The Game of Deception

Chapter 4-2

“Evelyn, it has been a pleasure, as usual. Now, if you"ll excuse us, your daughter and I have a lot to discuss.”

The detective"s ability to shut my mom up, and so nicely, is nothing short of a miracle. I give an impressed huff, then I nod my head in the direction of the kitchen. The quiet, closed mouth expression of shock on my mother"s face is priceless. I wish someone could take a picture.

“This way, Detective. Would you like some coffee?”

“I would love some. And, it"s Phil, please.”

It doesn"t matter how many times he asks me to call him by his first name, I struggle with it. It"s hard for me not to address him with a professional title. I"m pretty sure my sister is crazy. In all the time I"ve spent around him, I"ve never noticed him favoring me. Detective Sharpe seems to treat everyone the same. Either way, it makes no difference to me – he isn"t my type. I have no reason to impress him.

Kam is sitting on the edge of the bar sipping on her coffee. The extra-large pot barely holds enough to fill a mug for myself and for the detective. I don"t dare ask my sister how many cups full she"s had, or even if it"s the same pot I had prepared in the middle of the night.

“Go ahead and have a seat, Detective.” I hope he hasn"t noticed my trembling hands, or the stoned glaze of my eyes.

Kam turns to face him as soon as his rear end hits the bar stool next to her. “Sorry about our mom.” She bursts.

“Trust me, I"ve seen worse.”

“You say that now, but in ten minutes when she barges in here with another opinion, you might change your mind.” She insists.

His chuckle is short and genuine, “that may be.”

I join them, standing on the opposite side of the bar. The morning is unusually chilly. I can feel a small draft coming in through the open window. Even the slightest breeze cuts right through me, freezing its way up my backbone.

Without hesitation I ask, “do you know anything new, or have any idea who is doing this?”

I don"t care for the small talk, and I certainly don"t want to waste any time. My best friend and a neighbor are dead. Who gives a rat"s ass about my mother right now, or about her opinion?

I continue. “Please tell me he left a fingerprint or some hint. It"s bad enough he got away with Beth, we have to stop him before he does it again.”

“I"m sorry, we"re still not sure on any specifics.”

Boring and indirect. I swear, that must be a part of police training. Right alongside shooting their guns, a class to teach talking in circles, taught by some phony politician of the year.

“All the evidence has been taken to the lab to be processed. Whoever is doing this is meticulous. We were unable to find a single fingerprint or drop of DNA at the crime scene with Beth. So far, things look just as unclear with your neighbor.”

“s**t,” Kam mutters, dropping her head slightly to her chest.

“So, what"s next?” I ask.

“Well, we need you to search your things, top to bottom. We need to know if anything else is missing. And I"m going to need a list of men and women that may be upset with you, or even anyone who may have acted out of the ordinary. Think hard, no detail is too small.”

“Why women? You don"t think a girl would be physically strong enough to do this, do you? I mean, I don"t know about Breanna, but Beth was very strong. She worked out every day.”

“Well, since neither victim had been sexually assaulted, we have no reason to believe these killings were rooted by any kind of s****l fantasy. Which suggests either different motives, or alternate s****l preferences.”

“If it was a girl, she would have to be extremely strong. I just don"t see it.” I point out.

“Adrenaline can do a lot for a person"s strength.” He continues.

Kam intrudes. “Kind of like retard strength?”

“Oh my God, Kam!” I"m shocked at her insensitivity.

Detective Sharpe chuckles under his breath, but only one short huff. His lips straighten, and eyes grow serious. Obviously confused, he asks, “excuse me?”

“You know, like how special people are really strong. Adrenaline can do the same thing, right?”

She acts completely relaxed and normal, as if her comment was like a regular question. Detective Sharpe"s gaze holds no humor, and my eyes widen in shock. My sister"s lack of empathy is completely inappropriate. Knowing Kam, she had no intention of coming off as ignorant or careless. She"s just the type of girl to declare whatever random thought comes to mind, no matter the time or surroundings. Along with the quick wit, she holds nothing back. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and is completely confident about whatever stupid thing bursts through her mouth.

“Well, yeah, I guess.” he answers.

“To be completely honest, I can"t think of a single person off the top of my head,” I veer the conversation back on track.

Kam"s crude outlook is thrown instantly back in the mix.

“You mean you can"t even think of one really big woman? A fatty that you might have stolen her guy at a bar? Or some jealous b***h that comes into the theater? I know for a fact you"ve fired some freaks, and I"m sure at least one of them had to have been a giant, right?”

“Kam! Are you freaking kidding me?” I snap.

“No, not at all.” She"s stone faced.

“She"s right, Markie,” Detective Sharpe chimes in again. “I might not put it in those particular words, but your sister has a good point. Think hard. Even random people in passing may hold some information, if nothing else. Anything you can come up with will be helpful.” He hesitates, and blushes slightly before continuing, “It would be a good idea to include any men you may have been involved with in the past.” He clears his throat, and his face flushes into an even deeper shade, “or now.”

He ducks his head, and buries his face in the tightly clutched cup of coffee. Great, now I have to share every single person who"s seen me naked with an entire office full of strangers. Isn"t that going to be attractive?

“What about that Vincent guy you went out with last night?” Kam pushes. “You said he was weird.”

Again, I had forgotten about my date, and again, Kam"s throwing it back out there. The reminder of him leaves an acidic taste in my mouth. She"s right. Instinctively, I reach my hand up and rub my fingertips around my neck, feeling for the chain of my locket. I wear it ninety percent of the time, but I removed it the second I got home last night. Seeing Beth"s matching set draped over my neighbor"s dead body freaked me out, to say the least. I"ll probably never wear it again.

“He did make a comment about my locket.”

Staring at the wall behind them, I think of the kind little twinkle in Vincent"s eye as he complimented me and slid out my chair. What came off at the time as gentlemanly, now seems dark and sinister.

“What?” Kam all but shouts. Her nose crinkles in the middle. “How the hell could you forget that?! What kind of comment?” She demands.

This sparked the detective"s attention as well. He sits straight up on the edge of his stool, eyes wide. If it were possible for hair to stand on end from astonishment, then his surely would be. His handsomely aged features bunch up, and it looks as if he is eating a sour hard candy.

“Well, it was more like a compliment. He just said it was pretty.”

I trip over my own tongue, and a bad taste swipes across the roof of my mouth. How could I forget?

How could I forget?“I… I… I guess it was such a small gesture at the time, I never gave it another thought until now.”

“Who is this man?” Detective Sharpe asks.

“Yes, who, Marketta?! I demand to know!” My mom throws herself into the room, pressing both hands on her chest, just above her bosom.

She holds herself as if having a heart attack, and then she takes the same slow dramatic steps as she did when she first arrived – each one lands in sync with her visibly deep breaths. I hate it when she calls me by my full name. I guess it could be worse, my name could be Kambriella. Who would come up with this s**t, aside from our mother? Why my father allowed her to write such ridiculous names on legal documents, such as our birth certificates, is beyond me.

“Mom, how long have you been listening in?” I ask, wholly irritated.

My head angles downward and my eyes are gazing up past my lowered brows to glare at her. I didn"t really need to ask, I already know the answer. I also know she isn"t going to respond to my question anyway.

“Who is this man, and why were you out with him at all?” She continues to prod, ignoring me entirely. “You know that none of this would be happening if you would"ve just listened to me in the first place. You should have bought a nice house in my neighborhood – the one you grew up in, rather than these slums!”

Her arms round in a giant circular motion, indicating our surroundings. The shoulder pads on her dress lift with the motion, nearly touching her ears. It"s strange how such a small detail can only add to her drama. I want to rip them out of her dress and fling them in her face. Although I would never dare to act so ruthlessly, the thought still crosses my mind.

“This is a nice neighborhood!” Kam and I respond in unison. I pipe down and let my sister continue. “And, it has nothing to do with where we live!” She yells. “Do you not understand anything at all?”

“Ugh.” My mom grunts, and purposely shudders, coming off as queasy. Her shoulders wiggle first, then her hips. She tosses her hair behind her shoulder, and her eyes round a complete circle.

“Let"s get back to the situation at hand,” the detective interrupts the tense start to what is soon to be an all-out family feud. “Please explain to me this… Um… Date.” Again, his cheeks fill in a pinkish hue.

My mother is hard to ignore. Her face is only inches from mine, with tensed eyes. It"s obvious that she"s trying to act like she"s listening intently. She lets out a hot breath, smelling strongly of orange Tic-Tacs, and places a hand back over her heart. I center my attention toward the detective before leaning back against the counter, as far as I can get from her. Despite her efforts, I"m able to blow her off completely.

“He"s a guy that Beth"s parents set me up on a date with. He seemed like a really nice man. But yes, he was a little weird. And yes, he did tell me that my necklace was pretty when I first got there.”