THE FIFTH WITNESS

CLEANING HOUSE

My phone pinged with several notifications from the secure platform that the witnesses at the trial used for communication.

The prosecutor had told us it was for our safety but I have never felt safe using it. Even though it has come in handy in some near experiences that didn't seem like much until now that they couldn't be ignored. Especially with the verdict of the case.

Talks about moving cities came up but that was wishful thinking, none of us were in any position to do anything.

The group went silent and I went to the window of my new apartment. I have never been able to open it fully and I never leave my apartment without double checking to see that I wasn't being followed.

The next morning I turned on the news on my phone and nearly fell over from shock.

“An Elderly Woman Killed in Hit-and-Run.”

I read the lines over and over before I shakily went to check on the platform that I didn't bother to open last night.

Nobody responded to my messages for about two minutes, then James responded.

“It's Tiana, Rory, she was shot when she went to get milk this morning. I saw it happen and only escaped by luck because the shooter was aiming at me as well!”

“Let's all calm down, it might be a random hit and run, it wasn't a shooting. I'm on my way to the hospital and I will give you details of what I find, the media won't lie like that,” Prosecutor Reeves typed but I knew that she knew that she was lying through her teeth.

I quickly checked the number of people on the platform and realized that in the last four months, including today, three out of the five witnesses at the trial had met unexpected ends.

Layla was the first to go, they said she had a heart attack. Then Oscar, his case was dehydration from food poisoning, now it was Tiana, a shoot out that was being reported as a hit and run.

Oh no! No, no, no,no!

How did I miss this?!

Marcus was cleaning house and James and I were next!

My phone rang, scaring me horribly but I managed to catch my phone before it hit the ground a second time.

All I heard was heavy breathing before James spoke up.

"This isn't a coincidence, Rory. What do we do?" James' shaky voice said but I had no answer. While both of us were in this predicament, there was no “we” in fixing it.

"I don't know." I said to him because I genuinely had no response for him.

We attended the funeral where I spent most of the time looking over my shoulders and checking for Marcus and his cronies,but I didn't find any, which didn't help my anxiety one bit.

James drew me aside in the parking lot following the service. Gaunt, with black circles under his eyes and a jumpiness that I understood, appeared older than his thirty-five years.

He said, "I'm leaving town," without preamble. "Tonight. I can spend some time with a cousin in Portland. Tiana’s death wasn't a coincidence and I'm not sticking around to see which one of us is next." His voice cracked a little.

I couldn't give him any reason to stay so I nodded my head and wished him luck.

"Stay safe," I said softly and hugged him goodbye.

James turned around and got into a car I didn't notice was parked ahead of us and left.

It was a few days later that I decided to check up on James, with the number on the card he had slipped me that day.

The number didn't work so I took a chance and called the police. I mean, they would have answers if something happened to him.

"I apologize, ma'am, but we are unable to give out information on ongoing investigations except for family. Are you related to Mr Morrison?,” the officer said and I slowly rose to my feet. What the hell was she talking about?

“I beg your pardon, what investigation are you talking about?” I asked the officer on the phone. There was a pause before I got a response.

"Ma'am, you'll need to speak with Detective Richards," The officer said and then I was transferred to someone who introduced himself as Detective Richards.

“I am so sorry ma'am, Mr James Morrison was found dead in a motel room at the outskirts of town. It falls into our jurisdiction so we are looking into it,” the officer said and a choked sob was heard, it was from me.

“What happened to him?” I asked as I opened my drawer to pull out my passport and the keys to a safety deposit box that Sophie had entrusted me with a long time ago. I just never went to check it out.

“He was shot ma'am, single gunshot to the head. We found a note beside him but the injury doesn't look self-inflicted. Are you his relative? Should we continue to contact you with this number for updates?” Detective Richards said to me and I shook my head no before answering.

“No, I'll come over as soon as I can. This can't be done over the phone,” I said to the detective as I sobbed into my palm

“Alright ma'am, I'm so sorry for your loss,” he said as I hung up. I gave myself exactly two minutes to have a meltdown before I pulled out my already packed duffel bag and headed to the bank where I could make use of the safety deposit key.

I found an alarming amount of cash that I quickly stuffed into several parts of my body in the bathroom, then I took the first cab I saw to the airport.

Just as the can turned the curb, there was a massive explosion behind us that jerked the car forward.

I watched in horror as the bank went up in flames.