Finding the serial killer

Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Jake’s POV,

It was the perfect time for the coffee shop to have the right number of customers from the perspective of a watcher. It wasn’t too rushed or too empty, but it was big, bigger than most of the cafes I was used to of and as we get inside trying to be pretty much inconspicuous, I felt more and more out of place. I don’t really know why we have to behave like we are playing spy when we are just here to talk to her like Captain instructed us to. I wanted to ask her, but I also wanted it to be over as fast as possible, so I followed Emily in her shenanigans.

A quick gaze around the room and my memory has the exact image of the entire area. There is total five table out of the eight in the centre occupied with three couples snugging in, probably rubbing each other under the table, one had a man sipping his coffee alone with a side of cream bread and the last to the wall was a group of friends, women. All women in their thirties or at least their procedures made them look like they were, all dressed up and too loud. They are just like those people I meet at my mom’s social gathering. Trying to seem poised and proper, but inside they hate half the people they call their friends. I know mom hated them, he just made herself a part of it so he can get inspiration for her writing by being around wedded-oppressed woman. She hated them to never stand up for them. she hated that love for them was valued by who had a bigger diamond on their body and more stamps on their passports from international boardings.

Robby’s wife Kenna will be one in them. she was in a very distinct position, adjacent to my gaze. She wore a nude-orange tinged dress that can never go amiss in that swarm of designer stocks. Mom would’ve hated her. her husband is cheating on her, r****g girls, murdering them and she is enjoying a casual meet with her friends. I even hate her, it’s hard for me to hate someone.

“Let’s go talk to her.” I said standing up from my table. There are so many things I want to ask which I won't be able to if I stayed here.

“Not now.” I felt a hand pushing me down back to the comfort of the arm chair I feel drowning inside of.

“Why?” I protest.

“Because I'm watching her.”

“What does that have to do with this?”

“Because I need to know what kind of a person she is before we try to pursue her.” she always gives my blunt answers and even more confusing claims. She is weird by all means when she is in pant, shirt and a blazer. And this is the time I feel the most frustrated. Rest of the time in either mesmerized or confused. I can't control myself but think that she might have connections with either an underground gang or she is a mafia herself. She doesn’t act like people I usually meet.

I emptied my head with her thoughts and look back at the targeted woman getting up and walking away, probably to the restroom.

“I'll go,” Emily shot up, “check the waters.” And left not even sparing a second look.

I'm bored already, when I'm bored, instinctively my hand always goes to the phone that’s been resting on the table till now. I have several notifications, some from Jerry, some from Stella and a few from my mom. I opened the message pane from mom. I haven’t talked to her at all for more than a week, that’s the most I go. Whenever I need support, she helps me. whenever I have those nightmares, she tells me it wasn’t a big deal. Even when I'm older, I sometime look back at those memories, those restless nights feel lucky to at least have her.

She wishes me happy birthday and asks me to call her when I'm free in the text. I reply a thanks and go to check what Stella has send me.

Need help. I have a dress fitting today. there won't be any appointment if I miss the one today.

Can you come with me? it won't be long.

I smile at her text, I can't believe we haven’t seen each other for seven years and our relationship is still the same.

Alright. I text her and just when I check Jerry text, he asks for something similar.

J, can you help Stella with her dress fitting? I have a meeting to attend. I don’t want her to go alone. She gets emotional every time she thinks her mom won't be there with her.

Alright. I text him too. I just wish I'll be done with the case by the time the clock strikes eight.

“She seems so naïve.” Emily was back pulling a chair to sit. “I don’t think she has any idea about her husband’s doings.” She says.

“Then we should talk right?”

“Yeah.” That was the end and we both revealed ourselves to her. “Mrs. Crawford,” I said, “I'm detective Wilson and she is my partner detective Davis, can we have a chat with you?”

She seemed surprised and genuinely insulted with the way she looked at her friends. Like she’s almost scared of us, or something about us.

“Yes.” She tried to speak with confidence holding back the spilling of fear all over her expressions. It didn’t work too well for us who can read expressions.