I jolt up in the bed, a cold sweat on my head, gasping for air. The smooth naked body of Faeth stirs beside me in her sleep. “That one was intense” I say out loud as I look down at her, blissfully unaware. I place my hand softly upon her shoulder, I had no idea that she had gone through all that, but… it’s also not my place to know. I sigh, the universe forced me into another friend’s memories without either of our consent.
I sit up on the side of the bed and look down at my phone, 2 AM. I let out an even deeper sigh. She had only just collapsed an hour and a half ago. I grab the pack of cigarettes and a lighter off the nightstand and head over to the balcony. The cold night air caresses my bare skin, goosebumps forming in its wake. I light up a cigarette and lean on the railing, looking up at the crescent moon high in the sky.
I let the smoke out of my lungs in a long stream. I knew she grew up in foster care but… damn. I bap myself on the head a few times. I need to stop, stop before I go down the rabbit hole of an investigator’s curiosity. She didn’t let me in, she didn’t tell me, it was forced.
I put out my cigarette before I go back inside. I need to get my mind off that dream, off of Faeth’s past. I start to put my clothes back on as I try to move my mind’s focus over to the Sanders case. They checked all the CCTV cameras in the area and also checked the whole area for a body but found none. If I can check where all the cameras are, hoping that they haven’t moved or removed any in the past 5 years, maybe there’s a blind spot. Maybe it’s possible she wasn’t actually murdered. Maybe she just ran away. The parents seemed like good people when I met them but, losing someone like that… can change you.
Fuck, now I’m thinking about Mars again. And with no Benny to come in and distract me this time. I miss you Mars. I can’t tell Faeth or anyone else about my dreams but you… you knew. You knew everything… I smile lightly as I get down on my knees in front of my closet. ‘I can always tell when you’re lying KayKay! That’s MY superpower!’ funny, I always thought it was the ability to comfort me just by being there. I wipe away a tear that’s trying to escape from my face. Maria Vasquez… I certainly changed after losing you, didn’t I?
After a long pause I finally grab what I had originally got down here for. A small black lockbox, I unlock it with a code and open it up. Benny used to get so mad at me for going out alone at night to the shadier parts of the city. Forced me into an ultimatum, no more working alone at night, or let him buy me something to protect myself. As much as I don’t care for guns, I’ve had enough pointed at me in my 29 years for my liking, I need to work when I can’t sleep. So he took me to a gun store and made me pick something out.
He really was trying to push me onto a revolver, I don’t remember the number he kept saying, thirty something. I told him I wasn’t a cowboy but he insisted I was a detective, and it was a classic in those noir films. The shop owner recommended a Glock. I didn’t know what that was but as soon as I saw the damn thing I shook my head. I’m not a cop and I don’t want to be anywhere near a gun that cops use 90% of the time. I settled on a Beretta Cheetah, maybe cause it has a recognizable name, maybe cause it’s unimposing, sleek, and black? I’m not really sure but it’s not like I wanted a gun in the first place, so if I had to get something I guess this would do.
I slip my arms through the underarm holster and close the lockbox back up with the gun inside and place it in my bike bag with the Sanders file. I take one last look at the sleeping beauty in my before I grab my helmet and head out the door.
…
I arrive at the crime scene at 2:43 AM. It’s almost been 5 years to the date, a couple of days off. That’s when they hired me, said that every year, the anniversary is the hardest. Believe me, I know… April 23rd. You won’t catch me anywhere but either in bed or at the bottom of a bottle. They said that they wanted to try to do something on each anniversary, hire a PI, go to the crime scene, beg the cops to reopen the case. I get it, though I think if I was to go snooping around for Mars’s killer again I’d just go full obsessed. I shake my head as I pull it out of the helmet, I need to stop thinking about Mars, or I’ll go down that path again.
I hop off the bike and set my helmet on the seat. Opening the saddle bags I take out the pistol, placing it in my holster, and my camera. I take a few steps towards where I know some of the CCTV cameras are before I stop myself. A figure in dark clothing, in the middle of the night, taking pictures of CCTV cameras… Yeah not suspicious at all.
I resolve to just check out the crime scene, where the blood was found. I can check out the cameras later, in the day, when it’s at least a bit less suspicious… And besides, it was around this time of day Amelia went missing. If nothing else, I can get a perspective of what she may have been able to see that night.
It’s just a small patch of asphalt on the bank of the river. It kind of looks like a building should be there but it’s been kind of turned into a makeshift hangout spot. Concrete barriers, graffitied to hell, serve as seats to look out over the river and into downtown. It’s actually quite the view, and I’d probably sit and hangout if I didn’t know what happened here 5 years ago. I wonder if she hung out here. Maybe had friends or a partner that brought her here. I wonder if she lost someone… someone close… that maybe this place reminded her of them. I make a mental note to ask her parents about it, maybe dig through her laptop, or call some old friends of hers, ask if maybe she’d lost someone, or had recently had a break up or something.
I snap a picture of the barriers, they’re the same as in the cop’s photos of the crime scene 5 years ago, albeit with more graffiti. I snap a pic of where the blood pool was and think. No blood trail, no other drops of blood were found in the area. It’s as if she was killed here and the body vanished. There were 6 different people’s blood found in the pool, a few were unsolved missing cases and the others are just unknown.
I tried to piece the disappearances together, as some kind of pattern or ritual maybe. 3 of them line up in a pattern using the unknowns as fillers. 2016, 2011, and 1996. If we assume that the 2 unknowns disappeared in 2006 and 1991, then it all lines up except for… 1999… Erin Simmons went missing in 1999 and on the other side of the country. I still think this could be a pattern to look into, Erin could have been a runaway, and she could have made her way to this city. The theory still requires the assumption that the 2 unknowns fit the pattern, which there’s no guarantee.
I sigh and step over to the barricades. I sit down and put my head in my hands. Why am I trying so hard for this? Why am I in such a rush? This is a 5 year old case, her parents aren’t expecting me to find anything. Why do I feel like I need to find them something? Am I still trying to make myself atone for not finding Mars’s murderer?
I sigh once more and look up across the river. No matter what my reasons are, no matter what reasons other people, including Amelia had for being here… This is a damn good view. It’s just dark enough that it’s not easy to see the buildings against the backdrop of the sky. The lights dotting up towards the heavens, reds, yellows, whites. I lift up my camera and snap a picture, maybe something for a frame in the office. I set my hand to my side on the barricade and just enjoy the lights, the cool breeze, and the sounds of the city… my city.
“It’s a beautiful view isn’t it?” A soft voice suddenly chimes in beside me. Before I can even react I feel an icy hand on mine as I look into the face of someone familiar.
The face of Amelia Sanders.
