in my thoughts, I bumped into a wall of muscles on my way out of the cafe. The intoxicating whip of cedarwood made my head spin. The man caught me by my arms, steadying me.

“Careful there.” That voice… I can’t help but catch its resemblance to the man in my dreams.

I looked up, meeting a pair of dark gray eyes.