Chapter 91
1891 Words
Chapter 91
Jake’s POV,
We walked in his cabin with adrenaline still kicking high in our systems, hopes high too, maybe beyond the ceiling, “we’ve got something” he had said. And he… he sounded weird, like he’ really got something. He was in his chair reading one file, he straightened at us, he took us to a box he’s been kept on his table. I guess this is what he wanted us to see, right. I guess this has some ground-breaking finding in that.
“I got it an hour ago.” He tells us, with nothing much to really tell me what he’s really feeling. “It says a name Jade.” And all the expectations I've been welcomed into my conscious escaped The receiver should be jade, but it got delivered here.”
“Jade?”
“Yeah.” He opened the flaps of that brown package and fished his hand inside. “I thought the address must've been wrong, there is no Jake in the precinct, but then I thought maybe there is a typo, it could be Jake. But look what it has.” There was a Tae-kwon-do black belt in the box that I am seeing in his hand.
“I don’t see anything suspicious.” I added.
“Until I read the note with the package.” He also pulls out a page from the box. And slaps it in front of my face.
I read it in my heart—
Roses are red. Violets are blue,
Daddy said I should just add you.
Candy isn’t sweet without you.
Sorry I'm good as you.
Everything’s good if I just add you,
You make everything hot like you.
But I think I should add one more you.
Daddy said that’s enough seven you.
Okay mommy I love you.
Oops that’s one more you.
—Jake
Captain held the page as he read it out loud, literally with no rhythm. Unlike mom, those words were flat and miserable mixing with the air, and I'm definitely sure now that, “the package is for me.” I add. “The name must've has a typo.”
“You're sure?” Emily says and I nod almost instinctively.
“That’s one poem I wrote back when I was five.” I say.
“Are you sure this is the one?”
“My mom included it in one of her books, “The Tragedy of Life” twenty-six years ago. You can go back and check.”
“There is another.” He unwraps another letter that seemed to be the most comfortable staying in his pocket. I have a feeling something bad is about to happen. “How do you like being Jake now?” he reads it and for some weird reason, I get chills all over my body just hearing those words.
I back off thinking who might it be, I really question all the other people who even knew that this is one poem I wrote. It’s actually never mentioned anywhere.
“Do you know any Jade?”
“No.” this is one name I can never forget. “I don’t really know anyone with that name.”
“Another dead end.” Captain sighs. “I thought we can finally have a new lead now. it’s just all dead-ends.” He paces through the room. “At least you have the list prepared.” I reluctantly handed it to him. “Okay, let’s look into this one first.”
I have no personal life at all. All the people in the list are people just from my very monotonous, rat-race lifestyle. Two people are from the gas station I usually go to, six were from the grocery store I don’t know the name of, two are the father-son due at the butcher’s, one my internet guy who always has trouble with his wife, five from the car servicing and carwash shop, three security guards of this apartment building, my delivery guy, my courier guy, a few are my neighbourhood acquaintances and my fast-food joints’ server and rests are my colleagues at the precinct.
We decided to check up on them one at a time. First, we were to go to the supermarket five minutes from my apartment. While at it, I decided to buy a few things I’ve been lacking time to go and buy and that is towels, coffee, energy drinks, protein bars, and I’ll decide if there is some other things I would want.
I'm seriously low at anything and everything that can even in the slightest make me feel any better. Makes me wonder if these things will ever be enough to make me feel any less miserable or I'll just keep digging into the abyss hoping this feeling will go away.
“Let’s go talk to that girl.” she pointed to the one ringing up at the checkout counter I'm pretty sure she can't be older then eighteen and it’s just her part time job, because there is a guy on the counter when I'm here late in the evening.
“Hey!” Emily approached her, “I'm detective Davis and he is my partner detective Wilson.” The girl has a genuine shock smudged all over her face.
“Am I in trouble?” she looks at me, maybe because I'm one face she is familiar with.
“We just want to ask a few questions. Like what is your name, what do you do. Simple questions.” I said fetching out a diary. I need to know everyone of their names.
“Jane Parker.” She says, “I'm a year off to earn some money for college.” She also says that she lives in a shared apartment her cousin. “She is eighteen and wants to be a nurse.” We took her and every other staff’s personal information. They all cooperated with us knowing that it was for the killer on the loose, and of course it means well to them. we also asked them to come to the precinct to submit their DNA samples. We might need that to check them out one by one.
“There’s nothing to fear, we are just checking everyone out of our list one by one.” We added. We did the same thing to all of them one by one eliminating everyone from the list I've made.
One thing that’s still been lingering around my mind all day, how the f**k did that box had that poem and that belt and that anyone out there who knows personal things about my family we’ve never shared.
I don’t get it. I don’t get the point to sending it. I mean why. what good it does.
“You're still thinking about it?” I gripped the steering wheel till me knuckles runs white. But I'm speechless. “I'm pretty sure, it’s just a prank.” She has no reason to be pretty sure. Even since as a child, my family’s been a public figure. Especially in New York. My mom and dad are well known couple who love to do charity works and auctions. So ever since as a child I've known how well they are at keeping things private. It always made me uncomfortable when people know about things that was never told outside. Even if it’s just a poem. I'm more sensitive because it’s the one thing I feel only I own.
“How far is it?” I just add.
“Take a right from the next turn.”
We are doing now what we couldn’t do earlier. Eating at this random restaurant with completely isolation. I hate everything I have to do other than work, and I absolutely hate that I'm forced to do it. if I don’t, she will keep on fishing out reasons after reason until I'm freaking convinced.
“You're coming to my home.” She said before we exit the restaurant.
“I'm going home. I have been sleeping well.”
“I have a few files to sort through, we haven’t been doing our research on the Atlanta city serial murderer, you want the case fast track, don’t you.”
“I don’t have my car with me.”
“You can take me car and pick me up tomorrow morning.”
“I'm not doing it again. It’s childish enough to do it for a day when I hated every second of it. I'm serious, I did it for one day. I'm not doing it again.”
“You hated it so much huh?”
“Yeah.”
“That what was that a few days ago, you didn’t seem to hate that.”
“I changed my mind. I don’t want that.”
“It’s easy for you to change your mind, I can't do the same?”
“Yeah you can't.”
“Because I won't let you change your mind.” I didn’t realise what really happened until she pulls me in a locks my face with her hands and she kiss me. she kissed me? I pull away instantly.
“This is s****l harassment.”
“You didn’t like it.” I'm stunned she had the courage to say that. she is smirking like she knew the answer before I even say it.
“I didn’t like it.” she moved in.
She smalled the space we had. Closer and closer. And I'm locked in her stare. I'm pretty sure I'm hypnotized, or paralyzed or maybe I'm too shocked.
I pressed my hand against her. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to prove a point.”
“And that is—”
“You don’t hate kissing me. you're just playing hard to get.”
“Fine. I don’t hate it. but what is the point?”
“What do you mean?”
“Things like this leads us nowhere. I don’t want to invest myself emotionally in this anymore.”
“Do you mean it?”
“Yes! I mean it.”
“You're saying this because I hurt you.”
“Yeah! And I rarely believe in second chances. People just don’t change, it’s deep down to their bones.”
“How much should I apologize for you to forgive me? tell me, I'll do anything for your forgiveness.”
“I don’t know what can be done. I just feel so empty, I don’t want to do anything, I don’t want to get out of bed, I'm scared, I scared if I get out I'll see all those faces around me, they see me as a killer. I don’t care about those strangers calling me a hero, I don’t care about them. I cared for my family, I cared for you, but if you feel this way, I don’t know what to do but strive to prove I'm innocent.”
She’s crying.
“Don’t cry for me. you’ve done what your instinct told you to do. I don’t blame you, but myself, I keep forgetting I don’t make connections. I always forget until I get hurt time and time again.”
“Trust me one more time.”
“I don’t know if I can. I'll tell you all about me. maybe you will then.”
- Writer
