Death Changes Everything

Chapter 1Professor Ian Hughes was trying to stay awake on the drive from LAX to his house. He was returning from a history symposium at Harvard where he had been asked to speak about the impact the film industry had on American morale during the Great Depression. While most people might find a history symposium boring, Ian had a wonderful, but exhausting week. He was looking forward to getting home, seeing his wife, and being able to sleep in his own bed. His eyes were getting heavy and he was just about to drift into sleep, when he was startled by the Uber driver’s voice. “Looks like something major is happening on your street,” the Uber driver said, as he rounded the bend on Mountain Oak Drive. An obvious conclusion considering the number of red and blue flashing lights that lit up the night sky. Three police cars and an ambulance were parked in front of a modest, for the Hollywood Hills, home. “What the hell? That’s my house!” Ian exclaimed as he jumped out of the car and ran to his front door. “I’m sorry, sir, but you can’t go in there!” a tall, muscular police officer stated authoritatively, stepping in front of the open door. “This is my house! What’s going on? Where’s my wife? I’ve got a right to go into my own house!” Ian shouted, trying to push past the police officer. Although Ian was in great physical shape, there was no way he was going to be able to get past the cop blocking the door. “You can’t keep me out of my own house!” An attractive blonde woman in a charcoal-gray pantsuit came from inside the house when she heard Ian shouting. Looking at Ian she asked, “I’m Detective Jessica Johnson with the Los Angeles Police Department. Are you Ian Hughes?” “Yes! Will you please tell me what is going on? Where’s my wife? Has something happened to her?” Ian, who was normally calm and composed, was getting almost frantic wanting answers to his questions. “Come inside Mr. Hughes. We can talk more privately there,” Detective Johnson said calmly, softening her stern look, as she led Ian to the living room, where they sat on the couch. “Where’s Debbie? What happened?” Ian asked in frustration. Detective Johnson ignored Ian’s questions, remaining polite and professional as she asked, “Where were you earlier this evening?” Ian looked at her incredulously. “What? I was on a plane from Boston. What difference does that make? Where’s my wife? Would you please tell me what’s going on?” Ian asked, getting more agitated. “Do you know what your wife was doing today?” Detective Johnson calmly continued her questioning without responding to Ian. “I don’t know. I would guess she was working and then came home. Where is she? What happened?” Ian responded, getting very impatient. “Do you know if she was expecting company?” Jessica asked softly, touching Ian’s shoulder to try and settle him down. “I’m not answering any more of your questions until you tell me what happened. Will you please just tell me what the f**k is going on?!?” Ian shouted in complete exasperation as he began to stand up to go look for his wife. “Mr. Hughes, please sit back down,” Detective Johnson requested, her voice remaining even and soothing, as she kindly pulled him back down. “No! I have to find out what’s going on!” Ian snapped back defiantly. “Mr. Hughes, I’m sorry to inform you…” Detective Johnson started to say, but stopped as a gurney carrying a body in a coroner’s bag wheeled through the room. Ian jumped up to go to the gurney, but Detective Johnson gently took his arm and stopped him. “You don’t want to see her like that.” Ian stared at the gurney in horror. “Was that…that wasn’t….Oh, God! Please tell me that wasn’t Debbie.” Ian’s breathing grew rapid and shallow. Detective Johnson carefully guided Ian back to the couch, helping him sit down before sympathetically saying, “I’m so sorry, but yes, that was your wife.” All the color drained from Ian’s face as he slumped back into the couch and quietly whispered, “How?” “We won’t know for certain until we get the coroner’s report, but it looks like she was stabbed to death.” Ian, who is extremely intelligent, looked confused as his mind grappled to understand what was happening. “Stabbed? Who stabbed her?” “We don’t know. We’re hoping you can give us information that could help us figure that out,” Detective Johnson said. “Is there anyone you can think of who would want to do this? Did your wife have any enemies?” In shock, Ian looked at the detective as if she were speaking a foreign language. “What?” “Mr. Hughes, did your wife have any enemies?” Detective Johnson repeated, softly touching Ian’s hand in an effort to get him to focus on her question. She waited for a response, but Ian just stared into space. A very handsome man, wearing a black suit that matched the color of his perfectly styled hair, came into the room. “Is this her husband?” Detective Diaz asked. Then looking at Ian, he had a flash of recognition. “Ian? Ian Hughes? It’s me, Danny Diaz. You know, from high school.” Ian turned and looked at Detective Diaz, slowly realizing the detective was talking to him. Danny walked over to him, put his hand on Ian’s shoulder, and then repeated, “Ian, it’s me Danny. We went to high school together.” Searching for comprehension, recognition, anything, Ian stared at the detective. Finally, he whispered, “Danny Diaz?’ “Yeah. Do you remember me? We had a lot of classes together at Hollywood High. We used to hang out together at lunch…” Danny waited patiently for a response. “He’s in shock. His mind isn’t able to grasp too much right now,” Detective Johnson said. “I take it you two were friends in high school.” “We were. I mean, we used to hang out a lot.” “How long ago was that? Have the two of you kept in contact since then?” “That was fifteen years ago. I think we last spoke the summer after graduation. I always liked Ian. He was kind of shy at first but when you got to know him, he was a lot of fun to be around. He had a great sense of humor and would always make everyone laugh. He was someone you knew you could depend on to help you out, and not talk s**t about you behind your back. The type of person you want to be your friend,” Danny replied. “Was he popular?” Detective Johnson asked. “Everyone who knew him liked him, but he wasn’t one of the really popular kids.” “Do you think he could have done this?” “One thing this job has taught me is that you never know who will or won’t commit murder. However, if he did this, I’d be blown away. The Ian I knew would never hurt anyone or anything on purpose.” “Danny Diaz,” Ian said softly, startling the two detectives. “You used to come swimming at my house. You used to call me pato because one time I farted, and you said it sounded like a duck quacking. I always liked you. Why didn’t we stay in touch?” Danny smiled and said, “I forgot I used to call you pato. You went off to Harvard and I stayed here and went to Los Angeles City College. I guess living so far away, we just drifted apart. Ian, are you okay?” Still looking like he was lost in a fog, Ian replied, “They said somebody killed Debbie. Is it true?” “I’m sorry, but it’s true,” Danny replied as he sat down next to Ian. Tears started flowing from Ian’s eyes and then he began to sob, “Who would do this? Who would do this?” he repeated over and over. Danny pulled Ian to him and held him as he continued to cry. Detective Johnson watched silently for a few minutes before saying, “We’re not going to get anything out of him tonight. He needs to get some rest. We can question him in the morning. This house is a crime scene, so he can’t stay here. Do you know if he has any friends or relatives he could stay with?” “I’m not really sure. I know he was an only child and his parents were divorced. His father was a general and lived somewhere in New England, Massachusetts, I think. He moved out here with his mom after the divorce. They lived with his grandparents. I don’t know if any of them are still around.” At that moment one of the crime scene investigators walked up to Detective Johnson and said, “Detective, there’s something you need to see.” “Talk with him and help him find some place to stay,” Detective Johnson said to Danny as she followed the technician into the other room. Danny pulled away from Ian, lifting his head so they were looking eye-to-eye, making sure he had Ian’s attention, before asking, “Do you have someone you can stay with for a few days while the forensics team processes your house?” Ian stared into Danny’s warm, brown eyes, as he processed the question. “Why can’t I stay here?” “Because this is an active crime scene. The forensics team has to search for any clues or evidence that could help with our investigation.” “I can stay in one of the other bedrooms. I promise I won’t touch anything in our room,” Ian offered. “Ian, your entire house has to be processed. You have to go somewhere else. What about your mom or your grandparents? Can you stay with them?” Danny asked. “My grandparents died a few years ago. My mom sold the house when she got married and moved to England.” “What about friends? Do you have any friends you could go stay with?” Tears welled up in Ian’s eyes and spilled down his cheeks. “Not really. We usually only did things with Debbie’s friends or family. I wasn’t all that close with any of them. I can go to a hotel, it’s not a problem.” Detective Johnson came back out and said, “Detective Diaz, I need to speak with you in the other room for a moment.” Danny patted Ian’s hand and said, “I’ll be right back.” He then walked into the other room and asked, “What’s up?” “Forensics found this note on the side of the bed. I’m guessing the killer left it on the body, but somehow or other it fell to the side of the bed. It looks like it was written with the victim’s blood, using the victim’s finger.” Danny’s stomach fell as he read the note. Scrawled in brownish-red were the words, “Sorry I missed you professor. This should have been you. I’ll get you next time.” “Oh s**t! Do you believe Ian was the intended victim?” Danny asked worriedly. Detective Johnson sighed and said, “If the note is correct, then yes, he was. Of course, the note could have been put there so we would focus our investigation in a different direction. We can’t take any chances, so we need to provide protection for Mr. Hughes.” “I can stay with him and keep him safe,” Danny volunteered. “That way I can talk with him in a more relaxed setting and get information from him he might not give otherwise.” Detective Johnson looked at Danny and smiled as she asked, “Are you sure you don’t have other motives for wanting to stay with him?” “What’s that supposed to mean?” Danny asked. “We’ve been partners and friends for a few years. I see the guys you go out with and I know your type. Mr. Hughes is definitely your type.” Danny looked slightly offended as he replied, “He may be my type, but he’s obviously straight and in shock over his wife’s murder. Even if he wasn’t, I’m not going to try and date someone who’s involved with a murder investigation. I can’t believe you’d think that of me.” “Your pure and innocent act won’t work with me. I know you well enough to know you don’t always do the smartest things when you let your little head do all the thinking. You do raise an important issue though. Since you know Mr. Hughes, you probably shouldn’t even be involved in the investigation.” “Knew, past tense. I promise I can stay objective. If I find that I can’t treat Ian, Mr. Hughes, like any other person of interest, then I will recuse myself. I really think the fact that he and I were friends years ago, may help him be more open, and give us greater insight into this case. At least let me stay with him for the next day or so. The poor guy.” “You’ve always been professional with work, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. However, you will definitely be taking the back seat on this investigation. Please don’t do anything that would jeopardize this case. I’ll let you tell Mr. Hughes you’ll be staying with him.” When Danny walked back into the living room, he noticed Ian hadn’t moved a muscle. It was as if he was frozen there. Danny couldn’t help but feel compassion for him. In high school it was Ian who was the strong one, who always stood up to the bullies and defended Danny. Now that their roles were reversed, Danny desperately wanted to stand up for Ian, to protect him from the bully who had killed Ian’s wife and was threatening him. As he sat down next to Ian, Danny warmly said, “Ian, I know this has to be a big shock to you. I really don’t think you should be alone, you need to stay with someone who can help you. Would it be okay if I stayed with you for a few days?” Ian turned to face Danny, “That’s very nice of you, but really, I’ll be okay. I’ve had a very hectic week and I just got off a long flight from Boston, so I think I just need some rest.” “Ian, I want to stay with you. I can’t tell you how many times when we were in high school that you were there when I needed a friend. I’d like to think we’re still friends. Let me be there for you now,” Danny said. After a moment, Ian seemed to be more alert, as if he had come out of a fog. He focused on Danny’s eyes as if peering deep into his soul. “There’s more to it than just being a friend, isn’t there?” “What do you mean? What else would it be?” Danny asked. “I don’t know, but I’m good at reading people and I know there’s something you aren’t telling me. What did the detective say to you when she took you into the other room?” Danny shook his head. He should have remembered just how astute Ian was. “She just wanted me to look at some possible evidence. Any time someone passes it’s difficult, and the circumstances surrounding your wife’s passing make it that much more devastating. I just want to be there for you, to help you.” “You’re not a good liar. What else is it? Do you think I killed my wife and you want to observe me? Is that it?” Ian asked politely, but suspiciously. “I know you didn’t kill your wife. You were on a plane, so you couldn’t have done it.” “I’m not an i***t, I know the husband is always the most likely suspect. Do you think I hired someone to kill her?” Ian asked. Although his tone was friendly, it was obvious he had his doubts about Danny’s motives. “I guess that’s a possibility, but I know you. I don’t think you had anything to do with your wife’s death,” Danny said sincerely. He wanted to ease Ian’s mind about his motives, but he wanted to spare him from being afraid someone was trying to kill him. “Then what is it? I have a right to know. If you really want to be a friend, you’ll tell me whatever it is that you aren’t telling me.” Danny thought about it, and realized Ian wouldn’t be pacified until he was given a reason why a police officer would be staying with him. He finally said, “We’re just concerned that your wife might not have been the intended victim. We want to protect you in case somebody is trying to kill you.” “What makes you think somebody would want to kill me? Debbie’s the one with the money. She’s making business deals that upset some people. I’m just a history professor, why would anyone want to kill me?” “It’s just a precaution. I volunteered to do it because we were friends back in the day and I thought you’d be more comfortable with someone you know. Besides, I was being honest when I said I still think of you as a friend and want to be there for you.” Ian continued to study Danny, and feeling like he was telling the truth but still holding something back, he said, “I guess it would be nice to have a friend with me right now. I really am so exhausted I just want to get some sleep. I’ll find out your real reason for staying with me tomorrow. Can we go to a hotel now?” “Sure. Let me tell Detective Johnson we’re leaving. She’ll want to talk with you more in the morning,” Danny said.