Orson was anonyed with all the meaningless chatter and fake smiles. He was anonyed with himself as he found himself staring at the wall of coats again. He didn't even know what she looked like. But Orson was never impressed by beauty. Beauty was fleeting.
It had been close to two hours. He had to admit to himself she wasn't coming. Did she forget her raincoat? Or did she sense something darker sinster was waiting for her?
A large woman bit into a sandwich and said with her mouth full. " So how do you know the deceased?"
Orson cringed slightly what was with these mortals? No one was crying they might as well have been talking about the weather. The flighty woman stood there unaware. She continued masticating her egg salad sandwich. He supposed he had to answer her.
" Through a friend" He muttered
He turned to go but stopped suddenly as the large woman made a noise. Hum...
" Hum...I didn't think you knew her, you don't look like her other friends. Leigh is always wearing strange things. Today she didn't look bad though. That scarf she was wearing was gorgoueus. " The woman said thoughtlessly
" I didn't notice" Orson muttered
" Beautiful craftmenship. Oh did you like her song? Speaking of beautiful craftmanship" She giggled on.
Orson wondered if anyone would care if he sewed her lips together. Her laughter was worse than the sound of finger nails moving down on a chalk board.
" Do I hear my Aunt Vesta?"
The large woman turned around and powled through the crowd to follow the voice. She wrapped her arms around a taller younger woman. He couldn't see their tears but he could smell the salt.They moved away from each other and discreetly wiped their eyes.But the evidence remained. They wreaked of salt and their eyes were glassy and remined in red. So they weren't without feeling. It made him wonder who had died. All he had was a name and a face. Who was Mya to these people ?
Violet embraced Sam tightly. Sam felt instanly uncomfortable...not because it's was sexual...worse it was totally the opposite. Had she hit on him. He would have known waht to do: push the hussy away. But Violet was no Hussy she just wanted to say thank you. Violet was or still is...Mya's mother? He had tried to tell her he was only doing his job.
" Come here Detective Brodrick, I need to thank you too"
Kevin shrugged his shoulders but instantly grew uncomfortable with the attention. He would not be swayed... So far they were all still witnesses. Especially when the corpse was telling lies...
Leigh struggled to open her car. She was shaking and not just because of the rain. She had embrassed herself. She left the wake a mess. A man actually offered to take her to the hospital. Leigh said all she needed was a nap. He walked her to her car and was still there, watching nervously as she searched for the right key. Finally, success. Leigh turned to give the stranger a meek farwell. The man looked like he wanted to say something, so Leigh slamed the car door closed. She was not going to the hospital.
Leigh wave to him and drove out of site. She didn't go home. She drove around aimlessly. Past the their cafe where they would talk endlessly about books. Leigh thought about going in...but Mya wouldn't be there. There was only one place Mya would be...Her townhouse.
It was a bad idea. Leigh knew caution tape still lingered. It wasn't a home know it was a crime scene. The police were sill going in and out. If she got caught...
But Leigh's car was already making a U-turn in that direction. She should go to the doctors and get her depression meds changed. Normal people didn't do stuff like this...Maybe in the morning.
She tired to say good bye but she knew it was not enough... besides Leigh's rage made surrender impossible.
Orson easily lifted the basement window pane and set it aside. His wiry frame fit easily and slid down into th basement. He replaced the window pane from the inside. He wasn't worried about leaving finger prints. His kind never did.
Orson's curiosity was piqued. Who was this Mya? He knew she was a writer of erotic novels. She started diving into the darker world of paranormal erotica. Some one, something fed her fascination...led her on. His job was to find who or what crossed the line.
The basement was a mess of boxes and more boxes. Mostly filled with books and old clothes. The basement smelled musty and wet. Mya was unorganized, sloppy. Orson climbed over the boxes to get to the stairs. He walked noiselessly up the stairs.
Leigh watched the caution tape slap in the wind. The coast seemed clear. So she stepped out of her car. The caution tape got closer. It was still slapping in the wind as if it wanted to make it's escape. Leigh stepped over the barrier. This was a bad idea.
She looked over at her car and then at the front door. She choose the door. Leigh walked and searched for the right key.
Orson heard the door click open and some... Kick off their shoes. He backed into the shadows ready to attack.
Leigh peered in the livingroom. It looked almost the same. Things were missing...But it didn't smell like death. It almost seemed like nothing had ever occured...